Movie: Parasite (2019)

This incredibly well-made movie by Bong Joon-Ho broke the rules by being the first ever non-English (“foreign”) film to win the Academy Award for Best Picture. Parasite also earned Best Director, Best Original Screenplay, and Best International Feature Film. There are so many layers in this carefully crafted film that I am still peeling back after my second time watching. There are already many thoughtful analyses of this film (such as this or this or this), so I will mainly write to highlight some of my favorite parts of this movie. The film is so skillfully suspenseful, so if you care about spoilers, enjoy watching the movie first before reading.

Through so many little moments and details, this film illustrates extreme wealth disparity and how much working people are pitted against each other to fight over the limited resources they have access to. The working-class Kim family seizes on any and every opportunity to take someone else’s job—from the pizza delivery person, to the driver, to the housekeeper. The son Ki-woo even moves in on his best friend’s love interest when given the opportunity. In the final scene, Ki-woo dreams of when he is *at last* rich and can do what he wants. He says he has a plan, and his plan is basically to get money and finally *make it* (aka this is the, “We are all just temporarily embarrassed millionaires,” sentiment that upholds the American Dream myth in the U.S.). We see a side-by-side contrast of how well-fed and cared for the little high-maintenance pet dogs are, compared to whole neighborhoods in Seoul that get flooded with sewer water. It is a striking scene when the Kims have to cross through the whole city in the pouring rain and we see the socioeconomic changes in the city. Again we see how people in need are pitted against each other when neighbors refuse to help each other while their homes are flooded.

There are glimmers of self-awareness of this unfortunate competition between working people. In a moment of hesitation, the Kims remind each other that they have no choice but to only worry about themselves in this dog-eat-dog world. The original housekeeper, Moon-gwang, initially reaches out to the Kim family in a gesture of solidarity as a “fellow needy” working person (she and her husband are among the many poor people who have fell suspect to loan sharks), but when the Kims reject the gesture, Moon-gwang does not hesitate to blackmail them. Chung-sook (the mother of the Kim family who swoops in for Moon-gwang’s job) literally ruthlessly kicks Moon-gwang down the stairs. In another scene, in response to a comment about how nice Mrs. Park is, Chung-sook says, “She is nice because she is rich. If I was this rich, I’d be nice too.”

There are also many moments that are made to make you cringe when someone says something about people who are poor that maybe feels too familiar, perhaps something you have heard someone you know say before. The wealthy Park family is strangely fascinated by the drugs and dirty habits they imagine poor people do. Mr. Park is disgusted by a smell he associates with the subway (aka working people who rely on public transit). We see how these judgments are even deeply ingrained in the Kims, when Ki-woo says things like, “Why would they hire a loser like me? I’m not a college student and just did the military,” even though he is an incredible writer. Ki-taek (the father in the Kim family) has so many useful skills that he acquired from all the various jobs he has worked, yet he still feels a shame about his so-called “subway smell” that he can’t get over. When the Kims first discover Moon-gwang’s husband living in the basement, they exclaim thick with judgment, “How can you live in a place like this?” even though they also live mostly underground in their semi-basement apartment and Mr. Kim literally ends up living down there in the end. Like Jordan Peele’s Us, there is a lot of symbolism around life above or below ground.

Meanwhile, Mr. Park admits that his wife has “no skills as a housewife” and is totally unable to maintain their fancy home or feed the family without paid help. Even the “motion-activated” lights that seem like a fancy feature of the fancy house turn out to be literally and painstakingly manually powered by people who work for them.

As the Kim family weaves themselves into the Parks’ home, they are able to find the balance between being refined enough to keep the Parks comfortable—well-dressed, well-educated and credentialed, courteous—while never “crossing the line” by being too comfortable or considering themselves equal. (The Parks, after all, want to enjoy cheap instant noodles, but expect that expensive sirloin be in it.) Mrs. Park sweetly reminds her employees that they are “getting paid extra today” so can’t complain about the work they are being asked to do. Ki-Jung (“Jessica”) enforces the hierarchy by saying “the help” cannot enter during one of her art therapy sessions.

And despite everything that happens in this film and how the Parks treat the people who work for them, both Ki-taek and Moon-gwang’s husband have a complex sense of loyalty to and even defend the Park family. While living in the basement, they pay their respect to Mr. Park and apologize to him for their behavior.

I also love that this film won the most prestigious award in the United States for films while there are several moments throughout the film making fun of a ridiculous prestige given to anything “American.” Ki-Jung goes by her “American name” Jessica from her time studying in Illinois (the idea of name-dropping a “flyover state” like Illinois to show prestige is amusing). The young son Da-song has a fascination with camping and dressing up in problematic “Indian” costumes (both American traditions still very much alive today), and the parents plan an “American” themed party for his birthday. Mrs. Park makes a comment about something being, “Made in America so it must be reliable,” when those in the United States know that a majority of our manufacturing comes from overseas. While this movie is making a statement about wealth disparity in South Korea, it is undeniable that the wealth disparity of the U.S. is much worse.

Beyond the powerful imagery and social commentary, there are so many moments of clever writing that I did not get to fully appreciate until the second time watching. There is the comment Mr. Park makes about how good of a worker Moon-gwang is, but her flaw is that she seems to “eat for two,” which seems like just a casually misogynist comment to again make us cringe, but is also a foreshadowing. The final murder scene brings it all full circle. Moon-gwang’s husband yells “RESPECT” (what better way to pay respect to the Parks than dropping some English in your final act as a class traitor?) as he tries to save Mr. Park. And then Mr. Park—despite all the commotion—can’t help but plug his nose from the horrid “Subway Smell.”

I think all of the Academy Awards earned are very well-deserved. The movie is suspenseful and unexpected, clever and entertaining, and a mourning of a solidarity that could be but tragically isn’t. I’m sure there will other layers to notice next time I watch it.

Movie: Fantasia (1940)

Fantasia and the “Disney Acid Sequence”

Fantasia image

Fantasia is an interesting film because it was created at a time when film was highly experimental and the sky seemed the limit on what new genres of art would be created by the technology of moving pictures. Fantasia imagines what the symphony of the future might look like: instead of going to the philharmonic, you might go to a movie that functioned as a concert that combined imagery with musical performance. Combining animation and song had long been a staple of early animation and film and still is, but it usually came in the form of short, humorous musical segments rather than a full-length, two-hour “concert.”

Fantasia consists of seven animated segments visualizing Classical, Romantic, and Modernist music, interspersed with stylized live-action sections introducing the conductor, the orchestra, and the various pieces of music. Each of the animated segments has its own style and mood, ranging from purely abstract (Toccata and Fugue) to concrete imagery without much story (Nutcracker Suite) to a coherent story (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) but overall the art style from segment to segment is coherent enough that moving from one piece to the next isn’t too jarring. The result is a work of art and beauty that’s truly an experience to watch.

Fantasia didn’t turn a profit, but it got a second life when the psychedelic aesthetic came into vogue because, frankly, the visuals of the movie can be quite trippy, featuring dancing mushrooms and flowers, hippos and ostriches doing ballet, Dionysian orgies, and brightly-colored circles and lines moving across the screen in ways that, when combined with music, seem oddly… threatening at times? It seems that music plus the combination of drawn art and movement that animation consists in can become a quite trippy experience, especially as the art becomes more abstract/experimental or less photorealistic. This phenomenon is captured fairly well by the concept of the Disney Acid Sequence.

It’s important to note that sequences where the animation becomes detached from reality don’t necessarily indicate that the characters are under the influence of mind-altering drugs, that the animators are under the influence of mind-altering drugs, or that the viewer has to be under the influence of mind-altering drugs in order to appreciate them. In fact, I think the opposite is true in all cases:

First, while it’s true that the art style suddenly getting weird can be an effective way to indicate an altered mental state visually — see: the drunk “Pink Elephant” hallucinations of Dumbo — they are just as often used in non-altered state scenarios such as daydreaming or to indicate someone is relating a tale/fantasy (where an art style change is used to indicate a story-within-a-story). So the narrative purpose of Disney Acid Sequences extend far beyond just the depiction of altered mental states and include things like nested storytelling.

Pink Elephant sequence from Dumbo

The Pink Elephants sequence is an example where a change in art style is used to convey altered mental states and dreaming.

Disney Acid Sequence example #1.

However, Disney Acid Sequences can be used to depict lucid mental states. For example, “You’re Welcome” from Moana uses stylized animation/art to convey a story-within-a-story. “Sing, Sweet Nightingale” departs from realistic art to convey Cinderella’s daydreaming.

Second, in terms of what’s happening on the animators’ side, it’s true that the end results of art style experimentations frequently look very trippy. However, the motivation for making them is much more mundane: it’s just normal artistic/creative experimentation. A Disney Acid Sequence may be a great excuse to do a loving pastiche of a particular art style, for example.

Disney Acid Sequence example 2

In addition to conveying daydreams, the “A Girl Worth Fighting For” segment from Mulan is an excuse to have the animation imitate Chinese ink wash and calligraphy, while the “Almost There” segment of Princess and the Frog pastiches the look of art deco advertising. Image credits: Calligraphy; painting by Shen Zhou. Art deco poster, Rolls-Royce ad

Finally, so-called Disney Acid Sequences are often the most fun and entertaining musical segments of a Disney movie in a way appreciable to everyone, not just the stoned, because of the amount of care, creativity, and art-style homage that may be put into them, and because stylized, non-photorealistic art styles are just… really cool to look at! This is not strictly a Disney Acid Sequence, but some of my favorite credit sequences are the credits for WALL-E and Ratatouille because of the stylized visuals and visual storytelling. (Try to name all the art styles featured in the WALL-E credits!)

Anyway, this is all to say that the whole of Fantasia is a Disney Acid Sequence, and that is what makes the film stupendous to watch (no drugs needed!).

Fantasia 2000

While originally Fantasia was intended to be a movie continually re-released with updated/shuffled segments, in fact it would not get an update until around 60 years later with Fantasia 2000. While this sequel to Fantasia certainly kept the bold, experimental spirit of the original, it falls short in terms of artistic achievement / the quality of final product. As a result, it is a bit of a disappointment to watch.

Core to both the creative energy and the disappointing results is the use of computer-generated (CG) animation. Experimenting with this (at the time) emerging technology and combining it with traditional animation was bold, putting the movie’s animation at the intersection of art and cutting-edge technology. However, CG animation at the time was still pretty crude and had not caught up to the visual standards of hand-drawn animation. Even now, even though CG animation has gotten much more fluid and visually impressive, the ability of CG animation to portray the non-photorealistic and/or abstract styles best exemplified by the “Disney Acid Sequence” is still limited when compared to hand-drawn animation, and often needs to be combined with hand-drawn animation in order to achieve the same level of quality.

In any case, while there was clearly effort and artistic vision put into Fantasia 2000, the technology wasn’t ready (and perhaps still is not ready) to rise to the level of the stunning visuals of the original. The idea was sound, however, and I hope that Disney plans to continue to update Fantasia and its type of musical/visual storytelling as the technology gets yet more mature.

(There are of course many more examples of beautiful stylized animation both inside and outside of Disney. Just a short list of examples I’ve encountered: Destino’s Dali-inspired art, the storybook art of The Tale of Princess Kaguya, a film about Vincent van Gogh done in the style of his paintings, and the look of Into the Spider-verse inspired by comic books and pop art.)

Unfortunately, the dream of Fantasia becoming the future of the symphony didn’t really pan out — but if you go to the symphony, they will sometimes make use of picture screens, so that at least has come true.

Movie: Knock Down the House (2019)

This compelling documentary follows the primary campaigns of four progressive women who are not career politicians, but each, after seeing a need for change in their communities, decide to run for U.S. Congress in 2018. All four women are coming from powerful personal stories that compelled them to put themselves out there and run for office. While they each have their top issues they are fighting for based on their stories, this film does a good job illustrating the intersectionality of these issues as they disproportionately impact marginalized and working communities. The 2018 midterm elections saw record numbers of women and people of color who ran for and won seats—including the first-ever Native American women and Muslim women to serve in Congress. Even though Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (also known as AOC) is the only one of the four featured in the film to succeed in her race, it is still inspiring to watch each of their journeys. And as AOC says herself, “For one of us to make it, a hundred of us have to try.”

This documentary teamed up with the left-wing populist groups Justice Democrats and Brand New Congress, which are both focused on recruiting and supporting progressive outsiders to challenge corporate politicians. Largely born out of the momentum of Bernie Sanders’s people-powered 2016 Presidential campaign, these groups are working to address the political corruption of Washington D.C. and get money out of politics. Both groups back candidates that refuse financial contributions from corporations and billionaires in order to have politicians who will truly serve the interests of their constituents.

“The Squad”: From left-to-right, Rashida Tlaib (Michigan), Ilhan Omar (Minnesota), Ayanna Pressley (Massachusetts), and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (New York)

Justice Democrats was formed after the 2016 elections with the mission to rebuild the Democratic Party by replacing every corporate-backed member of Congress. In addition to AOC, 6 of the 78 other candidates endorsed by Justice Democrats went on to win a seat in Congress in the 2018 election cycle (including the other three young, progressive women of color who now make up “The Squad” with AOC). Justice Democrats supports long-shot challengers of established Democrats in their primaries to say that not all Democrats are equal. Since these newcomer candidates don’t have the name recognition of a career politician nor the corporate funding for their campaigns, it is an uphill battle against the Democratic Party machine. Other major platforms these candidates tend to run on include an end to fossil fuel extraction, abolishing ICE and the school-to-prison pipeline, cancelling student debt, and ensuring universal education and healthcare.

Brand New Congress is focused on recruiting working people and community organizers as a way of lifting the voices of the marginalized. Of the 31 candidates on their slate who trained together for the 2018 cycle, AOC was the only one to win.

The four women featured in this film were endorsed by both Justice Democrats and Brand New Congress. Even though they didn’t all win, each of these women inspired others by having the courage to step up for their communities. This film also does a good job highlighting some of the additional scrutiny women in politics have to constantly navigate—how they choose to dress and present themselves, how to use emotion without being accused of being too emotional or a bitch, and always having to prove their qualifications and credentials.

Amy Vilela decided to run in Nevada’s 4th congressional district after her daughter died from not being able to receive the health care she needed. Now her biggest fight is for Medicare for All. Amy’s story also includes her gratitude for the support of federal programs like WIC and food stamps when she was struggling as a single mother. She says she knows how to work with others, but makes it clear she is not willing to budge on universal healthcare.

Cori Bush got her start as a community organizer through the Black Lives Matter protests in Ferguson, marching in the streets and providing medical assistance as a nurse after the violent response by the police. Cori decided to run in Missouri’s 1st congressional district—a predominantly black district—against Lacy Clay (who is also African-American). Lacy Clay has held the seat since 2001, after essentially inheriting it from his father, who had held the seat since 1969. Because of this, Cori is up against an extremely well-established political name, where voters election after election gravitate toward the familiar name. However, Cori makes the argument that, despite having a black representative for 50 years, police brutality is not being addressed and working families are still struggling with poverty in her district and across the nation. Cori lost her 2018 primary, but will be running again in 2020.

Paula Jean Swearengin organized previously with the Sierra Club and for Bernie’s 2016 campaign. As a daughter of coal miners, she has personally witnessed the devastation of the nature and communities of Appalachia as a result of intensive coal mining. She decided to run for Senator in West Virginia to call out how their representatives have turned their backs on their constituents in favor of the money from the coal industry. She hopes to fight for all of the people in her community who suffer or have died from cancer and black lung disease due to the harsh environmental conditions of working in or living near the coal mines. Her run was against incumbent Joe Manchin, who served as the Governor of West Virginia before moving over to the Senate in 2010. Manchin is a conservative Democrat who has voted against same-sex marriage and in favor of reducing access to abortion, has consistently supported coal and oil development, and received a “A” rating from the NRA. In her concession after the primary, she plainly reminded Manchin, “People are dying.” Paula Jean is running for Senate again in 2020, this time against a Republican incumbent.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, after running a truly inspiring campaign, won her primary against 20-year-incumbent Joe Crowley in the 14th congressional district of New York, which includes the Bronx and Queens. Crowley, like Lacy Clay, was essentially handed the seat through an arrangement with his predecessor. He hadn’t had a challenger since 2004 in a primary (which therefore means no real challenger given the solidly Democrat-leaning district). Serving as the House Democratic Caucus Chair in 2018, Crowley was the fourth-ranking House Democrat and set up to potentially be the next Speaker of the House. Given all of this, AOC’s 14-point win over him in the primary was a particularly huge upset victory. When people questioned AOC why they should vote for a newcomer instead of the incumbent who was rising up the ranks, she smartly poses the question, “And what is he using that power for?”

AOC attributes her politics to her Puerto Rican upbringing and her time spent at Standing Rock with the Dakota Access Pipeline protesters. She proudly references her time working as a waitress and bartender, saying it gave her the grit to work long days and an understanding of working people that most politicians seem to have lost touch with. Knowing that she couldn’t compete in regards to campaign financing (Crowley’s campaign was operating on a budget of over 20 times as much as AOC’s campaign), AOC ran a truly grassroots campaign that focused on going door-to-door to talk to voters and convince them that something other than the status quo is worth fighting for. AOC is an incredibly eloquent and passionate speaker. Throughout her campaign, she always clearly contrasted herself from Crowley and had a beautifully made ad that captured her story and what she stood for.

As the youngest woman to ever serve in the U.S. Congress, she brings fresh perspective as well as centers the concerns of the next generation in her bold calls for climate action, the defunding of ICE, campaign finance reform, and Medicare for All. AOC is particularly impressive and effective on social media and has used her platform to drastically change how we talk about what is possible. In the film, there is a scene where she expresses her fear of being eaten by the machine of D.C. While some who canvassed for her from the beginning might be disappointed by some concessions that she has had to make, overall, I think AOC has done an incredible job of bringing her lived experience as well as those of her constituents to the table. AOC and her proposed Green New Deal for climate action have unfortunately been tremendously demonized by the right and moderate Democrats as some sort of socialist nightmare destroying the soul of our country. AOC is up for re-election next year for her seat in Congress, and I sincerely hope that she is able to keep doing good work and fighting for her constituents. I also hope Cori Bush and Paula Jean Swearengin are able to join her in 2020.

AOC recently endorsed Bernie Sanders in the Democratic Primary out of the many candidates running for President in 2020. In her endorsement, she says that Bernie’s campaign helped her believe that she actually deserved better working conditions and that people like her could even run for office. AOC and Bernie both identify as Democratic Socialists. Democratic Socialism is about centering the universality of rights to housing and health care, building a mass movement that empowers people to work together for a better world, and demanding that Democrats have the guts to stand up to corporations that have been putting profits over people for too long.

When the four campaigns of this film were starting, they were all long-shots and it must have been a bit of a gamble for the director to decide which four races she was going to follow since it is hard to predict which ones would gain momentum. The director could not have asked for a better demonstration of the power of working people than with AOC’s upset victory against Crowley—who is such a perfect manifestation of the establishment, corporate Democrat machine. It is really great that this documentary was able to be there at the beginning of the journey and capture some of the momentum as it was starting to build.

This film aptly concluded with Sharon Jones’s soulful rendition of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.” This song is often used to patriotically celebrate the beauty of America, but this version includes some of the original stanzas that are often left out of white-washed versions of his song which question who is allowed to access this beautiful America. Woody Guthrie was a strongly anti-fascist folksinger, and the Woody Guthrie Center in Tulsa, OK carries on his legacy of working for social justice.

Woody Guthrie with his iconic guitar

As I was walking
They tried to stop me
They put up a sign that said
Private Property.
Well, on the back side, it read nothing.
So it must be that side was made for you and me.

One bright sunny morning
In the shadow of the steeple
Down by the welfare office
I saw my people.
As they stood hungry
I stood wondering,
If this land was made for you and me?

Person: Rigoberta Menchú (1959-)

Rigoberta Menchú is a revolutionary Mayan activist from Guatemala who grew up as the Guatemalan Civil War (1960-1996) was escalating across the country. In 1982, a Venezuelan anthropologist interviewed the then-23-year-old Rigoberta and compiled her words into the book I, Rigoberta Menchú. Rigoberta speaks with a matter-of-factness about the many horrible and violent events she witnessed, saying her story is the story of all poor and indigenous Guatemalans. With this book, an international spotlight was put on the violent state of affairs in Guatemala. Rigoberta was later awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1992 for her activism.

Rigoberta attributes her revolutionary roots and the resiliency of indigenous communities to several factors.

One, the extreme suffering and poverty experienced by most indigenous communities. Indigenous people were often terribly discriminated against and exploited by lighter-skinned Guatemalans of European descent. In her testimony, Rigoberta shares many moments where she felt she and those around her were treated worse than animals, being described as “dirty Indians” who were poor because of their laziness and ignorance.

Young Rigoberta

Rigoberta explains how people living through such hard times do not get to have a childhood—always working, not having the chance to go to school, and never eating enough. By the age of 8, she was working in the fields alongside her mother, earning money to help support her family. Before that, she was helping with childcare, fetching water, and caring for their animals. Rigoberta said she was scared to grow up after watching crying mothers bury their sick and starving children. Rigoberta rightly acknowledges that revolutionaries are not born out of something good, but rather out of wretchedness and hardship.

Two, there is huge cultural importance of community and the land. She recalls her elders telling her, “Land belongs to everyone, not one person,” and that, “No one should accumulate things the rest of the community does not have.” In her culture, at the age of ten, there is a ceremony of adulthood where one makes a promise to their elders to contribute to their community. She also speaks of how her people are rooted in corn and the land. Because of this, when their shared land was threatened, communities were prepared to fight to defend their land.

Three, Rigoberta’s father, Vicente Menchú, was a big influence on her. Vicente was a leader in their community, and he worked with unions and the CUC (Comite de Unidad Campesina, or the Peasant Unity Committee) to unite peasants through their shared oppression by the wealthy. Rigoberta, as her father’s favorite, accompanied him on many of his visits to the city. She recalls her father often lamenting the unjust removal of the democratically-elected Árbenz from power back in 1954.

Because of his organizing activity with these groups and eventually the guerillas in the mountains, Vicente was targeted and arrested by the government. Illiteracy in Spanish (due to it not being their native language as well as not having the opportunity to study in school) meant indigenous people were particularly at the mercy of the system. Rigoberta aptly notes that, “Prison is a punishment for the poor,” when she recalls how her family was forced to pay money to lawyers, translators, and bureaucrats for a year and a half before her father was set free. Her father was later kidnapped and tortured by landowners and again arrested in 1977 for being a communist and enemy of state.

In 1980, Vicente joined others from the CUC in the occupation of the Spanish Embassy in an attempt to raise awareness internationally of the state of affairs in Guatemala. Police were sent in and set the embassy on fire, resulting in the death of Vicente and all 36 other activists and diplomats present.

Violence plagued her family. Rigoberta’s mother was also kidnapped and raped before being killed in 1980. The military captured Rigoberta’s little brother and other guerillas, brutally and publicly torturing them for being communists and “terrorists” from Cuba or Nicaragua. The military told all the surrounding villages that they had to watch or else be considered accomplices of the subversive actions of the guerillas. Furthermore, the justification was that, “Indians are ignorant,” so they are susceptible to the beguiling words of communism. Many soldiers likely did not know much about communism either, just simply that communists were the enemy and were hiding in the mountains.

Rigoberta’s little sister also joined the guerillas when she was 8. Rigoberta said she went many years without seeing her until they were reunited in Mexico, both among the tens of thousands of Mayans from Guatemala who were forced to flee to Mexico during the civil war.

Rigoberta began her organizing in the fields of sugar cane, coffee, and cotton. Most peasants spent part of each year working on farms owned by rich landowners. It was very exhausting work; peasants were paid based on how much they harvested, but were penalized and received deducted pay for everything from damaging a plant to any food or drinks consumed. Workers had to live in austere and inhumane conditions, were often credited for less weight harvested when being paid, and sometimes were even kicked out without pay. Rigoberta recalls once forsaking payment to clean up the body of a woman who was violently killed with a machete by the son of the landowner.

Map of the various languages spoken within Guatemala

Despite all of the peasants working on these farms being from indigenous communities, there were always barriers because families from different areas spoke different languages and had cultural differences. Therefore, despite their shared pain under difficult work conditions, the workers were still isolated and divided. With 22 languages spoken among various indigenous groups, Rigoberta actually chose to harness Spanish, the language of their shared oppressors, to unify and organize indigenous peasants. Rigoberta had a bit of privilege to have the opportunity to learn some Spanish through her time at a Catholic boarding school and during the time she spent working as a maid for a rich family in the city. There was a fear among indigenous communities that having their children learn Spanish at the “white man’s schools” would change them and cause them to abandon their people. However, Rigoberta understood the power of language as a critical tool and learned to speak and read Spanish in order to navigate the system of the oppressors and communicate with many different people. Rigoberta was able to build solidarity among different indigenous communities because, despite their differences, she saw how they were all connected to the land and shared the same oppression.

At their prime in 1980, the CUC organized a strike among farmworkers that garnered the win of more than doubling the minimum wage. This strike lasted for 15 days and included over 70 thousand workers across sugarcane and cotton farms.

Beyond the farm, Rigoberta also talks of organizing indigenous communities on their land. When Árbenz’s land reform was reversed, the government ordered to have land taken away from indigenous communities and given to rich landowners; government soldiers began to invade villages to kick people off of their land. Some people were given the option of either leaving their land or staying to work as an indentured servant. Predatory lawyers and government officials would offer to help peasants keep their land, charging them as they encouraged them to keep cultivating the land; meanwhile, the peasants had already unknowingly signed their rights to their land away on a document that they could not read. (This abuse of the illiterate was seen during elections as well, when all the workers on a farm were forced by the landowner to check a certain box on a paper, unknowingly casting a vote for President on a ballot that they couldn’t read. This was one way the dictatorships dealt with Arévalo’s expansion to suffrage.)

Rigoberta’s community was initially allowed to keep their land, but their shared land was divided by the government into small separate plots, which were not enough to live on, and they were told one could be arrested if they even cut down a tree not on their own land. This was an intentional effort to weaken the community and destroy collective structures. Her village refused these changes and began to organize to be able to fight back, developing traps and security against the landowners and soldiers that would come to terrorize their village and take their food. With the strong sense of community and connection to the land, the whole village was ready to all die together.

When Rigoberta felt assured that her village had organized sufficient defenses, she went to the communities of other women she had met while working on the farms to teach them these same strategies to protect their land.

Rigoberta talks a lot of “bad ladinos.” Ladino is the word for people of mixed European and indigenous descent, but is understood as those who have turned away from their indigenous roots, using whatever power they have gained to abuse their own people. Many of the farms that peasants had to work on were owned by ladinos; Rigoberta’s image of the ladino landowner is, “very fat, well dressed and even had a watch.” She says the government is made of ladinos and for ladinos. Some ladinos acted as hired ears for the military to provide information of the activity of communities and guerillas in the mountains to the government.

As seen throughout history and across the world, deep and deliberately sown divisions along racial lines have weakened efforts by the poor and working class to fight back against the rich. Even poor ladinos would say, “I’m poor, but at least I’m not Indian.” As Rigoberta began talking to indigenous and ladino peasants alike, she understood the shared struggle of being poor and exploitation by the rich. Activists and groups such as the CUC had to intentionally work to bring both poor Mayans and ladinos into the movement.

Throughout her testimony, Rigoberta discusses some of the traditions of her people, though remains wary of revealing too much in fear of the destruction or appropriation of the customs and culture of her people. Given the long and violent history of colonialism, there is a very real fear of the loss of culture; indigenous communities must find the balance between the conservative desire to preserve traditions and the need to adapt to changing times. The extreme and violent times of the civil war meant having to break from cultural traditions, as the community no longer had time for ceremonies.

Rigoberta talks of gendered traditions and how men and women were typically kept separate. She says women cooked, managed money, cleaned clothes, quilted, encouraged men, supported children, and have a unique connection to the earth as mothers. As with their ceremonies, gender divisions were eroded during the extreme times of the war, as everyone had to unite and be prepared to fight back in any way. Women and children protested in solidarity with the men, fully aware that the army was vicious enough to kill them all. Rigoberta recalls her mother saying to her, “I don’t want to make you stop feeling a woman but your participation in the struggle must be equal to that of your brothers.”

Rigoberta discusses how she debated the idea of getting married and having children. As a revolutionary, she was fighting for a better future for the next generation, but she knew the nature of the revolutionary work meant she could die at any time, leaving behind children or a widower. She also had the fear that a concern for personal happiness would selfishly pull her energy away from the needs of her greater community.

Rigoberta mostly praises her traditions, but does mention how she faced some machismo and sexism from other revolutionaries (including other women) who believed women could not be a fundamental part of the revolution. Rigoberta insisted that women fight alongside men because men need to help deal with the additional realities of rape and violence that women faced. She also believed strongly that any change without women would not be a victory.

San Andrés Xecul Catholic Church in Guatemala

Throughout Latin America, Catholicism had a strong presence and was incorporated into the traditions of most villages. Rigoberta recalls praying together in Latin or Spanish, even though they did not understand the words. She felt that Christianity had not replaced their beliefs, but rather was another form of expression. Rigoberta attended some Catholic school and was a catechist. In her testimony, she references Judith as a woman who fought for her people, David as the shepherd boy who wished to live off the land, and Christ as a humble man who was persecuted. She relates the way that Christ lives on through his apostles whenever they tell stories of him to how her elders live on in their children.

Rigoberta was very religious, asserting that as a Christian, she refused to accept the injustices and violence committed against her humble people. However, she also acutely points out the hypocrisy of a supposedly Christian government carrying out the massacre of people. She says there are two kinds of Catholicism: one for the rich and one of the poor. She also says she fears that Catholicism and the promise of the land for peasants in heaven taught her people a passiveness and acceptance of violence and injustice that made them vulnerable to exploitation.

Rigoberta rebelled as an indigenous Mayan, a woman, a peasant, and a Christian. All of these parts of her shaped her revolutionary politics and desire to build intersectional solidarity. In 1981, Rigoberta was exiled and convinced to seek refuge in Mexico. She states how defeated she felt when she was forced her to abandon her country while the fight was still continuing.

After Rigoberta was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, there was controversy due to some historical inaccuracies of her internationally-renowned story. One professor released a book that picked apart several details, primarily the omission of her access to education at a Catholic boarding school when she was young and the fact that she had not personally witnessed her brother’s torture and death that she described in detail. He also raised concerns about people using Rigoberta’s story to glorify leftist resistance and downplaying some of the more violent actions of the guerilla forces such as the use of bombs. There was some discussion about rescinding her Nobel Peace Prize for the inaccuracies, but it appears that the overall consensus today is that her testimony—told as shared experience in a style common among indigenous communities—is the communal story of many indigenous people of Guatemala who lived through the Civil War. (Rigoberta states as much when she says her story is the story of all poor indigenous Guatemalans.) Many agree that this focus on specific inaccuracies does far-reaching damage to her credibility, perpetuates the long history of silencing indigenous voices, and problematically equates the violence of the guerilla forces with that of the military regime. Though certainly flawed and at times violent, the guerilla resistance did not commit the multitude of human rights violations that the U.S.-backed government and paramilitary in Guatemala did throughout the Civil War.

Rigoberta is still alive and now is 60 years old. She got married in 1995 and has one son. She continues to fight for women and indigenous rights as a UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador. She co-founded the Nobel Women’s Initiative, which strives for “a democratic world free of physical, economic, cultural, political, religious, sexual, and environmental violence” as it affects women and all of humanity, and is a part of the PeaceJam Foundation with other Nobel Peace Laureates such as the Dalai Lama XIV, which wishes to inspire young people to work towards peace. Rigoberta has also gone on to write her own books, advocates for affordable medications and health care for Guatemalans, and is working to raise awareness of climate change.

Movie: La Jaula de Oro – Golden Dream (2013)

This Mexican film is a very powerful and sad movie, full of both beautiful images and heartbreaking realities. It is a story of four kids who venture on the long and dangerous journey from Guatemala to the U.S.—the land of the free and of opportunity—in hopes of a better life. Even though this movie is fiction, a similar story is sadly true for countless people who risk their lives trying to escape their dangerous country—be it Guatemala, Venezuela, Ukraine, Burma, Syria… This is another entry that I started a while ago that got harder for me to finish as the content only got more relevant to the situation in our country.

The movie starts with one of the kids, Sara, cutting her hair (to pass as a boy), packing her few possessions and money, and walking through the poverty-stricken streets with her other two friends. As they set off, it is clear that they are not leaving much behind (they don’t appear to even have any family who would notice their absence). The kids seem to have a romantic feeling that, as they leap into the unknown with nothing to lose, things could only get better for them. Throughout their journey, there are small sweet moments of hope. People alongside the train tracks throw fruit to the weary travelers on the train and wish them good luck; they encounter a kind farmer and a priest who feed the children and let them stay in their homes; or when they first arrive in Mexico (early enough when the children are still optimistic and it feels almost like a fun adventure as tourists), the kids treat themselves to some snacks and take silly photos together. But then they lose everything they have—several times—on their journey. It’s horrible that people take advantage of and steal from vulnerable people who are already have so close to nothing.

This movie also depicts the discrimination against the indigenous population that is still present in Mexico and Guatemala. On their journey, the friends meet Chauk, a native Mayan boy who speaks his native language instead of Spanish, so there is a language barrier. Initially, Juan is very rude to Chauk, calling him a “primitive Indian” and telling him he can’t travel with them (even though he is a boy of a similar age and all alone on the long journey to the U.S!), but Sara is nicer to Chauk and finds ways to communicate despite the language barrier. Juan’s upsetting behavior shows how culturally deep prejudices towards indigenous groups can run in people from more urban settings and alludes to the long history of violence and oppression toward indigenous people. Eventually, Chauk “proves himself” to Juan by having useful skills such as knowing how to kill a chicken for food or using natural remedies to help Juan when he is injured. This movie gently reminds us of the diversity of the “Hispanics” hoping to cross into our country.

This is definitely not a Hollywood movie, and I imagine it may not sit well with many U.S. audiences. There are no happy endings for anyone. (If you care, the rest of the paragraph is a spoiler). Their friend Samuel gives up and turns back at the Guatemala-Mexico border after they lose all of their possessions. Sara gets taken away by ruthless men when they realize she is a girl instead of a boy. In a Hollywood movie, there probably would have been an incredible and serendipitous reunion with Samuel down the road and a dramatic rescue mission to save Sara. But in reality, all of the characters are helpless and have no resources. When Sara is taken away, they have no way of knowing where she was taken or what happens to her. Barely hanging onto life themselves, there is nothing they can do except try to continue onward towards the U.S. border. Chauk is killed at the border by Border Patrol and that is the end of his story. In Hollywood, this movie might have been some touching coming-of-age story. It is true that the kids have to learn a lot living on the road, experiencing new things and learning some dark realities. But there is no rosy achievement of adulthood or caring mentor for these youths. Characters are gone and the movie just moves on.

The cinematography of this film is attractive. There is not much dialogue in the film and many scenes are filmed with a “rough documentary” style, with a shaky camera that is often very close to the characters. Many scenes show the vast landscapes of Mexico on the train, crossing bridges and through deserts. Imagery of snow is seen throughout the movie. At first, there is wonder and still some optimism in their eyes. In the last scene, though, the snow feels very lonely.

The last scene is very powerful. Juan, after everything he has been through, has made it to the U.S. We see him working in a meat factory in an oversized uniform (he is probably not even old enough to be allowed to work in such an environment), covered in blood, shoveling up pieces of meat and fat. Other immigrants work the line, hacking away at chunks of cow, working through mountains of meat, packaging the meat, and injecting it with preservatives. (Side note: This is the ugly reality of the meat industry that supports our diet filled with meat in the U.S.). These are the kind of jobs “immigrants are taking away from Americans”—jobs that no American wants. These are the inglorious opportunities that await someone who may have risked their life to get here. This is the exploitation of a vulnerable population that has to work for low wages, since undocumented individuals constantly have to live in fear of being deported and replaced by someone else. This is the reality of the American Dream for many.

The title directly translates as “the golden cage.” This is apt to describe their home country of Guatemala, beautiful but with limited opportunities and people work tirelessly to escape. “The golden cage” also describes the U.S. The U.S. is supposed to be a golden land of opportunity, but in reality, an undocumented immigrant such as Juan has limited and grim options. Many people have left their home and family behind in hopes of safety and work here in the U.S. In the Mexican song with the same title La Jaula de Oro, there is a line that translates to: “I have my wife and children whom I brought when they were young. They’ve already forgotten my beloved Mexico, which I will never forget and to which I can never return. What good is money if I am like a prisoner in this great nation?”

To understand why so many people are trying to flee Central America and seek asylum in the United States, we need to look at the long history of violence and dictatorships, and the role the U.S. played in this.

We will start in El Salvador. The Salvadoran Civil War between the military-led government and a coalition of left-wing groups (FMLN) started in 1979 and continued until 1992. For much of the 20th century, El Salvador saw growing socioeconomic inequality and electoral fraud, resulting in increased unrest and activity of populist groups. Fearing a communist takeover, the U.S. administration, starting with President Carter and continuing with Reagan and George H.W. Bush, contributed around 4 billion dollars of aid that helped maintain the Salvadoran military dictatorship. The U.S. support was influential in tipping the Salvadoran Presidential elections in 1984 and 1988 to maintain the military rule. By the end of the Civil War, over 70,000 civilians died and over a million more were displaced from their homes. The government carried out targeted assassinations of human rights advocates, leftist activists, and religious figures providing humanitarian relief. There were also indiscriminate massacres like the one in El Mozote, where nearly 1000 civilians including women and children were tortured and killed; the U.S. covered up the existence and repressed media coverage of this event. Finally, with the Cold War drawing to a close and after over a decade of back-and-forth violence, peace negotiations began and the Chapultepec Peace Accords were signed in 1992.

During this violence and instability, many Salvadorans, displaced by the violence in their country, came to the U.S. Most of them, however, were not granted asylum due to a disproportionately low approval rate for Central Americans. Many of these “illegal immigrants” ended up in Los Angeles. There we have the birth of MS-13. MS-13 began as a brotherhood among young Salvadorans during a time when they were strongly discriminated against. Unfortunately, this morphed into something much more violent, escalated by other gang presence in LA.

In the 1990s, many gang members were arrested and deported back to El Salvador, which was recovering from a (U.S.-funded) civil war. El Salvador had a broken police force, an unstable economy and high unemployment, and a dangerous amount of leftover firearms. In an attempt to reduce gang violence, the Salvadoran government granted amnesty or lighter sentences to convicted members in exchange for surrendered firearms, but this resulted in the opportunity for the gang to organize, recruit, and expand. Consequently, a gang presence and gang-related violence has spread throughout Guatemala and Honduras, susceptible due to their own political and socioeconomic instability.

From 1960-1996, Guatemala was dealing with its own, longer civil war. By the turn of the 20th century, Guatemala was a quintessential banana republic: under authoritarian rule that served U.S. corporate interests, namely the United Fruit Company. In addition to major tax exemptions for corporations, the government passed legislation that took land away from the native population in Guatemala and essentially trapped them in indentured servitude to the new landowners. The United Fruit Company particularly benefited from these exploitative labor laws and the new land gifted to them. By the 1930s, under the particularly repressive regime of Jorge Ubico—who self-identified as a fascist, admired leaders like Hitler, and was backed by the U.S. government—social unrest was mounting and labor unions and farmers (primarily indigenous Mayan) were actively protesting. After a popular uprising, Guatemala reached a moment of relative stability and had two consecutive fairly and democratically elected Presidents: Arévalo and Árbenz.

Arévalo implemented minimum wage laws, greatly expanded voting rights, and increased funding for education. Árbenz continued this legacy and went a step further by implementing land reform. At this time, 70% of the land was owned by 2% of the population in Guatemala; Árbenz’s reform took uncultivated land plots from these large landowners/corporations and distributed them to over 500,000 poor and landless peasants (primarily indigenous) to be able to become productive farmers. The Red Scare in full force, the U.S. viewed this land reform as communism; President Truman started the motions while Eisenhower was the one to fully authorize the CIA to spread anti-Árbenz propaganda and organize a coup to remove Árbenz in 1954. Not coincidentally, members of Eisenhower’s administration had major investments in the United Fruit Company, which was very unhappy with some favorable legislations being reversed.

For four decades, the U.S. government continued to support a series of military dictatorships through millions of dollars of military aid and using the CIA to train paramilitary death-squads in Guatemala. The Guatemalan government targeted and tortured any suspected enemies of the state, censored the press, and reversed many of the democratic reforms of Arévalo and Árbenz—once again taking land away from small farmers and eliminating democratic elections. One of the dictators even stated, “If it is necessary to turn the country into a cemetery in order to pacify it, I will not hesitate to do so.” Around 1980, violent rebellion from armed leftist guerilla groups peaked; in response, the government cracked down more and authorized a widespread genocide of hundreds of rural Mayan communities for suspected sympathy to the cause. By the end of the Guatemalan Civil War, nearly 200,000 people died and a million more were displaced, many of which were indigenous people.

Homicide rates in Central America

Finally in 1996, the U.N. negotiated the peace accords, intervening due to the atrocities especially committed against the indigenous Mayan population. Some of the guerilla fighters received land in exchange for disarming. The country has been rebuilding since, but there is still lots of crime, corruption, and poverty. All of this has made the country susceptible to the expansion of the gangs such as MS-13 since the 1990s.

The U.S. also established a military presence in Honduras in the 1980s to provide extra support for the military dictatorship in El Salvador and suppress rising leftist groups in Honduras. While spared a full-on civil war like its neighbors, Honduras today still struggles with economic disparity, crime, and sexual violence. As recently as 2009, Honduras had a military coup, which has reduced political stability and reversed progress made on the issues of poverty and unemployment.

Today, the U.S. continues to remain very involved with affairs in Central and South America. In particular, Venezuela is currently an extremely unstable authoritarian state that was built on its large oil reserves; it is clear things cannot continue as they are for the people of Venezuela. The U.S. recently appointed Elliot Abrams—who advocated to aid the military dictatorships in both Guatemala and El Salvador and denied many of the acts of violence committed by the governments during their respective civil wars—as the Special Representative for Venezuela. I fear how the U.S. might choose to intervene and use the disarray of the so-called socialist state of Venezuela as an example. All eyes are on how the world will intervene with Venezuela.

A print produced by a revolutionary art group in Mexico. It graphically depicts how people die on the journey to the United States. It also criticizes how we dehumanize people to simply which foreign country they are coming from.

I spent a month at the U.S.-Mexico border, where every day hundreds of families (mainly Guatemalan, Salvadoran, or Honduran) crossed and legally submitted themselves to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in hopes of being granted asylum from the (U.S.-supported) instability and violence of their home countries. Many were young parents traveling with their children. Despite everything these families had gone through, they often lost their few possessions, either to the disingenuous people they had paid to help them reach the border or during ICE custody. Many of the families from Guatemala were indigenous Mayan, speaking one of the many native Mayan languages in addition to Spanish.

This is a note that was left by one of the families I met at the border. Parents just want safety and opportunity for their children.

The continued demonization of a whole region of people and cruel policies such as separating families at the border has done little to reduce border crossings, nor activity of gangs such as MS-13. In La Jaula de Oro, there are heartbreaking scenes where immigrants are hunted and shot down by snipers. The movie also depicts more realistically what these supposed “caravans of criminals” really are: a group of weary travelers, young and old, on a train or often just walking by foot, with little more than the clothes on their backs, hoping for a place to call home. As the debate in the U.S. continues about border security and keeping out the “bad hombres” invading our country, perhaps we will successfully reduce immigration by killing the idea of the American Dream and the image of the U.S. being the Land of Opportunity for all people.

Movie: Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

This movie is basically a generic Hollywood romantic comedy that uses several common tropes: an overly-protective mother who threatens the relationship during a dramatic meeting-of-the-family, a catty bachelorette party and bro-y bachelor party, the setting of a friend’s wedding as an opportunity for the main couple to realize how much they love each other, and even the ostentatious professing of one’s love as their lover is about to fly off in a plane. The thing that differentiates this movie from any other generic romcom in the United States is simply that is has been Asian-ified.

First, this movie is filmed throughout Malaysia and Singapore. Singapore is seen today as a prosperous, technologically and financially innovative hub. Singapore has also been rated by The Economist as the most expensive city to live in for the last five years. There are a couple of scenes that are a nice celebration of the luxurious city of Singapore, featuring the bustling street food district, mansions with beautiful décor, and glamorous dresses worn at the parties.

Second, it seems like all known and up-and-coming Asian actors are featured in this film. The main character Rachel is in ABC’s series Fresh Off the Boat; the protective mother Eleanor is best known from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; the cousin Astrid starred in BBC’s show Humans while the cousin Bernard stars in Silicon Valley; cousin Eddie is comedian Ronnie Chieng from the Daily Show; Rachel’s friend Peik Lin appeared in the recent Ocean’s 8 movie; and there are cameos by actors like Harry Shum Jr, known from Glee, and Ken Jeong, known from Community and Hangover.

After some negotiations, this film was distributed by Warner Bros and the director was allowed free rein on casting. (One prospective producer was pushing for a white actress for Rachel, but the author of the book the movie is based on insisted on a different producer.) The director, the cast, and the author were all thrilled to see that this film had an all-Asian cast and a big theatrical release. This movie made good box office money ($238 million worldwide) and received lots of positive reception and press for its take on the standard romcom. The cast includes Asian actors from around the world, simultaneously displaying a diversity of Asian actors and uniting them through a shared experience in the historically white-washed industry of Hollywood. (There was some controversy about casting choices such as Sonoya Mizuna—of Japanese and Argentinian decent—as a character who is supposed to have grown up in Singapore, but overall people have celebrated the diversity displayed on the big screen.)

Third, this movie heartily leans into some stereotypes. Rachel is the epitome of an immigrant success story in America, where the parents (in this case a single mother) worked themselves to the bone to provide their child with opportunities; Rachel then goes on to get a stable, intellectual job (a professor) in a well-respected field (economics) at a well-respected school (NYU) among the Asian-American community. I’m sure many Asian-Americans can relate to the sacrifices made by their parents for the opportunities given to them, as well as the guidelines presented to them as acceptable professions to pursue. (Humorously, most of the actors in this movie confessed how they had to go against their parents’ wishes for them when they decided to pursue their career as an actor or comedian).

But then there is another level of success and prestige presented. Nick comes from one of the richest families in Singapore, and his friend’s wedding is basically “the event of the year” in Singapore. Nick’s cousins are all multi-millionaire successes (eg. one is a banker, another is a fashion icon, another is big in the movie industry, and all seem to own at least some property). In comparison to this extravagance, Rachel’s success appears humble and middle-class, but the concern for prestige and constant comparison to peers is the same. Nick’s mother also defines herself by the sacrifice she made for the sake of her family, though obviously the expected fortune of the children is on a different level than for families like Rachel’s.

Rachel grapples with the cultural identity struggle of “not being Asian enough,” having grown up in the United States and having never been back to any part of Asia. She fears being seen as a “twinkie” (sometimes people say “banana,” but basically when you look Asian but act white), and has to prove herself while making dumplings, speaking the language, or other tests of her “Chinese-ness.” Since Rachel grew up in the U.S., Nick’s mother thinks of her as different, saying that Americans only think of their own happiness instead of being able to sacrifice for their whole family. There is certainly some truth in this difference in mentality in how much value is placed on personal happiness and the pursuit of the American Dream. This is sometimes a point of tension between generations. This is also sometimes why immigrants choose to live in America.

With the Asian cast and setting, many Asian-Americans found this movie to be one of the first to really represent them on the big screen (given that the character Rachel is American, this story probably resonates most with Asian-Americans). This movie normalizes things like making dumplings as a family, playing mahjong, or the experience of being raised by your grandma because your parents had to work in a different country. The scene playing mahjong even requires an understanding of the rhythm of the game, as it functions as a face-off between Rachel and Eleanor and the viewer needs to appreciate the significance of Rachel forsaking the 8 to let Eleanor win instead of winning herself.

Other than the uniquely Asian aspect of the movie, the movie does not offer too much with its storyline (as it goes with many romcoms). The whole “test” of the relationship could basically be resolved by better communication. The fact that Rachel knew so little about Nick’s family and upbringing means that Nick and Rachel probably don’t know each other well enough to be committing to spend the rest of their lives together, especially since they both think family is very important. I find it hard to be convinced that a relationship can be fixed by dramatic demonstrations of your love rather than improved, honest communication, so the idea of an ostentatious proposal as a fix after a big fight seems concerning to me.

I also had a hard time relating and empathizing with most of the characters due to the extreme amount of wealth. In general, this level of wealth is a level of wealth I can’t and don’t wish to comprehend. Even Astrid, who supposedly is the one with the biggest heart, seems out of touch with normal people and simply gives a lot of money to charities. She is obsessed with materials things, obsessively buying nice shoes and jewelry for herself. When her marriage is breaking down, she does not seem to understand why her lifestyle might be incompatible with her husband, who is from a more humble background instead of a family of money. He is clearly suffering from constantly feeling like a failure for not making enough money and damaging the prestige of her family. The only way she seems to know how to deal with his pain is by buying him more things or hiding the things she bought for herself. While she should not be responsible for his feeling of self-worth and happiness, she is quick to blame him for not being enough of a man rather than acknowledging his pain. Their breakup is presented as a “strong independent woman” moment (she says it is “not her job to make him feel like a man”), but that is quickly cancelled out when the ending credits show her exchanging glances with a new man as the conclusion of her story arc.

As a side note, there is also the weird part when Peik Lin’s little brother creepily takes photos of Rachel. It is spun as comedy and endearingly awkward, but I believe it is quite creepy and should not be encouraged with laughter, on or behind the screen…

Overall, I am happy that this movie was made, as it represents our society’s constant push for and increased value placed on diverse representation in different industries. The storyline is nothing special, but I appreciated the little touches that speak especially to Asian-Americans.

Movie: The Wind Rises (2013)

This animated film written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki is a story of a Japanese aircraft designer Jiro Horikoshi (1903-1982). The story also draws upon elements of the life of Japanese novelist Tatsuo Hori (1904-1953) and his autobiographical novel of the same name, The Wind Rises. The movie is Miyazaki’s tribute to Horikoshi and Hori who lived in a difficult time in Japanese history and presumably had a strong impact on Miyazaki. Although the movie is not a biography of either individual, it captures the essence of their lives. Also, the film is Miyazaki’s answer to a question of his fans as well as perhaps of his own regarding why he is attracted to war machines such as fighter planes, tanks, and firearms even though he is unquestionably a pacifist and abhors war. He succeeded in convincingly answering the question with this very moving film. Personally, this film stands out as the best among the movies created by Miyazaki even though its animation might not be as impressive as some of his previous works.

Early aviation as a quintessential part of the Belle Epoque and its ending

The Belle Epoque (the Beautiful Era) refers to the period of 40-50 years before World War I (WWI) when Europe and other advanced nations enjoyed a relatively peaceful period and an accelerating industrial revolution with an explosive progress of technology such as expansion of railroad network, development of electric power grids, telephone (1876), phonograph (1877), electric light (1880), Eifel Tower and World Fair in Paris (1889), radio (1897), gigantic steel ocean liners, skyscrapers, an airplane (1905), and mass production of automobiles (Ford Model T, 1908). These developments continuously impacted people’s way of living not only for the rich but also for the entire society. Of course, there existed serious social issues such as a huge income disparity and a cruel treatment of workers by employers. However, during the Belle Epoque, there was a prevailing feeling of optimism, empowerment of individuals and enrichment of their life; in other words, there was a feeling that things would continue to become better year after year.

Horikoshi grew up during the final decade of the Belle Epoque, witnessing astonishing development in aviation technology. That was a time when humans started flying like a bird for the first time in their entire history. With this backdrop, it is not surprising Horikoshi was fascinated by a machine that flies and wanted to pursue creating it. It is worth noting that Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1900- 1944), the author of an all-time bestselling book, The Little Prince was a contemporary of Horikoshi. Saint-Exupery was also captivated by the development of aviation and was one of the pioneer aviators. In his great essays such as Terre des Hommes (meaning “Earth of Humans,” or English title Wind, Sand and Stars), he vividly describes his awe-inspiring experience, frightening dangers, and the spiritual and philosophical enlightenment brought to him by flying an airplane. Flying like a bird took him to the places no humans had ever been, and he saw things no humans had ever seen. Flying was an experience that changed how he viewed the world.

Although WWI further accelerated the advancement of technology of the Belle Epoque, ironically the advancement of technology during WWI brought an end to the Belle Epoque. With the advances in weaponry, an unprecedented number of soldiers, 6 million, were killed in the war. A battle ground was no longer a place for heroes to shine. It turned to a killing field of horror. The term “shell shock” was born during the war, although it took many years before the condition currently known as post-traumatic stress disorder to be recognized as a serious mental condition that requires medical treatment. Instead, soldiers with shell shock were often regarded as cowards to be punished. During WWI, airplanes also developed into a powerful and deadly new weapon. Since then, the arms race has been the leading force of innovation in aircraft design. Horikoshi, as a talented and dedicated engineer, led a team designing fighter planes in his early career. This was a pursuit of creating the most advanced aircraft of the time that employed the newest available technologies. This was an endeavor almost like artists pursuing to create a masterpiece with a revolutionary approach. However, his effort turned to a tragedy once a war had broken out.

Miyazaki himself was drawn to the beauty and danger of early aviation. Porco Rosso (1992) by Miyazaki was a comical and entertaining animated movie, but elements that were fully developed later in The Wind Rises were already present in this earlier work: heroism and excitement of early aviators and aircraft designers, the beauty and danger of flying in the sky in an airplane, and the tragic nature of airplanes as killing machines in war. Like Miyazaki, I also had a fascination toward airplanes, especially fighter planes, when I was a child. Warplanes, with their pursuit of maximum functionality, radiated a beauty in their form, whereas commercial planes with their focus on economy did not possess an awe the warplanes had. This attraction of warplanes is like looking at a beautiful art, and is not diminished by the knowledge that it is a killing machine.

Story of love and death

In this movie, the story of a heroic pursuit of aircraft design of Horikoshi was merged with the story of love and death of Tatsuo Hori. Tuberculosis was a leading cause of premature death in Japan before World War II (WWII). Hori himself contracted tuberculosis, and his fiancée died young from tuberculosis, as in the movie. The shadow of death constantly reminded Hori of the fleeting nature of his life and love. Blending these two stories in one was surprisingly successful, enhancing each other and adding a depth to the story. The film became more than either a story of a nerdy workaholic or the tragedy of dying young. It was not an easy time to live; many things that profoundly affected their lives were beyond their control, but everyone in the movie did what each of them could do without making excuses. They loved each other, helped each other, and pursued their passion. Even imminent death did not prevent the heroine from living fully.

The Post Belle Epoque, the time we all live in

During and after WWI, technology kept advancing at a brazen speed. However, the optimism during the Belle Epoque toward the advancement of science and technology was forever lost. The unprecedented casualties and cruelty of WWI made people start wondering if we became too good at killing each other, although it took the even greater death tolls in WWII and the invention of atomic bomb for people to start seriously searching for a way to avoid all-out wars between nations. Since WWII, advancements in technology continued: tuberculosis is no more a leading cause of premature death due to the discovery of antibiotics; jumbo jetliners greatly reduced time for long-distance travels; the computer and Internet revolution forever changed the way we work and live; sophistication of weaponry using the GPS technology was supposed to reduce war casualty by allowing precision bombing.

The advanced weapons may have defeated oppressive dictatorships in the 21st century, but advanced weapons were unable to instill democracy and improve the life of people, and victims of civil wars have been piling up. Advanced technology cannot solve everything, but it has strong effects upon us for better or for worse. We should not forget a lesson learned from the tens of millions of war victims and the horror of the Cold War resulting from the technological advancement of weaponry. Another consequence of the progress of technology is a greatly increased impact of human activities on the environment. Throughout the entire human history preceding the Belle Epoque, Mother Nature was big enough and forgiving even though we little humans messed with Her. But this is no longer the case with our advanced technology and increased population. Although what we are doing to the environment won’t change it tomorrow or a few years later, it is our responsibility not to cause a great harm to the lives of the next generation.

A heroic effort of Horikoshi to advance technology did not contribute to the betterment of the society. This is the time we all live in. In the Post Belle Epoque, our future is anything but certain. Advancement of technology will continue, but there is no guarantee that it will make our life better. Because we cannot erase what we already know, we need to be wise to decide what to do with the powerful technology we have. The movie doesn’t provide a solution. Neither do we have one. The Wind Rises is not a movie just for aircraft enthusiasts or people who are interested in Japanese history. It presents a universal problem the technological advancement has created, and everyone is facing now.

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Movie: Brother Bear (2003)

Brother Bear is an animated Disney movie released in 2003. It is part of Disney’s post-Renaissance phase from about 1997 to 2008, a period of films marked by experimentation with the Disney Renaissance formula, most noticeably a move away from European fairy tales and the “Broadway musical” format. During this era, Disney sought out a broader base of source material and inspiration, drawing from novels, non-European fairy tales, Japanese animation, and genres such as sci-fi and action/adventure, and diversifying their casts of characters. Brother Bear is very much in this experimental style. Deciding to set their story in prehistoric Stone-Age Alaska/Canada/some northern part of North America, and drawing upon the folklore of what would be their distant descendants (Inuits), there is not a single main character who is racialized as white aside from two comic relief moose. Most notably, it is one of the very few Disney movies to have neither a villain nor any kind of love interest or romantic subplot (Inside Out is another). That’s not to say that the movie is boring by any means — the story is one of the most dramatic, featuring major character death and near-fratricide. The emotional core of the movie is platonic love, including the motivations of the movie’s main antagonist.

It also helps that the main character, Kenai, is highly unsympathetic (he starts out as an immature daredevil with fairly toxic notions of masculinity) and most of the movie is focused on his personal growth. He commits a crime that so offends Nature (the “Great Spirits”) that he ends up being cursed with the body of a bear. His one saving grace, however, and a major motif of this movie, is that he would do anything for his brothers.

In the advertising of this film, the filmmakers had multiple choices about how to pitch this story, and I think they settled on a “fun, family-friendly romp about understanding what’s really important in life” playing up Kenai’s bear form, Koda (the precocious bear cub who adopts Kenai and goes on a Character Growth Road Trip with him), and the comic relief moose as the main characters. That’s arguably a reasonable way to interpret the core of this film, but ultimately I think it’s plainly incorrect. The emotional core of this movie (to me) is three brothers whose love for each other transcends life, death, distance, and form. To leave Denahi out of publicity materials — as was repeatedly done with this movie — even though he is narrator, antagonist, and has one of the most moving emotional arcs in the film, is to misunderstand or misrepresent what this film is.

What Brother Bear says it’s about: talking animals. What Brother Bear is actually about: Human characters never depicted in publicity materials; gratuitous shots of Alaskan wilderness

Motifs

This movie is littered with recurring motifs that create a cohesive arc from start to finish. The first is the question of man vs. monster. This theme is one that was earlier explored in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, where Quasimodo and Frollo are foils that represent ostensible monstrosity but inner humanity (Quasimodo) or its opposite, ostensible humanity and inner monstrosity (Frollo). The same goes for Beast and Gaston in Beauty and the Beast.

Who is the monster and who is the man?

Here, however, the motif is overloaded in multiple ways. In addition to contrasting with “monster”, the “man” part of the dichotomy also contrasts with “boy” and portrays this story as a straightforward coming-of-age story for Kenai. The “monster” part of the dichotomy contrasts with “man” in two ways: the bear as a monster in the frightening world where a run-in with Nature can leave you dead (man vs. monster as a man vs. nature conflict), and the inner monster that describes the ways in which humans fail to embody humanity. Kenai shifts through man, bear, and monster identities throughout the movie, although it’s only at the end that he has the maturity to truly see the identities for what they are.

This thematic motif is given visual form with the repeated image of the human handprint and the bear pawprint overlaid on top. The human handprint is a symbol in Kenai’s culture of having attained manhood (as opposed to boyhood); the awe of Stone Age cave paintings including the handprint and the depiction of a man vs. bear hunt (a beautiful moment in the movie) is itself a testament to the achievements of man (as opposed to nature). Throughout the movie, however, Kenai is confronted with the image of his own pawprint that he leaves behind that shuts him out of both kinds of manhood (adulthood and personhood). Also, I should note that the image of linked hands is a symbol of both humanity but also fraternity (familial love) — this echoes what was done with hands pressed together in Tarzan.

The way hands and the man vs. monster contrast are used throughout the film

That brings us to another motif: sibling love. In particular, there are many brother relationships in this film, where, on the surface, the brothers are obnoxious and irritating to each other, but also at the end of the day willing to go to the ends of the earth for each other. This dynamic is present throughout the opening scene in very subtle, unremarked-upon ways, where Kenai gets on his brothers’ nerves (particularly middle brother Denahi), but is also constantly being rescued by them, even at great risk to themselves. This dynamic of combined irritation and devotion recurs throughout the film.

Finally, there is the motif of “seeing through another’s eyes.” This phrase appears in the lyrics of a song, and is also visually represented via a gimmick in the format of the film itself, where the film changes its aspect ratio and color palette about one-third of the way through, after Kenai wakes up as a bear. Literally, the world looks different to him (and to the viewer) after he has been transformed. It is also significant that Kenai’s transformation not only turns him into a bear (and gives him a chance to see his own actions through the eyes of other creatures) but also forces him into the role of an older brother, a role that requires maturity from him and also helps him understand his older brother better.

Music

Brother Bear‘s soundtrack is an attempt to partially escape the musical format of 90s Disney movies. It has original songs with lyrics, but they are for the most part sung by various musicians who serve as a narrator, rather than by the characters within the film. The composer and lyricist here is Phil Collins, whose lyrics are very different from the Broadway musical style of the Disney Renaissance lyricists like Howard Ashman, Tim Rice, or Steven Schwartz. If you’re looking for clever wordplay like “As a specimen, yes I’m intimidating” or rhyming “Adonis” with “croissant is”… this movie doesn’t have that. It instead has lyrics that sound like the immediate thoughts of the characters whose mind they’re meant to give voice to, very often monosyllabically and with meter, but often no rhyme (example: “This has to be the most beautiful, the most peaceful, place I’ve ever been to. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before.”).

Phil Collins’s songwriting and lyrics are extremely polarizing. At one end, Phil Collins is considered basically a talentless songwriter with a grating voice and musical style and painfully basic lyrics. At the other, his voice is considered unique and his songs catchy or even powerful. I’m more at the second end — I think his songs work for this movie, with the instrumental pieces building up dramatic moments, and his lyrics delivering raw emotional punch in the form of someone directly expressing their feelings. And even someone who hates the sound of Phil Collins’s voice will be spared some pain — half of the songs are not sung by him, which gives the movie more vocal variety than Phil Collins’s previous collaboration with Disney, Tarzan.

Caveats

As much as I love Brother Bear, it is a film that I have difficulty recommending without disclaimers. The first disclaimer (mentioned earlier) is the comic relief moose. This movie objectively would have been better without them. They add nothing to the movie aside from padding some scenes. There was a weak rationale for their continued existence in the movie (apparently, the makers debated back and forth for a really long time whether to keep them in) in that they are brothers and fit the whole “brothers” dynamic that keeps recurring throughout the film, and come in at a key moment in the film to remind Koda of what it means to be brothers. It’s… very weak, though, and I think the movie would be more economical and much stronger without them.

The second disclaimer is that this movie leans pretty heavily into a New Age aesthetic. The focus on Native American spirituality, the heavy-handed moralizing about how important it is to See Through Other People’s Eyes, including the fact that animals have the same moral worth as human beings (just don’t think about all the fish that the bears murder…) can be very grating.

Still, overall, as long as you’re capable of mentally erasing the moose from this film through sheer willpower, I think Brother Bear is a forgotten movie that’s worth a second look. It’s a movie from a period of time when Disney was actually doing some interesting experimentation, and overall the movie provides some great moments that are rare in Disney movies before or since.

Movie: King in the Wilderness (2018)

movieThis entry is about a recent documentary that focuses on Martin Luther King Jr’s final years. There was a distinct shift in the mid 60s as King expanded his efforts against poverty and violence. This pulled King in many directions and unfortunately made him some enemies. This documentary was released on HBO on April 2, 2018 in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the death of King. This documentary weaves together original footage of King’s speeches with modern interviews of some of his close friends reflecting back on the days they worked alongside King. This entry piggy-backs off of my entry about the historical drama film Selma.

pe002501The timeline in this documentary starts in 1966 when King went to live in a run-down building in Chicago. This was the beginning of his movement to End Slums in Chicago. With all the attention on demonstrations in the South, there was a common sentiment that a place in the North like Chicago didn’t have race issues. However, the dilapidated building infested with rats and sometimes lacking heat or electricity that King stayed in was not uncommon in Chicago; King was calling attention to the poor housing conditions and interrelated lack of access to education and employment in these poor and predominantly black neighborhoods in the West Side of Chicago. King patiently marched and organized community leaders to demand that folks should not be denied decent housing because of the color of their skin. King said the strong resistance he faced in Chicago by white folks showed the true colors of the U.S. Slums like the one he was staying in were being created and upheld by the system. In one speech in Chicago, King said point-blank, “We are tired of being lynched physically in Mississippi, and we are tired of being lynched spiritually and economically in the North.”

King faced many angry and violent protesters (seen in the footage holding signs like, “We Want Wallace”), yet was always resolute with his commitment to nonviolent resistance. King was calling for a restructuring of society and said this movement, “might be the biggest thing since our march in Selma.” As the third largest city in the U.S., he figured if the problems in Chicago could be solved, these problems could be solved everywhere. CKIB3YSUZJBIFEHW3ALFFH4EJUIn contrast to the amicable relationship between President Johnson and King seen in Selma a few years prior, here we hear conversations between Johnson and Robert Daly (the mayor of Chicago at the time) about how to “handle King.” Since the march on Selma, President Johnson and his administration felt that King was overstepping with his demands. This only worsened when King later spoke out against the Vietnam War.

For a while, King–as advised by his close friends–refrained from publicly taking a stand against the Vietnam War. People on his staff were wary about him getting involved in other movements because they felt he was biting off more than he could chew, and some of the protests against the Vietnam War were violent and disorganized. In addition, speaking out against the war was seen as anti-American and adversarial towards President Johnson, an ally in the Civil Rights Movement. King and his associates were already being closely surveilled by the FBI, so they feared that speaking out against this war alongside his essentially socialist empowerment of working-class people would be flagged as Communist amidst a Red Scare.

Coretta Scott King was actually vocal against the Vietnam War first, joining in some protests without her husband. Martin Luther King Jr. kept some distance from the movement, but anti-war groups continued to request his support. As an advocate for nonviolence and for all people, King felt he could not in good conscience remain silent on the war. In 1967, King gave a powerful speech at the Riverside Church where he said that he could no longer speak out against the violence and injustice within his country without also speaking out against the violence his country—“the greatest purveyor of violence in the world”—was responsible for abroad. His speech against the Vietnam War highlights the interrelatedness of everything he fought against. Poor men–disproportionately people of color–with no other choice were sent abroad and died for a country that wasn’t supporting their communities or their own liberties. King argued that these issues are all related in his movement for peace.

After this speech, the media and even some of his allies turned on him, saying things like he had “no right having an opinion on foreign affairs,” or questioned his audacity to speak out against “issues beyond civil rights.” King is rightfully celebrated for his fight against segregation and racism, but when he founded the Poor People’s Campaign and supported anti-Vietnam War protests, some people felt he was rocking too many boats. In this documentary, his friends recalled somberly how heavily the betrayal weighed on King when those around him did not support him in this decision.

Meanwhile, King was also trying to manage a significant split that was happening within the Civil Rights Movement. Stokely Carmichael, head of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee and a participant in the march from Selma, felt strongly that the key was to empower Black Power to fight back. To him and a growing number of black activists, nonviolence was a tactic appropriate for some situations, but fighting back meant using violence if needed to get change. King and Carmichael in Mississippi MarchKing always advocated for only nonviolent protests, but he understood that people were frustrated. He supported the protests led by Carmichael and marched alongside him in hopes that he could keep them nonviolent. As the Black Power movement gained momentum, though, King was left trying to manage this fire among all the others.

This divide that was happening 50 years ago is still very relevant to the social justice movement today. In his famous letter from the Birmingham Jail, King said, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” King tirelessly fought against injustice, and he knew that the fight against racism, poverty, and war were all connected. Despite knowing that he was being spread too thin, he could not turn his back on any of these fights. Carmichael, on the other hand, believed that it was not actually possible for black people to gain power within a system made by white people. While he agreed that racism and poverty were deeply connected, he felt that rising to middle class meant assimilating into the “white world” and then turning your back on your brothers. The fear that, after helping your brothers up, they will immediately pull the ladder up behind them and leave you to suffer is common and understandable, but has always splintered working-class movements. King’s Poor People’s Campaign was a very intentional effort to unite all working-class folks, regardless of their color or background, through their shared desire for improved living conditions.

Martin Luther King Jr. was truly an inspirational leader, full of compassion and always committed to nonviolence. Even when someone threatened his life, King had no hate for them and continued to believe that all people are on the same side. He viewed racism like a sickness and preached that we mustn’t blame the sick, but try to cure the sickness. In this film, his friends talk about how he did not fear death, and even used humor to address the reality that the nature of his work would likely eventually kill him. King beautifully said, “If you truly want to be free, you must get over the love of wealth and the fear of death.”

M29374-14This film includes some footage from King’s funeral. Coretta is seen standing stoically at the funeral, which was open-casket and open to the public. It must have been very hard for the family to have to mourn publicly, but Coretta knew that his death was hard on everyone and that the people needed this funeral as a chance to mourn as well. There is a heart-wrenching moment when Martin Luther King Sr. is overcome with grief when he looks at his son’s casket.

A commemoration like this film is a good reminder of the progress we have made and how much more work needs to be done here in the U.S. I am so thankful of the progress made due to the fearless struggles by those before us and continued by people today. I attended a service at a Baptist church near me that was also in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of King’s death. The service featured three members of the church who had participated in the March on Washington. One woman talked about how she, in her twenties at the time, had marched alongside an 82-year-old woman who marched with such enthusiasm because of how important that moment was to her. Both of them looked at all the people gathered around them and were filled with hope. Reflecting back during this service, this woman was also grateful for all the progress that had been made in the past 50 years. I hope many more leaders carrying the mantle of nonviolent struggle against racism, poverty, and imperialism arise.

Movie: Selma (2014)

This entry is about Selma, a historical drama film made in 2014 depicting the events around the voting-rights march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, led by Martin Luther King Jr. in 1965. To be honest, I started this entry on Selma years ago when I watched it, but the themes addressed have only gotten more relevant to the current state of affairs in the U.S. that it was difficult for me to finish this entry. When I watched a recent documentary about Martin Luther King Jr. (King in the Wilderness), I felt it was time to write about them both. The two entries are very closely tied, but in order to keep each one focused and a reasonable length, I kept the entries separate.

selma-david-oyelowo-oprahSelma’s director Ava Marie DuVernay became known for her break-out film Middle of Nowhere (2012), for which she won Best Director at the Sundance Film Festival. Selma was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture, making DuVernay the first female African-American director to have her film even nominated for this Oscar. (Women still remain largely unrecognized in the Best Director Oscar category). The nomination was well-deserved, the film complete with beautiful cinematography and a powerful soundtrack. The acting was also quite solid and not overly dramatic, despite the gravity of the events being depicted.

Like Spielberg with Lincoln, it is interesting which story director DuVernay decided to focus on. Both films focus on quite short time frames that exclude some very famous moments, so perhaps benefit from some explanation of the context. Like with Lincoln, I think this choice is intentional in order to show how hard-fought these battles for change were and how things weren’t simply fixed with Lincoln abolishing slavery or King’s “I Have a Dream” speech in Washington.

The 15th Amendment was ratified in 1870, declaring it unconstitutional to deny someone the right to vote based on “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” By the time of the march from Selma in 1965, African-Americans technically had the right to vote for nearly a century. However, methods ranging anywhere from unreasonable literacy tests, to steep poll taxes, to blatant intimidation were used to greatly limit the ability for black Americans to actually vote. Even after the abolition of slavery, the Jim Crow laws–implemented throughout the former Confederacy states of the south–were used to legally enforce racial segregation, with “separate but equal” facilities for black and white folks. jim_crow2While separate was certainly true, equal rarely was. From restrooms to schools to buses, the facilities for black people were often underfunded or sometimes even nonexistent, effectively depriving many rights and services from free black men and women. With these laws, people were still legally allowed to discriminate and deny service solely based on the color of someone’s skin, and the registrar could discriminatorily deny the right to vote through inconsistent scrutiny.

After World War II, African-Americans began to demand more rights. Many had chosen to fight alongside their fellow citizens, and justly felt they deserved full rights for their service. The Civil Rights Movement fighting against segregation and racial inequality began to gain momentum, and was enhanced in the 1960s by other groups also fighting for more rights. In 1964, the Civil Rights Act was passed, outlawing on a federal level any discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. This was an important step towards finally tearing down segregation, ending the Jim Crow laws, and providing equal employment opportunities. The march from Selma depicted in this film was specifically focused on getting the government to actually enforce the 15th Amendment and crack down on the discriminatory barriers keeping blacks from voting. Selma is in a county that was and still is over 50% African-American, but, at that time, only 1% of African-Americans in the county were registered to vote. The film begins with Annie Lee Cooper (played by Oprah Winfrey) being denied once again when attempting to register to vote. We also see the tragic deaths of four young black girls in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing of 1963 by a KKK member. With this, director DuVernay successfully sets the stage.

150319-may-selma-2nd-march-tease_wgjl4zThroughout this film, we are able to see the great and pragmatic leadership of Martin Luther King Jr. King works on several fronts. With local leaders near Selma, he leads demonstrations demanding increased protection of constitutional rights–particularly voting rights–of African-Americans; meanwhile, King works with President Lyndon B. Johnson to push forward a voting rights bill at the federal level. After the unjust and violent death of Jimmie Lee Jackson during a peaceful protest, King works with leaders of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC) to organize the march from Selma to Montgomery to increase their voice for their demands. SelmaWhen Alabama Governor Wallace denounces the march and says he will use whatever means necessary to prevent it, King asks President Johnson for federal protection of this protest. During the first attempt on March 7 to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge on the way to Montgomery, the marchers are brutally beat down and tear gassed by state troopers and county police in what would later be known as “Bloody Sunday.” In the second attempt, the marchers are joined by allies—white and black—from churches and other activist groups around the country. Still without federal protection, however, King chooses to not lead the march across the bridge. With the third attempt on March 21, President Johnson promises protection, and the protesters arrive to the capital of Alabama on March 25.

By the time of the events of Selma, King was already well-respected and had received the Nobel Peace Prize for his nonviolent activism. King had the power to inspire people to rise up with his moving speeches; but with that, he remained aware of the risk he put people in by asking them to protest with him and always emphasized nonviolent protest. In the film, King at times struggles to decide how best to act and is criticized by some activists for not doing enough. However, he carefully considers how to increase the impact of each protest. He is able to direct the emotional pain of losing a loved one and the feeling of injustice to rally a community as well as any sympathizers, saying in one speech, martin4“I am appealing to men and women of God and goodwill everywhere, white, black, and otherwise… If you believe all are created equal, join our march against injustice and inhumanity.” King also harnessed the media coverage–such as the televising of the horrific violence of “Bloody Sunday”–to increase support from the people and put more pressure on the President.

There was some criticism of this film for portraying President Johnson too negatively, given that he is often respected for his work focused on eliminating poverty and racial injustice. However, I appreciated the realistic portrayal of President Johnson. In the film, he is certainly not glorified as a civil rights hero, but he is still a man led by his principles. The mutual respect between King and Johnson is shown as King is seen several times trying to convince LBJ of the need to act, both for the sake of civil rights and good politics. LBJ pushes back against King’s request for voting rights protection legislation; Johnson fears meeting a high amount of resistance, especially so soon after the hard-fought passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. However, President Johnson firmly condemns the violent handling of the march by Governor Wallace, telling him, “I’ll be damned to let history put me in the same place as the likes of you.” Johnson is seen as a politician trying to balance policies through turbulent times within the country as well as overseas in Vietnam. Even the sheriff and Governor Wallace–while, in no uncertain terms, are unlikeable for their role in the violence and support of segregation–aren’t portrayed as unrealistic villains, but rather as dangerously led by their segregationist ideals such that they believe they are justified in their violence.

After the march from Selma, President Johnson addressed Congress in a powerful speech appealing that this was not an issue just for the South, Democrats, or black Americans, but rather all Americans. He also reminded the country that, although slaves were freed over a century ago, the events of Selma were a reminder of how African-Americans still don’t have the rights of a free man. President Johnson was a strong voice because, as a devout Christian from the South, he argued for the moral importance for people all across the U.S. to uphold the country’s promise for freedom and opportunity to all peoples. After his moving speech, the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was successfully passed, which outlawed many of these discriminatory devices that historically disenfranchised racial minorities. Since the Voting Rights Act, voter registration of African-Americans has significantly increased, as well as the number of African-Americans holding an elected position. This Act of course also helped reduce barriers for other minorities, including Hispanics and Asians.

Behind the scenes, there were a couple of things that made the production of this movie interesting. The first is that apparently the speeches of Martin Luther King Jr. are copyrighted by the King estate, meaning the exact words of his speeches could not be used in Selma. Therefore, DuVernay had to write the speeches in this film that captured the essence of King without using his words. This must have been extremely difficult because King gave such strong and compelling speeches with carefully selected words. 201501-omag-selma-women-composite-949x534The original movie script was written by Paul Webb, but DuVernay made significant changes to it, including reducing the focus on President Johnson and increasing the role of female characters. (The original apparently solely consisted of one phone call from Coretta Scott King). As mentioned before, this choice resulted in some criticism, but DuVernay did not want to make a movie celebrating the accomplishments of one white politician, but rather the collective impact of many black men and women.

In an interview, DuVernay commented on her intentional choice to call upon the people of Selma for both the black and white extras in the marching scenes. She said watching everyone work through these tough scenes together was an important way for the people of Selma to address their painful past and underlined for her how important it is to keep telling these stories.

Director DuVernay has gained a lot of acclaim with her recent works. Middle of Nowhere had a budget of $200,000, while Selma had a budget of $20 million. She said the big jump in budget and crew took some getting used to. DuVernay’s newest release A Wrinkle in Time had a budget of $103 million, so I’m sure that took some getting used to as well. She created an independent film distribution company (ARRAY) as one way to encourage other African-American filmmakers.

Looking at this movie, it is wonderful to be reminded of the progress the United States has made. However, this movie is also a reminder that this fight is still happening. The Jim Crow laws have been outlawed, but the New Jim Crow (as described in author Michelle Alexander’s book) is the disproportionate incarceration and therefore disenfranchisement of black men due to the War on Drugs. Also, some states still have discriminatory legislation, such as photo ID requirements that are supposedly to reduce voter fraud, but actually disproportionately impact minorities and working-class individuals who aren’t always able to acquire one of the approved IDs.

Additionally, there has recently been more media coverage about the unwarranted violent treatment and too often death of black men and occasionally women by police officers. selma-premiere-protest-i-cant-breathe-david-oyelowo-ava-duvernayFilming for Selma started before the deaths of Mike Brown and Eric Garner, but by its release, Selma deeply resonated with the important conversations that were happening around the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement. The BLM protests in Ferugson are alluded to in the ending credits song (“Glory” by Common and John Legend, which won an Oscar): “This is why we walked through Ferguson with our hands up.” There is certainly a need for action—notably nonviolent action—today. The BLM movement is addressing how a deep-rooted, systemic racism—such as disproportionate incarceration rates and violence by the police force toward black people—still exists in the U.S. today.

After the death of Jimmie Lee Jackson, King gives a moving speech calling for action against the injustice that allowed his death. He makes it clear that non-action supports the problem when he says, “How many fingers were on that trigger? Every person who allows this to continue.” All the progress we have made has been due to people bravely fighting against the status quo.