And this is actually part of what makes the film fun, in spite of its apparently heartfelt concern, dire warnings about our impending enslavement, and proposed solutions. I personally don’t question Gamble’s sincerity, but as the old adage goes, I also don’t question the sincerity of a crazed ax murderer on a rampage. On the one hand, Gamble comes across as a genuinely nice rich bloke who grew up in a bubble, and suddenly was exposed to some of the God-awful stuff going on in the world and got upset about it. On the other hand, the insane meandering from tinfoildom to cuddly new-ageyness to rabid anti-establishment libertarian rants against OTHER families of the global elite like the Rothschilds leaves one wondering if in fact Gamble’s whole shtick is an elaborate false flag, designed to keep a prole’s head spinning.

If Gamble is sincere in this epic effort, it certainly doesn’t help his credibility when half the experts appearing in the film have officially stated they were misrepresented, and the other half are paranoid delusional nutjobs talking about extraterrestrials and magical infinite power sources. But the fact that it’s almost impossible to find biographical info on the fellow – combined with the film’s bizarre obsession with connecting everything in the known universe to a mystical donut shape – makes the film a strangely amusing “meta” experience. I think I’m going to watch it again RIGHT NOW. Or at least after I make some Jiffy Pop and fashion the foil into a nice little hat.

The Thrive Trailer

If you’ve seen Mars Attacks, you know that Gamble isn’t the first to recognize the power of the donut:

An aerial view of the “set” of Problema

What would happen if you rounded up thought-provoking questions from people all over the world, then gathered about a hundred thoughtful people together in a huge circle, pointed cameras at them, and asked the questions one by one? Well, a cacophonous murmur would probably ensue, until you edited the results into some kind of cohesive whole, as director Ralf Schmerberg did with his epic film project Problema. The project was inspired by the Dropping Knowledge project, a global information sharing and media project founded in 2003. On a single day in September, 2006, over a hundred individuals – artists, scientists, writers, business people, and other thinkers – took their place around a huge circle in Berlin’s Bebelplatz. This was a powerfully symbolic choice – the Bebelplatz was the location of the infamous Nazi book burnings of 1933. With digital cameras pointed at each guest, hosts Willem Dafoe and Hafsat Abiola (founder of Nigeria’s Kudirat Initiative for Democracy) asked 17 of 100 questions that had been selected from the thousands that were submitted worldwide via the Dropping Knowledge project. The guests then responded in their own time, with the cameras all running continuously, all framing the guests in a tight headshot. Guest Wim Wenders – director of the film Wings of Desire – astutely pointed out the similarity between the resulting murmur and the way the angels in his film had no choice but to hear the thoughts of humans everywhere, which created much of the lush sonic backdrop of Wings of Desire. Schmerberg – Problema’s director – managed to capture much of this live feeling of the event by interspersing compelling, sometimes tear-inducing images with a lively mixture of both concise, eyes-at-the-camera answers, and almost out-take-like moments of verité in which the attendees fumbled with their thoughts or spoke in asides to the guests sitting next to them. The result is a thought-provoking documentary unlike any you’ve seen before. If you’re a caring person who lives in the so-called “First World”, a question like “Does our wealth depend on the Third World being poor?” might make you think “Well of course, and it’s a shameful tragedy”.  But you’ll suddenly be forced to ponder things like what a bogus concept the “Third World” is in the first place, or how much freedom you have if you live in a powerful western capitalist country, when a sophisticated, educated person from Colombia points out that he for instance is only able to visit a place like Berlin because of a four day visa connected with the making of the film. He otherwise is barred from our “first world” as a second-rate global citizen who “has no right to enter our paradise” as he puts it. Although you may find Problema quite watchable on your own, you might find it a lot more interesting if you watch it with some intelligent friends, so you can discuss the world of questions it is likely to raise in your heart and your head. To view the film as a particapatory event, the Problema website offers a screening  page that allows you to publicize the event, but you can just download it and watch it with friends if you like – it’s free, provided in multiple file formats, and can be downloaded by bittorrent or as a direct file.

If by chance you spent any time in a nightclub in the last thirty years, there’s a fairly good chance that you owe what your feet were doing either directly or indirectly to the band Kraftwerk. From their early experimental work that led to the more commercial Autobahn and Radio-Activity in the mid 70′s, right through their infectious and often re-mixed machine pop of the 80′s, Kraftwerk’s music helped shape the entire Punk/alternative waves of the 70′s and 80′s. In part by helping inspire Bowie and Eno to move to Berlin, and in part by creating the basic template for the sounds of tunes like Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” and bands and artists like Gary Numan, Depeche Mode, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, and Human League, to name just a few. And it’s probably safe to say that entire genres – like techno, industrial, and house – would not later even exist if it weren’t for Kraftwerk’s innovations in electronic pop and dance music. Hell, without Kraftwerk, Sprockets itself would be impossible. And then whose monkey would we touch? I’m stating the obvious here, mostly for any ignorant young hipsters reading that haven’t pieced these facts together yet. My own experience with Kraftwerk began as a teen, being transported to alternate realities by the sonic landscapes of tunes like “Autobahn” (with perhaps a little neurochemical assistance), which inspired me to become a fairly obsessive synthesist myself in an era before electronic pop really even existed. It’s important to note that while artists like Wendy Carlos were creating their brilliantly elaborate, but still bleepy and sqawky works like Switched-On Bach, Kraftwerk was creating electronic pop music so listenable and evolved in its sensibilities that artists like Eno have described it as “nostalgia from the future”. And Kraftwerk’s brilliantly simple marketing themes – from the slyly uber-teutonic Autobahn album cover with its iconic Mercedes Benz and Volkswagen cruising through the rolling hills of a Germanic dreamland, to their later images that implied – but directly never mentioned – the coldly intellectual clean cut scientists of World War II Germany – have helped maintain a peculiar mystique around the band for decades. I mean, have you ever actually seen or heard zee operator wiss zee pocket calc-u-lator speak in an interview? Probably not, unless you stopped by KlingKlang Studio in Dusseldorf and caught them in. The studio doesn’t even have a phone, according to this Guardian piece that explores the band’s press stealth, but manages to illicit “I got a new head, and I’m fine“. But enough of my sycophantic drivel, I really just wanted to suggest that if you have three hours and an obsessive interest in the intricate details of Kraftwerk’s evolution, you should check out Kraftwerk and the Electronic Revolution. It explores the entire German electronic music scene from the 60′s through to the 80′s, with Kraftwerk as a main course but with fairly hearty (and probably necessary) side-dishes of Popol Vuh, Tangerine Dream, Amon Duul and Neu! If you’re REALLY into Kraftwerk, you may have already seen it; it’s been out since 2008. I personally only discovered it the other day. I recommend watching it as a mini-series though; three straight hours of in-depth commentary and analysis was a bit much even for a lifelong fan like like myself. It’s already a great deal as an on-demand DVD, but there’s also a $2.99 download. And if you simply don’t have the attention span, maybe you should just get their new iPhone app, released last week.

Quite some time ago, San Francisco radio figure Wes Nisker said If You Don’t Like the News, Go Out and Make Some of Your Own. Apparently Rupert Murdoch, Jack Welch, and other media moguls took his advice. I’ve been fascinated with the literally Orwellian evolution of media control in America over the past decade or two that began in earnest with the deregulation of the Reagan years and has resulted in ten or fewer media companies owning everything. Which is a bad enough thing in itself, but gets really bad when those same companies control the government as well. As a well-conditioned media consumer, I was so busy Facebooking about my emotional knee-jerk reactions to liberal and conservative media pundits that I had forgotten that this behavior of mine was all part of a vast Orwellian 21st century robber baron plan. That is, until I was reminded of this fact last week when I finally saw the 2005 documentary Orwell Rolls in His Grave. It’s a shame that the makers of the film didn’t package the product a little differently; the title gives off a paranoid post 9/11 vibe that detracts from the substance of the film, which is an insightful exploration of the corporate media dominance of what you see, read and hear as a result of influence peddling and Washington’s unprecedented revolving door policies of late. Much like Noam Chomsky’s Manufacturing Consent, the film wallows a bit too much in what seems like academic hand-wringing, and plays the Orwell angle a little too hard. The fact is that Orwell wouldn’t be rolling in his grave, because the film effectively makes the case that we’re living exactly the way Orwell envisioned things. I’d still recommend the film, and if you’re interested in this topic, the totally unrelated book The The Elements of Journalism, which explores a similar topic, i.e.: the failure of journalism as a result of the purely profit-driven decision making that has replaced “real” news with entertainment. I sometimes lament that most whistleblower-oriented documentaries – like Food, Inc., Outfoxed, and virtually anything by Michael Moore – end up coming across as liberal whining in the end. It would be inspiring if someone managed to produce a less partisan documentary that just looked at the apalling truth of it all. Yes, the Bush White House that was brought to us by Project For A New American Century was indeed Orwellian in its lies and doublespeak, but the real evil is not the party they claimed to represent, it’s the pathological behavior of the media companies that seek control of government through agency capture. America *needs investigative journalism, hard hitting documentaries, and gutsy exposés more than ever right now. But don’t expect to see them in a major theater in an era when Disney blocks the distribution of a Michael Moore film for telling too much of the truth about George Bush. Fortunately, at least for now, we have the Internet, so you can watch entire films like Orwell Rolls in His Grave on line .

I have to admit that as much as I love film (and I DO love film, with a passion), there’s still a level of film fetishism that I don’t really grasp. Sure, I’ve watched Blade Runner over 200 times, but who in their right mind hasn’t? No, I have to draw the line at things like dressing up as a character from a film. At least when it’s not Halloween. Which is why I’ll never understand the legions of Star Wars Storm Troopers that convene on a regular basis, in full battle regalia, and at their own considerable expense. Or the people who maintain Wookieepedia. Or people that create web sites that tell you the best times to pee during a film. At the same time, I have to admire the dedication this kind of thing requires, especially in the case of the people behind a project like The People vs. George Lucas, the new documentary about the poor souls whose lives were destroyed by the numerous changes Lucas made to the original Star Wars Trilogy on re-release. The producers of the film put it this way: “The People vs. George Lucas explores the titanic struggle between a Godlike filmmaker and his legions of fans over the most popular franchise in movie history. At its core, PvsG is the examination of a high-profile, dysfunctional love story. George created this humongous and intricate sandbox for us to play in; but is he the sole owner of it, or does it now belong to the ages? And what happens to your role as a creator when your audience claims it owns your art? We basically looked at the conflicted dynamic between George and his fans from a cultural perspective, and asked ourselves those questions.” Although I’ve yet to see the film, I think a simpler assessment may be in order. Maybe it’s just a bunch of web-enabled misanthropic fanboys venting the rage that used to be confined to their smelly bedrooms, but which – thanks to the power of crowdsourcing – must now be endured by the entire world. I jest of course; it promises to be an amusing film, and makes its debut at SXSW 2010 the week of March 12. See the teasers above left and below.

The The People vs. George Lucas 2010 Trailer:

The South Park kids have been on top of this since 2002

Because we all know what happens to Storm Troopers when George Lucas gets his hands on them:

These people scare me a little…

But some would argue that Femtroopers make up for it all:

These are actual member stats from the 501st Legion. Let’s hope they don’t have a fire!

Last year I shared that I had decided to stop belittling Kwanzaa for being a made-up holiday, which I had been doing for years mostly because I was completely ignorant of what it was really all about, beyond the parts that were all too easy to poke fun at. This sentiment seems to be gathering some press here and there; this Slate piece by Melonyce McAfee, for instance, describes firsthand the positive part Kwanzaa played in at least one person’s upbringing. If you’re as ignorant as I was about the details of the holiday, you can of course hit Wikipedia, but I’m personally looking forward to watching The Black Candle, an award-winning documentary directed by author and filmmaker M.K. Asante Jr., and narrated by Maya Angelou. It’s available on DVD, but it also is making its TV debut on TVOne on Saturday December 26. If – like me – you’re in the Detroit area, there are also special free screenings on the 26th, 27th and 29th at the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History. If you’re elsewhere in the country, find a screening here. The official trailer is below, and there’s an extended unofficial nine minute preview on YouTube.

I’ve been a little hard on Michael Moore in the past, but in my heart of hearts I believe that, much like President Obama (who I think is a good man swimming in a shark tank), his heart is probably in the right place, regardless of where his ego is. My only real criticism of his films – that they seem more geared toward entertainment and profit than action – is pointless. It’s not his fault that Americans won’t watch a serious film about a serious topic, or that no approach seems to motivate them to act on the things that make them angry or unhappy. So I’m pretty excited to see what Moore has put together this time for Capitalism: A Love Story , due for an October 2, 2009 release. I’ve written plenty on topics like corporate vs individual rights, bailout apathy, fictitious capital, and revolution; so I have some hope that although no-one seems to mind that grotesquely wealthy Americans are getting wealthier while other Americans are going hungry and enjoying a 16.5% nationwide unemployment rate, maybe they’ll still want to learn a bit about it while munching on some popcorn.

Earthlings, a 2003 documentary written and directed by Shaun Monson and narrated by Joaquin Phoenix. Although a bit monotonous and suffering from an almost amateurish voiceover job (Phoenix has a great voice but extremely uneven delivery), the film’s narrative is deeply thoughtful and the slaughterhouse images throughout the film speak volumes on their own.

Food, Inc., Which in their words “lifts the veil on our nation’s food industry, exposing the highly mechanized underbelly that has been hidden from the American consumer with the consent of our government’s regulatory agencies, USDA and FDA” putting “profit ahead of consumer health, the livelihood of the American farmer, the safety of workers and our own environment”.

Death on a Factory Farm, HBO’s 2006 documentary that takes a harrowing look at animal cruelty in an Ohio factory hog farm, as chronicled through undercover footage taken by “Pete,” an animal-rights investigator hired by the animal rights group The Humane Farming Association.

But alas, I’ve herd many are not mooved by these films, and in fact remain udderly indifferent to the issue. No matter. I will remain uncowed in my pursuit of a healthy new diet.

Just when I’m pretty sure I’ve exhausted the more interesting and obscure pop music fusions from around the world, someone has to come along and show me otherwise. The other day a photographer friend of mine mentioned the film Sleepwalking Through the Mekong. If you haven’t seen it, you’re in for a unique treat. Shot in a casual documentary style, the film follows the LA band Dengue Fever on a tour through Cambodia, explaining how five American musicians hooked up with a Cambodian singer in LA to form a band to play 60′s Cambodian Pop. And before you laugh at the idea of Cambodian pop, give the stuff a listen; it jumps on the wave of 60′s surfer psychedelia and takes it to the tropics with a sort of plaintive island sound that’s probably unlike anything you’ve heard before. The film also explores a painful aspect of Khmer music and Cambodian pop; since many of the original stars of the genre (Sinn Sisamouth, Pan Ron , Ros Sereysothea) were were creating their music in the years just prior to the Pol Pot massacres, they all are presumed to have been killed in the mass slaughter of Cambodia’s legendary Killing Fields. I frankly cried during a profoundly bittersweet moment in the film in which a music teacher who was alive – but of course unable to sing Khmer pop music during the Khmer Rouge regime – was able to see her young students gleefullly performing the happy pop songs she was denied. And ironically, with a group of Americans who have a genuine passion for Khmer culture rather than a passion for carpet bombing their country and looking away as a demented leader slaughters nearly a third of their population. By the way, Dengue Fever not only serves up some heartfelt and authentic pop, they’re apparently commited to assisting the wildlife of Cambodia.