What happened to Doc-a-Day? It's been more than a week since my last post. So soon after starting my challenge, I've run into a snag: I can't always work and blog at the same time. The next two months or so are going to be a blur of travelling, shooting, screening and writing. The beast of television must be fed. I'll be lucky if I manage a doc a week.
Nevertheless, I do have a film to discuss: The Man Who Crossed the Sahara, by Montreal filmmaker Korbett Matthews, which played at Hot Docs and is having its television premiere on Bravo! in a couple of weeks.
The Man is Frank Cole, a Canadian filmmaker recognized by the Guinness Book of World Records for being the only person to make a solo crossing of the Sahara. Cole documented his journey with a Bolex camera, spent the next ten years trying to finish the film, and then headed back to the Sahara to try another, even longer, solo crossing. This time his luck ran out, and he was murdered by bandits, just 70 km from the start of his journey.
The Man Who Crossed the Sahara tells Cole's story and tries to get at the mystery of why he was the weird, death-obsessed dude that he was.
The challenge in making a film like this is to help the audience connect with a subject who is a) not there to speak for himself, and b) largely unknown. As a viewer, why should I care about this guy? Does the film raise questions for me that I want to see answered? Is there something in the film that I can connect with? Does the film address any universal concerns or themes?
To me, this film doesn't do anything of the sort. It fails to find any answers or to get beneath the surface of Cole's character. And worse, it fails to make me see why Cole is compelling to the filmmaker himself.
On the surface, The Man Who Crossed the Sahara is certainly beautiful: great footage of the desert, a hypnotic soundtrack. But it's not engaging. It's not clear to me why Frank Cole is interesting, why he's worth more than an honourable mention in the Darwin Awards. The scenes from his early films certainly don't give any clues - the clips from A Life and The Mountenays just look amateurish. Life Without Death, his film about his successful Sahara crossing, appears to be more compelling, but there's something artificial and oddly pathetic about a documentary where a guy sets up a camera and then jumps in front of it to act out a scene.
So if it's not Cole's filmmaking, then what can draw us in? It's not his relationship with his family - his parents are stoic Anglos who add some unspoken emotion but no psychological insight. His best friend and some of his artistic collaborators tell a few stories about him, someone makes an oblique reference to some kind of extreme sexual tastes, but there's no psychological probing, no real insight or emotional connection, no controversy, no dialogue. Are his friends and family still trying to figure out why he did what he did? Or are they simply telling a well-practiced tale about a guy who was obsessed with death? There is no emotional arc to this film, it's a one-note story. We are to take it on the filmmaker's word that Cole was interesting, and then we are led down a linear path from the first signs of his death obsession to his violent end in the Sahara.
The kindest thing I can say is that The Man Who Crossed the Sahara is a forbidding film - it does not invite the viewer in. But really, I would go further. It's a film that doesn't know what it's about, that does not ask any hard questions or prove any theme. It's not that it leaves questions unanswered; it doesn't know what questions to ask.
There is one clip that illustrates the central problem with this film: one of Cole's filmmaking pals says, "The fact that he made films is proof to me that he was human." Really? To me, that's proof of nothing at all. And yet Matthews seems to take this as the gospel truth. As a young filmmaker, does he feel that his craft is proof of his own humanity? What's the connection he feels with Cole? From the film, it's impossible to tell. Maybe that's the emptiness at the centre of this film.
22 comments:
I saw the documentary myself and quite liked it. I guess everyone is different.
What do you expect from someone who acts like the god of documentary and then hides their name?
Thanks for tearing the film apart and in the process, myself. I really appreciate your kind words.
Seeing how you loved the film so much I would like to offer you a signed dvd copy of the film for your own collection.
Sincerely yours,
Korbett
korb@7th-embassy.ca
Winston, I'm going to respond to all your comments here.
First, take a valium. What do you think this is, the New York Times? I have news for you: it's a blog. You think I'm "unprofessional"? An unprofessional what? An unprofessional blogger?
Want professional? I draw your attention to the Globe and Mail's Hot Docs guide: http://tinyurl.com/6oko8m
But you probably think the Globe's review of The Man Who Crossed the Sahara is cruel and pompous, too. (The Globe didn't review Wild Blue Yonder.)
The problem with the documentary community is that everyone is thin-skinned and no one is honest enough to say anything when a film is just plain bad. That is, they don't say anything in public, they just whisper behind the director's back. And then no one is challenged to become better, everyone just keeps on making the same old crap, and mediocrity is reinforced.
Yes, I prefer to stay anonymous. I have to make a living in this industry. You think I'm going to risk offending some thin-skinned producer whom I might later ask for a job, or who might become a commissioning editor?
As for how many films I've made, I can assure you I've made more than you have. I don't see any Winston Grubers on IMDb.
Cruel? This blog isn't cruel. Cruel is lying to someone that they've made a good film when you actually think their work is crap, and then talking behind their back. Face it - we all do it. It's the Canadian way. At least here you can read what someone really thinks.
I am actually curious to seeing some of your films doc.
Could you give me a title?
Korbett
I don't understand the comments--Dr. Doc reviewed the film, found it lacking, and said so. Just because someone shot a lot of footage and assembled it doesn't make the film any good.
I think I liked the good old days when cameras were heavy and film expensive, so that making a film was a real commitment to storytelling and quality of production, rather than just following someone around with a cheap 3 chip camera.
This film is problematic because it sets the audience up for a profound statement--a personal Lawrence of Arabia, and gives as much insight as a guy in a sandbox. Posthumous works are often difficult to judge, and then there's the whole "don't speak ill of the dead" thing.
i appreciate your honest and insightful comments. keep it up! it's great to see someone who really analyzes a doc in depth (both in craft and story) -- and criticizes those that don't measure up. that way, when you really like a film, it'll actually mean something.
I saw the film at hot docs and thought it was very good but it did have its share of problems.But then again what film doesn't?
I think the issue here is the holier than thou attitude or pseudo-censorship review that attempts to belittle the work and its creative team.
Not all documentaries are meant to "entertain". Some can probe and allow for open interpretations without being lambasted as empty.
I assume the angry response was a result of a poorly thought review in the blogosphere.
I suggest the blogger take a more diplomatic approach to his musings and in turn, avoids offense.
Peter W., thanks for the comment, but I don't understand: what's a "pseudo-censorship review"? How do my comments in any way attempt to censor anyone? Did I say that Korbett Matthews should not be allowed to make films?
What I was criticizing in the film was not a lack of "entertainment value," but what I see as a lack of engagement with the audience, an assumption that the audience will be interested in the story of some guy with a death wish who wanted his bones frozen for future revival - without showing me why this guy is actually interesting.
I went to see the film because I figured the story of Frank Cole - of which I knew very little - was a great opportunity to explore some interesting philosophical and psychological themes, perhaps in the vein of Grizzly Man or Jupiter's Wife. (No, I'm not suggesting that I was expecting to see Grizzly Man II.)
By the end of the film, though, I was annoyed with both Cole and the filmmaker. Based on my experience of watching the film, I can only draw one of two conclusions:
1) Cole's motivation was shallow, or
2) The film failed to explain it, or even to raise any engaging questions about it.
Of course it's not fair of me to judge Frank Cole on the basis of this film, but it certainly isn't unfair to judge the film.
As for your final comment, "I suggest the blogger take a more diplomatic approach to his musings and in turn, avoids offense"...
Since when is it my job to avoid offence? If someone chooses to be offended, that's their issue, not mine.
The goal of this blog is to generate discussion about documentaries from the POV of a filmmaker who's trying to figure out why certain films work and others don't. If someone disagrees with my opinion, they're welcome to tell me so, as several people have. But it would be a much more interesting discussion if, instead of telling me how to write my blog, people would actually say what they liked about the film and why they disagree with me.
I myself have not seen this film but think that as a blogger, you certainly can put your opinions out there, you are articulate, thoughtful and have opinions that are reasonable, as I've seen in many of your reviews. I've also read the various derogatory comments placed here by 'anonymous' and others. If you don't agree with this blogger, you're perfectly free to not read these opinions. And as for Peter W.'s opinion that you should 'avoid offense' - that's precisely what's wrong with all of us today, we fall over ourselves to not offend that in the end, no good art comes out. While I certainly don't mean one has to offend to create art, I do think reviews have to be honest, clear headed and thoughtful. All of which you are. As filmmakers and artists, we have to take the good reviews with the bad and see how we can take inputs and learn off of them, to create better work the next time.
hahahah
funny stuff.
i stumbled upon this site by accident after reading the review of the film in the globe on friday. is is really that bad as the article was written with the intent of stating it was a film worthy of watching this coming sunday night.
Chris, I would encourage you to watch the film and decide for yourself.
I didn't like the film, and I've said why. Clearly, other people liked it, and I'm sure their reasons for liking it are no less valid than the reasons I disliked it.
It was a haunting doc, you cant knock it for that.
I think what you should take into account is that the film is about a member of the Canadian film community who was MURDERED. If you find his films to be lame and of an amateurish quality then you are obviously are missing the point of the film. Makes me wonder what you prejudice is in posting such a vociferous and angry attack on someone who was a truly outstanding Canuck documentarian. Shame on you for having such little empathy. Have some respect for the dead will you?
My God !! Pissed of doc people !!
Don Brittain would say this calls for a round of single malts...
I wanted to chime in to say that I think your reviews are useful and illuminating. They're often a bit more aggressive than I'd say the films warrant - you were particularly harsh on Celia Maysles, who as a first-time filmmaker probably deserved a slightly gentler version of that opinion - but generally they're on the money. What I find truly fascinating, though, is how angry they're making people.
Is this a Canadian thing? Or a documentary thing? Or both? I for one find it refreshing to know that there is at least one person out there - who presumably knows the industry, and what it takes to get a doc made - who will really tell me what he thinks of a film.
That said - it might be worthwhile to add just a touch (a touch, mind you) of kindness to your harsher critiques. Presumably, you too have made some unworthy films; consider writing your next negative review in a way that will encourage the director to make a better one, rather than lambasting it to oblivion. A hard challenge, but I think you're up to it. :)
Thanks, Horse Opera. Kindness? Yes, perhaps you have a point. One blogger I like (who writes about the business rather than reviewing films) once told me about some helpful advice he got: "blog, don't tell." If there's nothing to be learned, there's no point in engaging in gossip or, in my case, criticism. It's always a fine line to tread.
But at the same time, there's a kind of reverence and false politeness in the doc community that I'm reacting against - as well as some deeply entrenched cronyism. Wild Blue Yonder is a film that's made it into the two biggest doc festivals in the world solely because of the subject matter and the name. For those of us who don't enjoy such an advantage, that rankles.
As for the angry comments, it's not entirely a Canadian thing - it's partly a one-guy thing, and partly a result of my decision to allow anonymous comments (hence, a blogosphere thing).
Some of the angry comments came from one filmmaker who just can't stand the idea that someone out there didn't like his film and said so. The rest - many of which I've had to delete - came from one or two people who think it's fun to leave content-free abuse. Someone has also been impersonating both other people who've left comments and filmmakers whose films I've reviewed (one of whom has, sadly, passed on - and no, I'm not referring to Frank Cole).
So as a result of an especially industrious attack yesterday, I've disabled anonymous comments. (I also have a pretty good idea of who's been leaving comments impersonating other filmmakers - Google Analytics is useful that way.)
In any case, thanks for reading, and I look forward to a more civil discussion now that readers have to sign in to leave comments.
Tell it as it is I say!
But it is sometimes better to say nothing than to be cruel to others.
GARBAGE BLOG
When you say "there's something artificial and oddly pathetic about a documentary where a guy sets up a camera and then jumps in front of it to act out a scene" do you mean like Tim Treadwell did in Herzog's perplexing and annoying Grizzly Man?
I found Life Without Death interesting and unfortunately have not see Matthews' treatment of the story.
I did see his short film "Devouring Buddha" and thought it was very good.
Yeah, kind of like Treadwell, who was himself a disturbing character whose creative ambitions led to his untimely demise. But The Man Who Crossed the Sahara, to me, was nothing like Grizzly Man, which tried hard to A) unpack the mystery of how Treadwell became the person he was, and B) explore bigger themes (humans' relationship with nature, etc.). If memory serves (it's been a good seven or eight months since I saw the film), TMWCTS did no such thing. Unlike Herzog, Matthews seems to over-identify with his subject and never gets enough distance to say anything profound about him.
I too saw Devouring Buddha and liked it a lot. It's a much better film than TMWCTS, in part because it's suggestive and intuitive rather than narrative.
(Hmmm... a new comment on a long-dormant blog. Maybe time to re-start it soon...)
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