Heaven divided: Fear and loathing in West Germany / by Taylor Dorrell

_{^{Scene from Wings of Desire}}

“Heaven is a large place,” one of heaven’s head clerks says in Mark Twain’s story, Extract from Captain Stormfield’s Visit to Heaven. “Large empires have many diverse customs.” In the short story, Stormfield accidentally arrives at the wrong heaven after racing a comet on the way to his final home. He must engage with a bureaucratic nightmare at the gate that’s “billions of leagues from the right one,” before getting to the gate for his solar system (the angels (clerks) at the first heaven are unaware of Earth and find it on a map listed as “the Wart”.

In Divided Heaven, a popular 1963 novel by East German writer Christa Wolf, lovers Rita and Manfred are separated between the two Germanies—Manfred moves to the West and Rita stays in the East. “But even if our land is divided, we still share the same heaven,” says Manfred. “No” Rita replies, “they first divided the heaven.”

Both stories highlight how our material conditions shape our images of other worlds, divided by customs, language, and daily life. As Twain put it, “I have traveled more than anyone else, and I have noticed that even the angels speak English with an accent.”

Dissolve the people

In the late 1980s, West German director Wim Wenders secured a meeting with the Minister of Culture of the German Democratic Republic (GDR/East Germany), Hans-Joachim Hoffmann, in anticipation of filming Wings of Desire.

One of the few Wenders films that had been shown in East Berlin up to that point was Paris, Texas, the chronicle of Travis, an alienated individual searching for his lost wife. While the motif was clearly critical of American capitalism, Wenders remained unwitting, claiming that the film was screened in the GDR because “for some reason they decided it was an anti-capitalist movie.”

Wenders hoped that his session with Hoffman could score an approval for Wings of Desire, too. Hoffman, while he’d been a fan of Paris, Texas, was not, as might be expected during the Cold War, keen on the idea of a scriptless film about angels who can move through walls. The movie failed to get the green-light to appear in GDR cinemas.

Frustrated by the decision of the cultural commissar, Wenders might have recalled the famous playwright Bertolt Brecht, who’d been critical of the GDR’s leadership in the 1950s. He became known by many in the West for a section of his sarcastic poem “Die Lösung” (“The Solution”), about the GDR’s response to the 1953 workers’ uprising:

“Would it not in that case
Be simpler for the government
To dissolve the people
And elect another?”

But Brecht and writers like Divided Heaven’s Wolf never mistook their internal qualms with bureaucracy for an endorsement of capitalism or anti-communism. Wolf was herself a member of the ruling Socialist Unity Party of Germany (SED), and Brecht formed the Berliner Ensemble in East Berlin, remaining an ardent Marxist after escaping Nazi Germany and McCarthyite America. They still believed wholeheartedly in a socialist future for Germany.

In the case of Wenders, it would seem he wanted to dissolve political people altogether and elect no one.

Mercedes-Benz suicide

The decaying, yet colorful, image-obsessed depiction of America in Paris, Texas couldn’t be further from Wenders’ Berlin. Wings of Desire depicts a West Berlin that more closely resembles stereotyped images of the socialist bloc, with gray buildings and anxious inhabitants. Wenders reverses this image, holding up a mirror to a capitalist dystopia rampant with homelessness, suicide, and rockstars singing about 17-year-olds. Even the circus is depressing. In a pivotal scene, a young man with headphones is sitting on a building with the Mercedes-Benz sign spinning above him before he jumps to his death.

In the film, two angels named Damiel and Cassiel have existed in Berlin since long before it was a city and up through the rule of the Nazis. But it’s not until 1987 in West Berlin that Damiel is inclined to give up his wings and become human, inspired by a conversation with the actor Peter Falk (Columbo), a former angel himself. When Columbo gives his monologue to Cassiel, however, Cassiel stays back and grins, apparently unswayed by the actor’s charming pitch. The implication is that Columbo can sense the presence of angels being a former one himself.

But a far more critical reading could be employed here: Columbo doesn’t sense angels at all; he was actually just a madman delivering a sales pitch for a pyramid scheme called life. Columbo, a man living on the capitalist side of the world and knowing his new angel recruits would be homeless and hungry, could convince these angels, who presumably have no desperate need for housing and food—an oft-overlooked staple of developed socialist countries—although it might seem like an overly economic-determinist view, is the real story of a divided Germany.

Lederhosen in the GDR

“For the first time I have a painful sense—not simply a rational one—of the tragedy of our two Germanies,” wrote the East German writer, Brigitte Reimann, after her brother moved to West Germany. “Torn families, opposition of brother and sister—what a literary subject! Why is nobody taking this up, why is no one writing a definitive book?”

She took it upon herself and wrote the 1963 novella, Siblings, a story mirroring her experience seeing her brother defect; Reimann followed Wolf and Brecht’s dual criticism of and support for a socialist Germany, telling personal stories of average workers and also organizing through Writers’ Union workshops like one at a lignite plant in Hoyerswerder.

Reimann and Wolf’s novels express, as Dr. Jenny Farrell noted, “women’s confidence in their social equality to an extent that is unparalleled in Western literature and society at that time.” Women’s equality is just one aspect of socialist culture that has been forgotten; another is the story of many defectors going to the East, including American soldier Victor Grossman, who escaped political persecution in the U.S. by swimming the Danube River.

Despite the torn Berlin in Wings of Desire, none of the color that’s so visible in the novels of the GDR translate into Wender’s politically innocent world. “Every person is a universe all by itself,” Wenders said in an interview. Heaven is divided. Wenders presents a capitalist dystopia that seduces the very bureaucrats of heaven (Cassiel gives in to becoming human in the second movie). Meanwhile, West Berliners in the early years would traverse the border to exploit the subsidized food prices—I recall a specific conversation with longtime labor organizer Scott Marshall who remembered visiting the GDR after the Wall went up and constantly running into American G.I.s who’d crossed into East Berlin to purchase lederhosen.

In a TikTok satirizing a tour through the DDR Museum, the tour guide describes the difficult conditions East Berliners witnessed: “They were given an apartment by the state and the apartment was very small. It was free, but it was very dark.” The video shows images of a spacious fully furnished apartment that, if it was located in Manhattan today, would likely sell for a million dollars. The fictional visitor promptly punches the guide. Grossman, the American defector, reflected himself that he only ever paid between 5%-10% of his income on rent in the GDR, which he contrasted to his hometown in the U.S. (even today, the U.S. considers housing affordable when 30% or less is spent on rent).

Much like Rita in Divided Heaven, Grossman, and Brecht, many are coming to a more nuanced understanding of the history and political project of building socialism, one that is imbued with criticism, yes, but also with a belief in moving past a self-destructing world of war and profits. Here is where Wenders and many Western films fall tragically short.

“The worst illiterate,” Brecht formulated, “is the political illiterate… He doesn’t know the cost of life, the price of the bean, of the fish, of the flour, of the rent, of the shoes, and of the medicine, all depends on political decisions.” That Wenders made films critical of capitalism appears to fall on his own deaf ears.

Wings of Desire shows that it’s not only easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism, but that it’s even harder to imagine a heaven after capitalism. One is left seriously questioning the character of angels who, after witnessing all of history, wait until the peak of capitalism in West Germany to check out. To quote Twain, “When I reflect upon the number of disagreeable people who I know have gone to a better world, I am moved to lead a different life.”

_{We hope you appreciated this article. At People’s World, we believe news and information should be free and accessible to all, but we need your help. Our journalism is free of corporate influence and paywalls because we are totally reader-supported. Only you, our readers and supporters, make this possible. If you enjoy reading People’s World and the stories we bring you, please support our work by donating or becoming a monthly sustainer today. Thank you!}

_{Taylor Dorrell is a freelance writer and photographer, contributing writer at the Cleveland Review of Books, reporter at the Columbus Free Press, columnist at Matter News, and organizer in the Freelance Solidarity Project union. Dorrell is based in Columbus, Ohio.}

Cinema Beyond Cinemas: the 10 Best Films of 2023 / by Jeffrey St. Clair

_{^{Still from “How to Blow Up a Pipeline” via Counterpunch}}

_{Reposted from Counterpunch}

I don’t look at too many top 10 film lists anymore, but I usually check out J. Hoberman’s, if only for continuity’s sake. I’ve been reading him since the 70s when he was writing reviews for the Village Voice and I was first beginning to take movies seriously, if not as an art form, at least as an almost nightly distraction from reading Thucydides and Racine. Hoberman wrote about films I hadn’t seen and saw new things in the ones I had. This year Hoberman seems to have raised a white flag (don’t try that on the IDF), at least to half-staff. When asked by Film Comment to submit a least of his 20 favorite films, Hoberman wrote back: “Can’t endorse any of the year’s big films. Didn’t see enough of the others to list 10, let alone 20.” I felt the same way. I had no interest in seeing Barbie or Oppenheimer. There’s something obscene when a film about the making of the atom bomb racks up a billion dollars at the box office. And I didn’t seek out too many smaller films.

How can cinema compete with the images streaming on TicToc, Twitter and Instagram hourly from Ukraine, Gaza, school board meetings in Oklahoma, cop body cam footage from Memphis or city-destroying flood in Libya? Still, I did manage to come up with a list of 10 worthy films and had to trim four or five off to make the cut. As an alternative to the techno-fetishism of Oppenheimer, I recommend The Compassionate Spy, a documentary about the Los Alamos physicist Ted Hall, who leaked the design for the Fat Man plutonium bomb to the Soviet Union, under the entirely correct belief that no one country should have a monopoly on city-destroying weapons. Instead of post-feminist pretenses of Barbie, I’d recommend Kelly Reichart’s deceptively modest Showing Up, a film she directed, co-wrote and edited on a budget less than one-tenth of Barbie.

Showing Up is a meditation on the making of art in a world that no longer seems to care. Instead of dolls, Michelle Williams, perhaps the greatest working actress in American films, molds female figures out of clay and hopes they come alive (show up) out of the unpredictable fires of a kiln. Unlike the dolls of Barbie, WIlliams’s figures exist beyond commerce, in the weird world of cultural grants and boutique art shows, largely aimed at potential patrons and other artists who “show up” hoping their own work isn’t “shown up.”

Strip the title from Mstyslav Chernov’s remarkable documentary 20 Days in Mariupol and you could almost think you were viewing scenes from Gaza. Much of the film is shot from a hospital under siege or instead ambulance as they race down cratered streets, dodging sniper fire and artillery to retrieve wounded children, teens, mothers and grandmothers. The film rightly shocked American audiences when it premiered on PBS, audiences which now seem desensitized to the similar horrors in Gaza. I’ll say a final word about Chile 76, Manuela Martelli’s searing portrait of life under Pinochet’s dictatorship and the ways in which ordinary Chileans resisted in extraordinary ways–a fitting rebuke to the ghastly shadow of Kissinger cast on their country.

A Compassionate Spy
Directed by Steve James

Chile ’76
Director: Manuela Martelli

Geographies of Solitude
Directed by Jacquelyn Mills

How to Blow Up a Pipeline
By Daniel Goldhaber

King Coal
Director: Elaine McMillion Sheldon

Lakota Nation v. The United States
Directors: Jesse Short Bull and Laura Tomaselli

Pacifiction
Director: Albert Serra

Rewind and Play
Director: Alain Gomis

Showing Up
Director: Kelly Reichart

20 Days in Mariupol
Director: Mstyslav Chernov

Other films that linger in the memory: Afire (Christian Petzold), All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (Raven Jackson), Anatomy of a Fall (Justine Triet), The Eight Mountains (Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch), Fallen Leaves (Aki Kaurismäki), The Killer (David Fincher), Killers of the Flower Moon (Martin Scorsese), Past Lives (Celine Song), Youth (Spring) (Wang Bing)…Four films on the yet-to-see list: The Boy and the Heron (Hayao Miyazaki), Poor Things (Yorgos Lanthimos), Godzilla Minus One (Yamazaki) and Zone of Interest (Jonathan Glazer).

_{Jeffrey St. Clair is editor of CounterPunch. His most recent book is An Orgy of Thieves: Neoliberalism and Its Discontents (with Alexander Cockburn). He can be reached at: sitka@comcast.net or on Twitter @JeffreyStClair3.}

‘Eileen’ review: A sharp thriller that boldly deconstructs the female protagonist / by Chauncey K. Robinson

_{^{Anne Hathaway and Thomasin McKenzie in ‘Eileen’}}

_{Reposted from the People’s World}

The new film Eileen is a good kind of weird. From the setting to the main characters, the thriller creates a quirky yet unrelenting world of unstable personalities and thick tension. The intimate movie masterfully presents an unlikely heroine, exposes her complexities, tears her apart, and then builds her back up in a new and haunting way. It’s a breath of fresh air in a film genre plagued by overdone clichés and paint-by-number plot twists.

Directed by William Oldroyd, Eileen is based on the novel of the same name written by Otessa Moshfegh. Taking place in 1960s Massachusetts, the film tells the story of a young woman named Eileen (Thomasin McKenzie) who works as a secretary at a juvenile detention facility. Living what she feels is a rather dull life, she soon meets the facility’s new psychiatrist, Rebecca (Anne Hathaway), who is glamorous and sophisticated. They strike up a friendship that eventually draws them into dangerous new territory.

What’s most compelling about Eileen is how, ultimately, it’s a story about how an oppressive society can be so suppressive to women as to drive them to various degrees of darkness. No one is precisely an upstanding character in the film. Some are even downright despicable to a degree. Still, in regards to the women, it’s clear that each of the paths they take is greatly influenced by the claustrophobic boxes of expectations that have been placed upon them in a patriarchal society.

Eileen is a young woman of so-called marrying age who is single, working in a prison as she cares for her alcoholic and verbally abusive father. It’s a thankless life as she’s been made to take on the role of caregiver since her mother passed away and her sister married and moved out. Eileen often escapes within her mind, thinking out mental (sometimes violent) scenarios that she doesn’t yet dare to carry out in real life. She’s not the stereotypical femme fatale but also not completely naïve and innocent. She exists in this grey area of awakening.

Eileen is sexual. She has desires, wants, and needs. It’s in this longing that she begins to find herself, even when it tiptoes in the arena of the taboo. Most human beings are complex, just like Eileen, yet far too often, female characters in media are relegated to neat boxes of either/or. The film boldly pushes against this and benefits significantly from this rebellious act.

Thomasin McKenzie displays all of these complexities within Eileen in a natural and gripping way. Even in some of the character’s more morally questionable moments, McKenzie performs with such a compelling vulnerability that the audience has no choice but to continue rooting for her. Her performance is complimented perfectly with the equally captivating portrayal of Eileen’s new obsession—Rebecca—played by Anne Hathaway.

Rebecca is a professional unmarried woman in a male-dominated world. Her confidence and sex appeal immediately draw Eileen in as the younger girl longs for something different than her current life. Together, they walk down a dark path that ends up being an exploration of self-realization and a condemnation of a society that often places women in impossible situations.

Hathaway delivers an alluring and layered performance. Her Rebecca is refined, but there’s something slightly fractured underneath her put-together facade. Hathaway manages to allow us a glimpse into those cracks honestly. She’s another grey character that some will feel compelled to place into the hero or villain category, but it can be argued that she exists in both.

Other themes explored deal with the corruption of authoritative figures and the confines of marriage and motherhood for women. Several scenes in the film will no doubt be uncomfortable, perhaps even triggering, for viewers. Thankfully, none of the heavy topics feel forced or gratuitous. The film never overstays its welcome, coming in at 97 minutes, giving just enough for audiences to mull over without being overwhelmed.

Since Eileen is marketed as a psychological thriller, some will watch it with certain expectations for its pacing and central plot. The film subverts many of these expectations and walks its own path. This subversion makes for a unique story that will have viewers thinking about the characters—and the ending—long after the credits have rolled.

_{Eileen will be released in theaters on December 1, 2023}

_{Chauncey K. Robinson is an award winning journalist and film critic. Born and raised in Newark, New Jersey, she has a strong love for storytelling and history. She believes narrative greatly influences the way we see the world, which is why she’s all about dissecting and analyzing stories and culture to help inform and empower the people.}

‘Always, Lola’ review: Mental health and human connection take center stage in powerful drama / by Chauncey K. Robinson

_{^{Corrinne Mica and Roxy Striar in Always, Lola (2022) | via IMDb}}

_{Reposted from the People’s World}

According to a recent report by Mental Health America(MHA)—the leading national nonprofit dedicated to the promotion of mental health—in 2019-2020, 20.78% of adults were experiencing a mental illness. That is equivalent to over 50 million Americans. Yet, all too often, the state of treatment for mental health is lacking and stigmatized.

The new independent feature, Always, Lola, seemingly aims to bring this issue to the forefront in a humanizing and intimate way. Through a mixture of drama and light-hearted comedy, audiences are taken on a journey within a friend group plagued by guilt, hardship, and trauma. In the end, we are treated to a message of hope, resilience, and a call for the de-stigmatization of mental illness. It is a worthy endeavor wrapped in an entertaining package.

Written and directed by Jeffrey Crane Graham, the film tells the story of a small group of young college-bound individuals all connected through their friendship with the free-spirited and rebellious Lola. Every year the friend group gathers for Lola’s birthday at a local campground. There, they engage in geocaching (a kind of treasure-hunting game) in the forest where Lola has hidden various items representing her relationship with each of them. Things take a darker turn when tragedy strikes the group, leaving them in a state of grief as they attempt to go through with their annual tradition.

The idea of sitting through an hour and twenty-seven minutes of what, on paper, sounds like a group therapy session, may throw some viewers off initially. Fortunately for us, director Graham manages to create an inviting and vibrant atmosphere that will most likely keep the audience engaged and invested. A good chunk of that has to do with, in no small part, to the cast itself.

In a story where many of the characters are going through their trials and tribulations, it can be a real balancing act to make a majority of them interesting and likable—or even tolerable. This of course is key to a story like this. There are no outlandish plot points to distract us from the characters if they fall short. This is a character-heavy film, where if the audience doesn’t feel connected to at least one of the individuals then it will be a slog to get through. This critic is happy to report that viewers will no doubt feel a good amount of relatability to this rag-tag group of buddies.

The entire cast has compelling chemistry with one other. Roxy Striar, who plays the pivotal role of Lola, does a fine job as the heart of the film. More importantly, each of these characters represents the type of person anyone in the audience could know. What this does is highlight the fact that mental illness doesn’t have a particular look or tell.

Smaller, yet just as interesting themes, are also touched upon throughout the film. These include the influence of social media on mental health, and societal pressures put on young people to live up to certain antiquated notions of success.

Always, Lola shines a light on the issue of mental illness plaguing so many. To refer back to the MHA study: One in ten youth in the United States is experiencing depression that severely impairs their ability to function at school, work, or at home. Over half (54.7%) of adults with a mental illness do not receive treatment. This totals over 28 million individuals. Nearly 42% of adults with a mental illness reported they were unable to receive necessary care because they could not afford it. 10.8% (over 5.5 million) of adults with a mental illness are uninsured.

For lack of a better word, these statistics are depressing. Yet, films like Always, Lola show us the power of cinema and story-telling in bringing relevant issues to the general public. The movie isn’t perfect—no film usually is—as there are a few comedic bits that feel misplaced and some melodramatic moments that feel a little too convenient. Those shortcomings are easy to ignore as the film shows its strength in not attempting to wrap up everything in a neat little bow at the end. It recognizes the nuance of the issue, along with the characters, and doesn’t force the most important emotional moments. This is when the film feels its most honest.

Overall, Always, Lola is a movie worth watching if you’re looking for a smaller film with a big heart. Especially one that puts a relevant topic center stage in an approachable and engrossing way.

_{Always, Lola will be available worldwide on digital November 28, 2023. Available platforms can be found here}

Films of, by, and for the Palestinian people at Toronto International Film Festival / by Bill Meyer

_{^{Muhammad Abed El Rahman (left) and Saleh Bakri in ‘The Teacher’ | Cocoon Films}}

_{Reposted from the People’s World}

TORONTO—The famed Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) just completed its 48th year, and despite the absence of some of its special guests affected by the actors’ and writers’ strikes, TIFF seems to be recovering soundly after the pandemic that decimated the film festival circuit for years.

Presenting hundreds of top-quality films from every corner of the world, shown to one of the largest film festival audiences, while featuring in most cases post-discussions with filmmakers and actors, makes this one of the most thrilling cinematic experiences in the film world.

As one of the few credentialed press that has attended the festival from its very beginning, I can attest to the power and influence films have on people’s lives, especially documentaries and world cinema that allow viewers to experience events and places, present and past, that few will ever visit in their lifetime.

On a personal note, it has inspired my wife and me, along with many of our friends, to gain knowledge of and travel to places we learned about in film. Israel and Palestine are destinations that have become a commitment for life, and much of our determination to lend support to the struggle there has been fueled by the many films we’ve seen that were created by committed artists.

Tragically, Gaza is in the news again. The whole world can witness the continual suffering of the Palestinian people, and consequently all Israelis.

It’s in the world of cinema where writers, filmmakers, and artists of all type, bravely risk their lives to document the horrific realities and portray the stories that many in the West will never experience otherwise. Over the decades, TIFF has presented unforgettable films that bring to life the Palestinians’ struggle to free themselves from Israel’s illegal occupation while living in a vicious state of apartheid.

Gaza has been described as the largest open-air prison in the world, 141 square miles packed with the densest population in the world, where the actual governing State of Israel has total control of all air, land, and sea entrances and exits, forbidding even one airport, or seaport. And you can add to that the thousands of Palestinians in Israeli prisons locked up for demanding to free themselves from this oppressive occupation.

This year, TIFF once again continues to provide memorable films about the Palestinian struggle. British Palestinian director Farah Nabulsi has quickly moved on from her Oscar-nominated short, The Present, to her riveting first feature, The Teacher, which had its world premiere at TIFF.

**_{^{Palestinian director Farah Nabulsi. | AP}}**

Shot in Nablus in the Occupied Territories, the story contains many of the real challenges Palestinians are forced to endure daily. The film stars Saleh Bakri, son of the famed Palestinian director/actor Mohammed Bakri, who started his career in Costa-Gavras’ 1983 groundbreaking drama Hanna K, where Jill Clayburgh plays a lawyer defending a young Palestinian destined for prison.

Here Saleh plays a teacher, mentor, and father who is devastated by the loss of his son and transfers his energies to two of his most promising students, brothers Adam and Yacoub. He is conflicted by his commitment to political resistance and his emotional support for his beloved students while trying to balance a budding romance with a British social worker (Imogen Poots) who’s in town to help deal with the psychological traumas affecting young students.

In an all-too-common event in Palestine, Adam and Yacoub’s family home is suddenly demolished by Israeli bulldozers without warning, as they stand watching their history being wiped out. Soon after, violent settlers attacked the village to burn down their olive trees, the lifeblood of many Palestinian communities.

In a desperate rage of fury, they attempt to stop them, and Yacoub gets murdered by a settler. Adam seeks revenge while his teacher tries to stop him. The story gets more involved in the tragic realities that Palestinians face daily. This is a deeply moving and well-made first feature film that reflects the headlines screaming from today’s news media about Gaza.

The actors offer a passionate and convincing depiction of the traumas they are forced to endure daily. The film has been bought by Front Row Entertainment and will be available on Netflix as early as January 2024.

One of the most important tasks of activism in support of the Palestinian struggle is to arm ourselves with truth and historical facts. Western media propaganda fails to portray a full and accurate picture with its one-sided bias towards Israel. The brilliant physicist Stephen Hawking noted, “The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance…it is the illusion of knowledge.”

Here are a few recommended films about Palestine that have premiered at TIFF over the years, and offer the missing facts most of us are prevented from knowing.

They are all—except for the last one—available to watch for free online:

_{Tears of Gaza (2010), directed by Norwegian Vibeke Løkkeberg, and one of the most powerful and moving films beyond belief. It is an exhausting emotional experience.}

_{On the Side of the Road (2013). Lia Tarachansky, an Israeli filmmaker from the USSR, presents an early and strong confirmation about Israel’s long-planned attempts at genocide against the Palestinian people.}

_{Gaza Fights for Freedom (2019). Famed journalist Abby Martin produced and directed this unforgettable gut-wrenching documentation of the previous devastating war in Gaza.}

_{Occupation 101 (2006) is loaded with facts and thought-provoking interviews with dozens of informed sources.}

_{Killing Gaza (2018) Journalist/author Max Blumenthal not only documents the 2014 Israeli war on Gaza, but provides a list of war crimes committed by the Israeli military (this one has a $3 rental).}

_{Bill Meyer writes movie reviews for People’s World, often from film festivals. He is a keyboardist at Bill Meyer Music and a current member of the Detroit Federation of Musicians. He lives in Hamtramck, Michigan.}

‘Lakota Nation vs. United States’: Acclaimed Indigenous film screened at Nashville’s Belcourt Theater / by Albert Bender

_{^{Courtesy IFC Films}}

_{People’s World | 09.13.2023}

In the United States’ government’s long record of broken treaties, land theft, and genocide, the taking of the Black Hills ranks as perhaps as one of the most disgraceful examples of imperial aggression against an Indigenous people.

This is not just a historical episode; it is ongoing to this very day. The magnificently illuminated and stunningly stellar documentary film Lakota Nation vs. United States tells the story. It was screened at the Belcourt Theater in Nashville from Sept. 1 to 6.

The film was picked up for the Belcourt by Allison Inman, Director of Education and Engagements at the theather, who saw it at the Milwaukee Film Festival in April of this year.

Some information on the theater is in order first of all. The Belcourt is a unique Nashville institution with a historic past and deep community ties. It is a non-profit cultural facility dedicated to presenting the most notable of independent, documentary, world, repertory, and classic cinema. The Belcourt believes in “the power of film.”

The opening night program for this documentary began with a land acknowledgement given by Annabelle Littlejohn-Bailey, American Samoan and President of the Indigenous Scholars Organization of Vanderbilt University.

Lakota Nation vs. United States kicked off the Doc Spotlight Series for the fall at the Belcourt. The two-hour documentary chronicled the perfidious treatment of the Lakota people by the federal government. Underlying the brazen theft of the sacred Black Hills was the drive of imperial greed for the resources, primarily gold, beneath the hallowed earth there, which is regarded with reverence by the Lakota people.

The documentary, written and directed by celebrated Lakota poet Layli Long Soldier and co-directed by Jesse Short Bull, is a resounding herald to the never-ending resistance of the Native people who hold the Black Hills as a source of resonating identity and existence.

A historical perspective will give the uninitiated viewer a greater appreciation of this heroic struggle by the Lakota over the decades in the face-off against the most powerful and predatory enemy ever to trod the earth, the United States government.

The background to the seizure of the Black Hills is the violation of the Fort Laramie Treaty of 1868, which promised that the Great Sioux Reservation, including the Black Hills, would be “set apart for the absolute and undisturbed use and occupation of the Indians,” meaning, of course, the Lakota. The treaty ended the conflict known as “Red Cloud’s War,” in which Indigenous forces defeated the U.S. military.

Following another U.S. defeat in June 1876 at the Battle of the Little Horn and the subsequent military reversal of the Lakota and their allies, the U.S. government imposed the Act of February 28, 1877, which stopped all food rations to the Lakota until they ceded the Black Hills to the United States.

This infamous legislation, also termed the “Sell or Starve Act,” was a direct breach of the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty and became and remains the main focal point of legal contention over possession of the Black Hills. This is an ongoing and hideous cardinal treaty violation largely unparalleled in the odious U.S. history of treaty-breaking.

In June 1979, the U.S. Court of Claims ruled that the 1877 Act that seized the Black Hills was in violation of the Fifth Amendment prohibition on taking property without just compensation (which also implicitly meant that the taking was in violation of the Treaty of 1868). Money was awarded which the Lakota refused to accept, because acceptance would mean termination of the claim that the Black Hills be returned to the Lakota. The United States appealed the Court of Claims decision to the U.S. Supreme Court.

In March 1980, the Supreme Court ruled, in United States v. Sioux Nation of Indians, that just compensation had not been paid for the taking of the land and ordered that such compensation “be paid.” The Lakota again refused the money and uncompromisingly demanded the return of the Black Hills to tribal jurisdiction.

But back to the film. It is filled with historical material, contemporary footage, and interviews with Indigenous leaders (some of whom I recalled from being at the Standing Rock protests in 2016). It is an inspiring reminder that the struggle for Indigenous liberation continues gloriously, courageously, and brilliantly.

The film was followed by a panel discussion moderated by Vanderbilt University Professor of Native American Law Dan Sharfstein and panelists from the Indigenous Scholars Organization of Vanderbilt University, including Lauren Bishop, a member of the Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma; Keanani Afu, Hawaiian and Tongan; and this writer.

This magnificent film is a must-see for all who get the chance.

_{We hope you appreciated this article. At People’s World, we believe news and information should be free and accessible to all, but we need your help. Our journalism is free of corporate influence and paywalls because we are totally reader-supported. Only you, our readers and supporters, make this possible. If you enjoy reading People’s World and the stories we bring you, please support our work by donating or becoming a monthly sustainer today. Thank you!}

_{Albert Bender is a Cherokee activist, historian, political columnist, and freelance reporter for Native and Non-Native publications. He is currently writing a legal treatise on Native American sovereignty and working on a book on the war crimes committed by the U.S. against the Maya people in the Guatemalan civil war He is a consulting attorney on Indigenous sovereignty, land restoration, and Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) issues and a former staff attorney with Legal Services of Eastern Oklahoma (LSEO) in Muskogee, Okla.}

Anarchism vs. Marxism: The politics of Boots Riley’s ‘I’m a Virgo’ / by Taylor Dorrell

_{^{Kara Young, left, and Jharrel Jerome, third, as Jones and Cootie in ‘I’m a Virgo.’ | Amazon Prime Video}}

_{Originally published in the People’s World on August 10, 2023}

Boots Riley’s Amazon Prime Video series I’m A Virgo has naturally been cast as a coming-of-age story. It is, of course, a story about an individual ostracized by society—main character Cootie, a 13-foot-tall, 19-year-old Black man in Oakland, leaves the isolation of his home for the first time. But there is also a political narrative in the program that exposes differing methods of political action and mobilization in class struggle. It’s a pressing theme for Riley, a self-described communist.

In his 2018 film, Sorry to Bother You, the main character Cassius battles the prospect of becoming a capitalist in opposition to his unionizing co-workers. In I’m a Virgo, the main character Cootie is engaged in a battle primarily of methodology and ideology against multiple forces—the police, the media, a private energy company, and a religious cult.

His coming into the world for the first time pushes him toward strategies that could be construed as short-term in expectations, knee-jerk in their quick reactions, and hyper-localized in scope. This is set up in contrast to the methods of his friend Jones, who has a longer-term perspective rooted in experience of mass organizing and political struggle.

Theirs is a debate that has been most regularly revisited in history, most notably in the conflict between the two ideologies of anarchism and Marxism. It’s a dispute that continues to rage today.

How to blow up a movement

In the crescendo of I’m A Virgo, Cootie is on the run. After a season’s worth of growth and “coming of age,” he’s determined to go against the advice of his friend Jones and engage in direct action. To stop the constant electricity blackouts plaguing the Bay Area, Cootie devises a plan to break into the power company’s facilities and destroy the “regulator,” the mechanism which triggers the blackouts and regulates the energy flowing out to paying customers.

But once they return home from their act of industrial sabotage, the pair witness something that shatters their spirits: another blackout. The utility company, with all of its capital and influence, simply replaced the regulator. Nobody directly benefited from the flimsy plan, which had no long-term strategy or discipline. No one’s material conditions were improved; the blackouts continued unhindered.

This kind of spontaneous action is becoming increasingly attractive to some members of my generation who feel they have nothing to lose. Radicalized youth in the age of climate disaster have little patience for debates concerning methodology and ideology. Plagued by a planet on fire, the sluggishness and fruitlessness of liberalism and the two-party system has pushed many on the left either into utopian idealism or nearsighted fragmented spurts of localized direct action. Sometimes, it’s both.

A film like How to Blow Up a Pipeline (2022), based on the book by the same name, is a testament to this rage. The primary focus of the film was the development and execution of a plan to destroy a section of pipeline by a group of environmental activists. The climate vigilantes are certain that they’ve targeted a strategic location and that the disruption will cause gas prices to skyrocket. They believe this will spark copycat actions around the world, somehow coercing oil corporations to abandon fossil fuels, their most profitable commodity. The film ends with another group, inspired by the main characters’ action, blowing up a yacht. Fossil fuel extraction, meanwhile, carries on.

Back in I’m a Virgo, after the regulator plan fails, Jones tells Cootie, “I told you that Band Aid shit won’t work!” Cootie, at a loss, responds, “I just thought I could give people inspiration to fight.” He believed it would “like, show ‘em we have power.”

Jones points to a picket line across the street. “We’re shutting shit down at the source of power,” she says in reference to a strike wave growing across the U.S. One can imagine an alternative ending to How to Blow Up a Pipeline where Jones delivers those same lines, not to deter the actions, but to expose a lack of strategy. “It’s not just about changing shit,” Jones says, “it’s how we change it.”

Proudhon to Catalonia

The debates between anarchism and Marxism have spanned two centuries. In the 19th century, the “father of anarchism,” Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, was trashed as a “petty-bourgeois” philosopher by Karl Marx in his book The Poverty of Philosophy (1847).

Friedrich Engels criticized the anarchist Mikhail Bakunin for his narrow emphasis on the state as the chief evil and for his refusal to engage in political struggle. Engels’ article, “On Authority,” is a brief but fatal blow to anarchists, who contradictorily call for revolution while expressing contempt for all forms of hierarchy and authority. As Engels reminded them, “a revolution is certainly the most authoritarian thing there is.”

In the 20th century, the debate played out amidst actual revolutions and over the character of real-world revolutionary governments. V.I. Lenin wrote in 1905 that anarchists’ applications to participate in the Soviets of Workers’ and Peasants’ Deputies would be denied because anarchists didn’t believe in political struggle to begin with, therefore their inclusion in the alliance would result in counterproductive debates over the merits of the very existence of the organization.

Lenin refuted their philosophy as one, not of the future of society, but of the “present and even the past of that society.” He dismissed anarchism as a trend that sought to establish isolated bubbles within capitalism and romanticized the lifestyle of feudal and other pre-industrial class relations.

Anarchism and Marxism might share the goal of a stateless society, but they differ on what the term might mean and how we get there. Communists often advocate for strategies tailored to particular social, political, and economic situations. In Russia, for example, that entailed participating in unions, mass movements, and even reactionary parliamentary politics until a revolution became inevitable.

Anarchism is not as easy to pin down. Anarchists denounce all forms of “the state” and “hierarchy,” instead emphasizing the individual and the spontaneous revolutionary event, often opposing the revolutionary process. “The anarchist rejects any rule and any person or institution that endeavors to enforce it,” Corrine Jacker wrote in her book, The Blag Flag of Anarchism, “because rules endeavor to restrict an individual’s freedom.”

_{^{An anarchist symbol is spray-painted on the headquarters of the Democratic Party of Oregon after protesters carrying anti-Biden and anti-police signs marched in the streets on Jan. 20, 2021, in Portland, Ore. | Beth Nakamura / The Oregonian via AP}}

But anarchism wasn’t always a brick wall blocking the progressive ideological development of activists. For many in the 20th century, anarchism was their pipeline into Marxism. “The poetry, the strong passionate and naive ideology of that movement appealed to a literary adolescent,” the Communist writer Mike Gold reflected. Numerous union activists in the U.S. who came from more anarchist-leaning backgrounds—figures like Elizabeth Gurley Flynn and Big Bill Haywood—eventually joined the Communist Party, helping to build mass movements and abandoning anarchism, which they came to see as a contradictory philosophy.

There are many historical cases of the messes anarchism’s contradictions can lead to. In the leadup to the Spanish Civil War of the 1930s, anarchists rightfully opposed fascism, but they also originally opposed the democratic Spanish Republic and the Popular Front against fascism. As late as two months into the Civil War, anarchists refused to officially endorse the Popular Front or endorse fighting Franco.

In May 1937, during a fascist offensive, anarcho-Trotskyists (FAI-POUM) actually attempted to overthrow the Popular Front government of Catalonia, staging a counter-revolution that ultimately benefitted the fascists. In Ken Loach’s film Land and Freedom (1995), through an ahistorical revisionist lens, the Trotskyists of the POUM (Workers’ Party of Marxist Unifications) are actually represented as the protagonists and the Popular Front, with its Communist section, is portrayed as the bad guys. Anarchist trade union supporter Daniel Guérin is seen blaming the Communists for the fascist victory.

Narratives of left history have been monopolized by anti-Communist leftists in recent decades. Whereas many have simply detached or distanced themselves from socialism and communism, figures like Noam Chomsky and the late David Graeber instead intentionally obscure the definition of socialism and communism. They craft their own version, painting all existing socialist countries past and present as distortions of “true” socialism.

Their definition of socialism—that is, idealist notions existing solely in their imagination and in isolated microscopic bubbles within capitalist countries—is seen as the only valid one.

Michael Parenti called these individuals the “pure socialists,” those who support socialist revolutions until those revolutions actually succeed, who fetishize the revolutionary event and then get bored with the revolutionary process of actually building socialism.

Marxist Gil Green, who was a leader of the Young Communist League in the U.S. during those years, wrote, “Whenever a setback or defeat takes place, there are some who rush to blame the Communists, but when revolutions succeed…the Communists are damned by the same people for taking state power.”

The poverty of new radicalism

Today’s increased interest in differing ideologies among young leftists is not dissimilar from the trend that emerged in the late 1960s known as the “New Left,” when segments of the student movement and other radical groups pushed anarchism as an alternative to Marxism and what they derided as the “Old Left.”

*_{Courtesy of International Publishers}*

In Green’s 1971 book, The New Radicalism: Anarchist or Marxist?, he emphasizes the importance of America’s youth breaking with liberal illusions on the one hand, but on the other, he criticizes the failure of many radical youth to provide a coherent effective alternative. “Revolutionary rhetoric,” he argued, “has become a substitute for strategy and tactics and a cover-up for frustrations and failures.”

Green saw a lack of perspective in the various movements of the time, especially among the anarchist trends, for whom “the time element is reduced to the immediate moment, when there is no confidence that a mass movement of working people can be built,” and when the dire alternatives seemed to be either “drop out or to seek martyrdom.”

Green urged these movements to engage in arenas they had fundamentally opposed or, due to the middle-class nature of much of the student movement, never had a firm relationship with—particularly labor and organized politics. (Riley himself highlighted parallels today to the labor movement in the 1970s).

In recent years, there’s been a wave of films criticizing capitalism, but they tend to offer no solutions—The Florida Project (2017), Roma (2018), Parasite (2019), Minari (2020), etc. But today, with films like Sorry to Bother You and How to Blow Up a Pipeline, a debate is taking place around strategies for action—it’s the argument we see Cootie and Jones have.

Two streams of thought and methodology—anarchism and Marxism—are again fighting it out. The abstract notion of revolution might be an agreed upon goal, but how to get there and what happens the day after remain contentious topics.

Mike Gold reflected on how he’d come to agree with Lenin after the idealism of his anarchist past. He said he arrived at an understanding of the “necessary historical steps” required to build socialism. He warned against being “mystic” and individualistic, neglecting the “daily class struggle.”

Gold advised, “To be mystic about [the revolution] means admitting it is only a dream, and can never be realized.”

_{We hope you appreciated this article. At People’s World, we believe news and information should be free and accessible to all, but we need your help. Our journalism is free of corporate influence and paywalls because we are totally reader-supported. Only you, our readers and supporters, make this possible. If you enjoy reading People’s World and the stories we bring you, please support our work by donating or becoming a monthly sustainer today. Thank you!}

_{Taylor Dorrell is a journalist, essayist, great lakes megaregionalist, and photo person based in Ohio. He is a contributing writer at the Cleveland Review of Books, a reporter at the Columbus Free Press, and a member of the National Writers Union.}

‘Bobi Wine: The People’s President’ powerful exploration of Ugandan democracy and resistance / by Chauncey K. Robinson

_{^{Bobi Wine on top of a vehicle during the 2021 presidential campaigns as he solicited for support in Nakaseke, Central Uganda, on Nov. 18, 2020. | Photo credit: Lookman Kampala}}

_{Originally published in the People’s World on August 2, 2023}

The powerful new documentary Bobi Wine: The People’s President uses former pop star turned politician Bobi Wine as a means to showcase the fight for democracy in the African country of Uganda. It is through his struggle for some semblance of a free and fair election in his home country that viewers are treated to a deeper understanding of what the people of Uganda are currently going through—and the connection it has to everyone around the world.

A warning: The film isn’t an easy watch, as moments of unrelenting brutality and violence are interwoven through glimmers of hope and resilience. Yet, it is necessary viewing, as the subject matter it covers is relevant not only for the people of Uganda but for those in every country where there is a threat of authoritarian maneuvers to stifle freedom.

Filmmakers Moses Bwayo and Christopher Sharp follow the influential political figure Bobi Wine—born Robert Kyagulanyi Ssentamu—from his time as a renowned musician to his foray into the political scene of Uganda. Wine was born in what is known as the slums of Kampala, and he would use his eventual success as a music artist to become a member of the Ugandan parliament. There he would eventually become an opposition leader, standing against the oppressive regime led by current President Yoweri Museveni.

The majority of the film follows Wine and his supporters challenging Museveni’s decades-long presidency. They first do this by campaigning against Museveni’s attempt to change the country’s constitutional presidential age limits, and eventually in the so-called “scientific” general elections of 2021, where Wine would challenge Museveni for the presidency. Throughout, we are not only treated to Wine’s unrelenting hope for a better Uganda but also that of his wife and partner Barbie, their children, and the many activists around him and his family.

In order to understand the stakes of the film, it’s important to put into perspective what’s currently happening politically in Uganda. Museveni has been in power since 1986. His regime has been described by scholars as authoritarian and autocratic—essentially a system governed by one person in power. In the numerous elections held since Museveni has taken office, there have been accusations of voter suppression and a lack of transparency when it comes to the results—all of which have coincidently seen Museveni as the victor.

In 2017, Museveni signed the 2018 Age Limit Bill into law, which effectively removed presidential age limit caps. Prior to this, people above 75 and those below 35 years of age were not allowed to run for president. The passing of the 2018 bill was convenient for Museveni, as he was reaching the age limit—he’s currently 78—thus allowing him to continue staking a claim on the highest political seat in the country. This was despite the many protests of thousands in Uganda who opposed the constitutional change, Bobi Wine amongst them.

Museveni’s regime is marked by extreme violence on the part of the police and military against those who speak out against his authority. It is also a government that has led the way in legislation endangering the lives of those belonging to the LGBTQ community. In May of this year, Uganda’s parliament passed one of the world’s strictest anti-LGBTQ bills. The Anti-Homosexuality Act of 2023 includes long jail terms and the death penalty for those caught engaging in “aggravated homosexuality” and other so-called offenses. Museveni has gone on record saying that homosexuality is a “danger to the procreation of [the] human race.” He has also expressed the opinion that Western nations are “trying to impose their practices [of LGBTQ acceptance] on other people.”

What we witness in the documentary is that Museveni’s oppressive sentiments are not limited to only those in the LGBTQ community, but anyone whom he deems as being against his values and government. This is what Wine, Barbie, and their supporters are up against, and the fight is a raw and emotionally taxing one.

Unlike a polished Hollywood movie steeped in fiction, there is no neat bow to tie up the story in Bobi Wine. The resistance fighter uses his music to denounce the dictatorial regime and support his life mission to defend the oppressed and the voiceless people of Uganda. This means taking on the country’s police and military, which are not afraid to use violence and torture to intimidate and silence him and his supporters. As you watch, you want Wine to emerge victorious in the clearly rigged election, but you know it isn’t meant to be.

The filmmakers make it clear that this fight for democracy goes beyond Wine. His music and courage to be the face of the resistance have inspired a nation of primarily young people to get involved and speak up. It is important to note that Uganda has the second youngest population in the world. More than three-quarters (78%) of its citizens are under the age of 35. This youthful population is projected to double in the next 25 years. This is also noted in the film, as many of the young people identify with Wine’s music. They see themselves more in the young Wine than the older and authoritarian Museveni.

The scenes of Wine standing on top of cars as a sea of supporters surround him are powerful—not so much because of it happening to Wine, but more so because we see people brave enough to publicly support someone opposing a regime known to arrest and abduct detractors. This is also something touched on in the film, as demonstrators are arrested, abducted, and in some cases shot dead on the streets of Uganda.

Yet, still, the crowds come out. Not simply for Wine, but for the ideas of democracy and liberation they believe he embodies. This is what is important to focus on, as one can get lost in the heavy moments of violence scattered throughout the documentary. The film is heavy, but it is far from depressing. It is also not an issue isolated to Uganda alone.

*_{^{Bobi Wine in a police arrest van after he was arrested in Luuka district, Eastern Uganda. Nov. 18, 2020. | Photo credit: Lookman Kampala}}*

Uganda may have passed some of the strictest anti-LGBTQ legislation, but it is not the only country where such laws exist or could soon pass. According to GLAAD (formerly the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) and the LGBTQ+ Victory Institute, more than 500 pieces of anti-LGBTQ legislation have been introduced in state legislatures across the U.S. this year. Also, just as the Uganda state seemingly wishes to do away with free and just elections, right here in the U.S. we also face a number of political figures who never hesitate to employ voter suppression tactics in order to control the outcome of future elections.

It can be easy to look at documentaries that focus on affairs in countries outside your own and feel removed. Yet, the issues presented in Bobi Wine do not exist in a vacuum.

This is especially true when one realizes that the United States government invests nearly $1 billion annually in aid to Uganda. Much of this funding no doubt ends up in the hands of Museveni and his backers. On a recent panel after a screening of the film, Wine noted this investment and expressed his wish that people in the U.S. would help by speaking out and questioning where their money goes. “Watch this [film], watch the suffering of the people in Uganda,” he urged. “The American taxpayers are paying for our oppression; don’t sponsor our oppressors.”

This sentiment drives home the power of storytelling and just how influential it can be in changing public sentiment and involvement. The documentary has intimate moments that help us understand the psyche of people willing to risk their lives for what they believe will be a better world. It also treats viewers to the larger-than-life spirit of the thousands of people in Uganda who have dared to demand true democracy.

Many outside of Uganda may not usually pay as close attention to the events happening there, but this film aims to change that. It’s definitely a must-watch.

_{Bobi Wine: The People’s President is currently playing in select theaters. Ticket information can be found}_here_.