Recently in The World Outside America Category

Reuters is reporting that an estimated 1,150 prisoners, including 400 Taliban were set loose from a prison in Kandahar, today. The door was apparently blown open by a truck bomb, presumably as part of a massive Taliban-organized prison break.

Are you kidding me? Oh, goodie. If there was any doubt that we were fighting two wars, they're gone, now. 400 more Taliban on the loose in Afghanistan?

Something tells me the Stop-Loss fiasco is going to continue for years.

Friday marked the New York City premiere of Alex Gibney's Oscar-nominated documentary, Taxi to the Dark Side, the rather grim story of a young Afghani goat herder and taxi driver named Dilawar who is mistakenly suspected of being a terrorist by our military intelligence. Brought into Bagram for interrogation, Dilawar is subsequently tortured and killed by his interrogators. The ThinkFilm release gets to the darker truths, namely that not only is the intelligence questionable in the first place but that the interrogators were, in fact, young soldiers utterly untrained and inexperienced in the ways of proper interrogation techniques.

Matters are made worse when the soldiers are encouraged by their superiors to go to any lengths to get their confessions. In addition to the now prosecuted soldiers, among the interview subjects are New York Times journalists, various academics, politicians, former military brass and, most notably, Gibney's own father who died during post-production. Frank Gibney, himself a former interrogator during World War II, best expresses the sense of outrage with the Bush Administration and as images of Bush, Cheney, Rumsefeld and Gonzalez flash across the screen it's hard not to squirm in your seat by your own sense of frustration. There doesn't seem to be any level of success when it comes to the administration's war on terrorism, itself an unforgivable reminder of those who perished on 9/11.

Gibney, who also directed the award-winning Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room, recently met with journalists and described the challenges and rewards of making Taxi to the Dark Side. Here are a few of clips from that interview.

Clip #1: Gibney discusses his father Frank's experiences as an interrogator during WW II:

Persepolis (Reviewed at the 44th New York Film Festival) Directed by Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud Written by Vincent Paronnaud and Marjane Satrapi Based on the Original Graphic Novels by Marjane Satrapi Released by Sony Pictures Classics

The Film Society of Lincoln Center wisely chose Marjane Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud's Persepolis to close its 45th Season. The French language animated film, mostly in black & white, opens in theaters in both NYC and LA today. The film feels at once nostalgic and freshly new. Even for those who don't primarily identify themselves as political, the story, adapted from a series of autobiographical graphic novels of the same name, is a universal one; that of a young woman's journey from innocence to maturity. It just so happens that the back drop of her story includes the Islamic Revolution in Iran and the country's turn from a socially progressive society to one of fundamentalism and fear.

Marjane (the voice of Chirara Mastroianni, Marcello's daughter), our young heroine, is growing up in Tehran during a most tumultuous time. When we are first introduced to her, she is your average precocious nine year old but it's not long before she experiences the loss of her beloved uncle who is executed as a war criminal. By the time she is 14, her parents, concerned for her safety, send her off to boarding school in Vienna. The scenes that follow, where young Marjane is so homesick for her parents (the voices of Catherine Deneuve and Simon Akbarian) and her grandmother (France's legendary actress Danielle Darrieux) are among the film's most gripping, where for all intents and purposes, you forget you are watching a cartoon.

Today Pakistan's president General Pervez Musharraf declared a state of emergency in Pakistan, suspending the constitution and declaring martial law, claiming that Pakistan is at a "critical and dangerous juncture," according to cnn.com. The same report says that the supreme court declared the state of emergency illegal leading Musharraf to expel the chief justice, sending troops into the court building. Pakistan is arguably the most critical nation in the world (apart from the US, of course) with regards to the attempts to control Islamic terrorism, is controls a nuclear arsenal and is constantly in tensions over India, another nuclear power.

There are also news reports that opposition leader Imran Khan has been placed under house arrest after calling for Pakistanis to take to the streets to protest the action by Musharraf. According to Adelaide Now, most private TV news channels in Pakistan were taken off the air as Khan was making his appeal.

This all happened several hours ago and only now is CNN breaking into regular programming. Fox News ran a small segment and as far as I can tell, MSNBC and CNBC are largely silent on the developments.

Am I overreacting or is this a major news story that deserves a little more coverage?

A few seconds of Czech Scooby Doo, recorded at about 5am, on my way up to my room from Hell in the basement of the Hotel Thermal in Karlovy Vary on July 7th.

James Earl "Jimmy" Carter, Jr., the 39th president of the United States turns 83 today and I want you all to wish this amazing man a happy birthday in whatever way you can. If I'd known, I would have prepared something earllier in the day, but as it is, I was working on my review of Jonathan Demme's excellent new documentary Jimmy Carter Man From Plains and noticed that today was his birthday. And how would president Carter be spending the start of his 84th year on Earth, you might ask? Well, he is part of a group of international leaders that landed yesterday in Khartoum, Sudan to do what they can to help end the suffering in Darfur. At an age when many people are either unable or not unterested in continuing to contribute, Jimmy Carter is half-way around the world trying to end unimaginable suffering. If that's not a hero, I don't know what is.

Photo by Alex Cohn © 2007 Real Peace Productions, Inc. courtesy Sony Pictures Classics. All Rights Reserved.

A thought struck me when I was riding in from the aiport in Toronto, the other day: In Canada, are they just simply called "Geese?"

I’ve been delinquent in writing some important reviews regarding the Human Rights Watch film festival, or so my editor, The Rabbi, reminds me. Well, it’s true. And what better way to combat my recent bout of pneumonia than to sit through about a dozen or more documentaries about the pain, suffering, war ravaging, and sometimes downright brutal goings on around the globe? While there was certainly a lot of cringe-worthy moments through the various films, more typically, I found myself profoundly moved and inspired. Herein are some of the festival’s highlights.
-Adam

The Devil Came on Horseback
Dir: Annie Sundberg & Ricki Stern
Former U.S. Marine, Brian Steidle, returns to Darfur as an official military observer with the African Union. With camera in hand Steidle documents the atrocities in areas of the war ravaged country that no western journalist would have access to. With that came the inherent dangers of threatening confrontations, being shot at, and having to bear witness to violence on innocent men, women and, most painfully of all, children. To say that the former marine Captain becomes a changed man, is a profound understatement. The documentary successfully conveys his sense of outrage at the complete lack of western intervention. Also interviewed in this powerful documentary are New York Times reporter Nicholas Kristoff, Luis Campo chief prosecutor for the International Criminal Court (ICC) and Nobel Peace Prize winning author and professor Elie Wiesel.

One of the indie fixtures here at the Galway Film Fair (the co-production and development market side of the festival) is Jeff "The Dude" Dowd. A producer's rep by trade, Jeff also happens to be the model for The Dude in the Coen Brother's film, The Big Lebowski. Now, the indie film world pretty much all know this, but once in a while it's a trip to be in a place with Jeff when his connection to the film isn't known. The scene: The Dude checks in at the Fleadh. Girl: "Wow! You look just like the guy from The Big Lebowski!" Ah, the innocence of the uninitiated. Of course, like everywhere else in the world (probably) The Big Lebowski has a huge cult-like following here and as word got around, The Dude was swamped. Messages started appearing on the sidewalk:

One evening, as he was introducing himself, Jeff said: "Jeff Dowd. Or the Dude. Or El Duderino, if you're not into that whole brevity thing." Fecking brilliant! And of course, there's the craic:

L to R: "Magic" Johnson of the 15 Second Film Festival, Magners Boston Irish Film Festival producer Dawn Morrissey and The Dude.

This young man was clearly over-served but is having a hell of a good time, apparently!

The thing about the Irish is that they've struggled so much as a people, that things that might strike some of us as hardships are shrugged off, much like the seemingly endless stream of rain that drenches this aptly dubbed and enchanting sister city of Seattle. Like the Jews, the Irish have endured oppression for thousands of years and like the Jews they have developed a specific way of looking at it. Whereas complaining to the Jewish grandmother "My soup is cold, Grandma!" might get you a "Do you think they had soup in the camps? Eat your soup, you ungrateful pisher!" The Irishman looks at you if you're a complete weenie and points out that at least you're not starving.

Sweet Jesus, I love guinness!

NOTE: Parts of this review originally appeared in my wrap-up of the 2007 Karlovy Vary International Film Festival on indieWIRE.com

If you have never seen Monte Hellman's Two-Lane Blacktop, get thee to a video store (if you can find one with the ultra-rare DVD) or scour the listings for a rep house playing it. I suppose you might be able to find a torrent, but only until you buy the upcoming Criterion two-disc DVD that Hellman is working on! This blog is anti-piracy. That's right, as you might have read here or on indieWIRE.com, Hellman is shooting new docs for the project. No word on a release date, however.

On Sunday night, my third evening here, I ended up being escorted down to the Becher's Bar in the basement of the Grandhotel Pupp by a fest VIP and I must admit, the place is not hype. I had a great time and some of the best conversations I've had at the fest before or since. While the booze isn't free, there's a food spread that definitely hits the spot once 2 or 3 am rolls around and a dance floor that had the likes of Baltasar Kormákur shaking his tail feathers until the wee hours. The DJ, however, was hit or miss. For every retro-pop one hit wonder like Talk Talk's "Such a Shame" or Dexy's "Come on Eileen," there was a "Tarzan Boy" from Baltimora.

Wanna drink?

That said, the night was a whole hell of a lot of fun, with cigars, Becherovka and lotsa singing and dancing. I managed to pull myself from the place at about 5:30...just as they turned on the lites and said, politely, get out.

In addition to seeing new films and interacting with filmmakers from all over the world, one of the great joys of attending a film festival is getting the chance to see some rare or archival work from the past on a big screen. This year's KVIFF is no different, with the festival section New Hollywood. A bit of a misnomer, the section title refers to the post-classical period, roughly from the end of the 1960's until the beginning of the 1980's and includes such classics as Harold and Maude, The Conversation, The Sugarland Express and The Last Picture Show, among others.

Yesterday I was lucky enough to catch Monte Hellman's 1971 masterpiece, Two-Lane Blacktop. I'd never seen it, and to be able to watch it on a big screen with Dolby digital sound, a pristine print and the director in attendance! Hellman's intro was a treat, with some choice nuggets being imparted to the audience about the future of the film. Hellman said he had been shooting some documentary material for inclusion in an upcoming two disc DVD of the 1971 classic Universal movie for the Criterion Collection! How fucking awesome is that?

Another day, another festival. Or is it another beer? Well, same difference, sometimes. At any rate, it is another film festival, my umpteenth + 4, I think. This time it's the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival (KVIFF, often pronounced, awkwardly: "K'viff") in the Czech spa town of the same name. I am currently in the lobby of my hotel, the Thermal, drinking a wonderful Pilsner Urquell at the extortionate hotel price of $1.50. Yup, you heard right. The thing is, they're 85 cents on the street, so $1.50 is rather a steep markup!

This being my first trip to the Czech Republic (or to any former Eastern Bloc country for that matter) since 1974, there is a certain amount of adjustment to be made. First of all, unlike the rest of Europe, smoking cigarettes in public places is still a national sport, here and that, combined with the lack of anything resembling dry cleaning in my hotel may prove to be a problem. I also forgot my razor, but the Czechs do shave, so I assume at least that won't be a problem. Then there's the language. While I consider myself lingustically adept, I am finding this one rather difficult to learn, but then again, I've only been in country a little over 30 hours, much of that spent either asleep or in a jet-lag/beer induced stupor.

Now about the alcohol. Cheap beer abounds and does a peculiar spirit called Becherovka. It's akin to Jägermeister, in that it's made with oodles of herbs and packs a wallop, but is significantly less viscous and purports to aid in digestion. Considering the preponderance of meat on Czech menus, I might be making copious use of it. It is usually served cold as a shot or on the rocks, but you can also have it with tonic, in which case it's called a "beton," which oddly means "concrete" in Czech. It's actually pretty tasty. To the left is a pic of a wedge of lime seemingly hovering above the surface of BAM curator Florence Almozini's beton.