CHAPTER VI. EAST TIMOR: BETRAYAL AND RESURRECTION
“The documentary producer’s job varies from project, but it always includes raising the funds
for the film, budgeting the film, and making sure the film is delivered on budget. Producing
may also involve hiring crew, finding film subjects and locations, and helping develop the
vision for the project. Quite often, the director and the producer on a documentary are the
same person.”
Kelly Anderson and Martin Lucas, in Documentary Voice and Vision[1]
VI.1. Introduction
This is the first of two case studies of Independent Documentaries. For the purposes of this dissertation, we shall define Independent Documentaries as documentaries produced and financed by the documentarian or an entity he or she controls. Documentary funding can come from a wide variety of sources – television stations, private financing, grants, pre-sales and crowd sourcing, for example. For our purposes, however, regardless of the source of financing, for a documentary to be considered Independent, the documentarian must have final cut – unlike the Institutional or Corporate Documentary, in which the funding institution has final cut.
Editorial control – or the lack of it - by the producer is a fundamental issue in documentary. For example, according to documentary scholars Kelly Anderson and Martin Lucas: “You should not accept support from sources who have an interest in how things are represented in your film… This is a tricky area for documentary filmmaking, where funding is hard to come by, and where it is common for an organization interested in a specific topic to support media production about that area. It is up to you to be clear with funders that you plan to stay independent and represent things as you see them…”[2]
In each of the two case studies presented here, the producer/director had complete editorial control. However, editorial control comes at a price; unless the documentarian has unusually generous and supportive backers, documentarians are often forced to choose between financial backing which guarantees monetization, or assuming the financial risk of self-producing. As we saw in Chapter 2, most famous documentarians – like Robert Flaherty, John Grierson and Dziga Vertov - produced their films with institutional or corporate financing, the exceptions being documentarians like Luis Bunuel and Joris Ivens. However, in the Age of New Media, it is now possible to shoot, edit and distribute high quality documentaries for a fraction of what it would have cost on analog video or film. This new freedom has proved liberating for documentarians, who have traditionally been dependent upon selling their projects to the commissioning editors of major European television networks. In this context, then, it is worth noting that the two independent documentaries being studied here were both produced without input or influence from commissioning editors; rather, each film is a completely independent production produced by the filmmaker. Each film therefore represents an unfiltered personal statement by the producer.
However, this new personal freedom still comes at a price. While New Media has significantly reduced the cost of producing a documentary, monetization of independent documentaries remains a challenge in the United States. While a few independent documentaries, like Michael Moore’s Roger and Me (1989) and Jenny Livingston’s Paris is Burning (1990) have enjoyed commercial success in movie theatres, most do not. Indeed, most independent documentaries still get no theatrical distribution in the United States at all, and, as a result, they rarely ever even recoup their production costs. Therefore, one can rule out potential profit
as a motive for producing an independent documentary. With the profit motive all but eliminated, it seems fair to ask why any documentarian would take the risky route of independent production rather than follow the far more sustainable route of corporate or institutional funding or sponsorship. A few recent independent documentaries which met with critical acclaim offer some answers.
The first regards content. The documentarian may feel he or she has an important story to tell which has been overlooked by what is popularly known as American Mainstream Media, and which he or she feels deserves attention. For example, Africa is a huge and dynamic continent full of fascinating, dramatic and arguably important stories, but also a continent which gets little or no coverage in American mainstream media. Documentarians like Iara Lee from Brazil and Daniel McCabe from the United States have tried to fill this information gap with award-winning feature-length independent documentaries on African countries like Burkina Faso (Burkinabe Rising, 2018) and the Democratic Republic of the Congo (This is Congo, 2017). With their focus on telling the stories of overlooked regions of the world, these independent documentaries carry on the tradition started by Luis Bunuel with his 1933 independent documentary Las Hurdes, which tells the story of an isolated and neglected region of Spain, and continued by the Dutch documentarian Joris Ivens with his documentaries from Spain (The Spanish Earth, 1937) and Asia (How Yukong Moved the Mountains, 1976, and others).
The subject of Case Study #3 is an award-winning, independent feature documentary which, in conscious emulation of the tradition started by Luis Bunuel and Joris Ivens, was produced with the intention of bringing attention to a story from a remote part of the world that had been all but ignored by American Mainstream Media. The title is East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection, 2004), and the producer/director was the author of this dissertation.
Case Study #3 will examine how this independent documentary was made, with an emphasis on the role played by New Media in both production and postproduction. Made while digital technology was still relatively primitive, East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection would have been difficult – if not impossible – to make in the Analog Era.
VI.2. Aims
The goal of Case Study #3 is to show how New Media makes it possible for documentarians to produce, direct and distribute independent low budget long form narrative documentary outside of the established parameters of American Mainstream Media. In the process, Case Study #3 will also explore some of the major differences between analog and digital documentary production in the Age of New Media.
VI.3. Method
Case Study #3 will examine the final cut of the independent documentary feature East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection using Bordwell and Thompson’s guidelines for Analysis employed in Chapters IV and V. First, however, we shall examine the production history of the film in commentary by the producer.
VI.4.1. Production Profile:
East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection (2004) is an 87-minute historical documentary about the struggle of a tiny Southeast Asian island nation for self-determination. Stylistically speaking, East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection is a compilation documentary told in a reflexive style, and here represents an example of a Low Budget Independent Documentary.
Below, please find a brief production profile:
East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection (2004)
Production Company: The Samba Project, LLC, Counterpart International and E.T.D.R.O
Producer/Director: Ted Folke
Associate Producers: Iara Lee, Mina Cho, Simone diBagno, Chaim Litewski, Tord K. Roe,
Principal Photography: Steen Johansen, Antonio Dias
Editors: Jade Ann Benetatos, Ted Folke
Narrator: Lelei Lelaulu
Research: John M. Miller
Technical Consultant: Dan O’Reilly-Rowe
Length: 87 minutes
Budget: c. $50,000.
Production was started in 1999 in East Timor, and postproduction was completed in the United States in 2004. As is the case with most compilation documentaries, original material was mixed with archival material from a variety of sources.
VI.4.2. Commentary: Preproduction
In 1983, after graduating from the Film and Television Director’s Line of Sweden’s Dramatiska Institutet, I moved to New York to work on several projects with former colleagues from United Nations Television – all with the same basic goal: to give a voice to the invisible and unheard peoples of the world. The first of these projects was a feature documentary with my friend Lelei Lelaulu, the Samoan Chair of the Pacific Islands Association, and the project had the working title of Micronesian Mandate.
Our goal was to tell the little-known story of how the islands of Micronesia, a Japanese colony prior to World War II, had been occupied by the American military during the war and had ultimately become a nuclear testing range for the Pentagon, despite the fact that the United States had been given a United Nations mandate to protect and develop the islands.
Enlisting the support of veteran New Zealand documentary producer John Maynard, we tried to find funding in both New Zealand and Australia, but without success. For potential funders in the United States, the subject was too remote and obscure. As one respected American publisher sadly advised us, “Americans are not interested in foreign affairs…”
With an estimated budget of c. $250,000, after two years, Lelei and I decided we had reached a temporary dead-end. Even if all the individuals behind the project deferred their salaries, with shooting ratios of 20:1 or more, there was simply no way to cut basic production costs for film stock and processing, as well as all related post-production costs.[3]As noted in Chapter II, conventional wisdom in the American film industry prior to 2000 was that analog feature documentaries were a bad investment, requiring the backing of institutions or wealthy individuals to be made at all. Even well established and respected independent documentarians like Shirley Clarke could spend years on projects, putting them aside and then only resuming work when additional funding could be found.[4]
My personal commitment to telling Americans untold stories about the world that would help Americans better understand that world did not make my task any easier. Then, in 1997, I found a new documentary project with both intriguing historical content as well as potential backers outside the United States .The subject was Projeto Quadrilatero, an open-air museum celebrating the three cultures of Brazil – the European, African and the Indigenous – in the in the Brazilian state of Bahia. The museum was to open in 2000 -the 500th birthday of Brazil [5].
After six months in Brazil, I met a Brazilian producer working for United Nations
Television named Chaim Litewski who took my idea to another level. With the working title of Brasil 2000, the new projectinvolved telling Brazilian history through the many popular festivals and carnivals of the country to help celebrate the 500th birthday of the country in the year 2000.
The 500th birthday celebration proved to be a strong selling point in Brazil, and, thanks to the generosity of the local hosts, I was able to gather a lot of material, and within a year, Chaim and I had a written proposal ready to submit to potential Brazilian backers. I set up an American production company called The Samba Project, LLC, and started to put together project proposals for a documentary series in both English and Portuguese.
Our first serious potential backer was a man named Mario Calmon, the president of the largest bank in the Brazilian state of Bahia, Banco Economico. I flew down to Salvador da Bahia, capital of the state of Bahia, in early 1999 to meet with Mr. Calmon, but when I arrived, I discovered that he was unavailable. Apparently, there had been a major scandal at Banco Economico involving the embezzlement of millons of dollars, and Mr. Calmon had been forced to resign in disgrace. Clearly, he was no longer in any position to support our project.
While I was in Brazil, I decided to make use of my time by reviewing our budget for the project with our Brazilian location producer from Sao Paulo. As an independent producer and director in New York and Sweden, I had developed frugal habits; I kept budgets as low as possible, and pinched pennies at every opportunity.
Unfortunately, the longer I discussed various expenses with our Brazilian location producer, I realized she wanted the budget to be as high as possible – in short, that she wanted a bloated budget loaded with fat. Well aware that we needed a Brazilian co-producer to be able to receive any Brazilian funding at all, I did not voice any opposition; I knew she was a veteran who knew far more about Brazilian conditions than I did, so I could not argue with her. However, I began to have doubts that we could work together.[6] My instincts told me she was inflating the cost of some items to create additional sources of income for her company, rather than our production – and that if anything went wrong, as a foreigner, I would be a convenient scapegoat for the Brazilian authorities.
When I returned to New York, I expressed my reservations to Chaim who agreed with me; corruption is endemic in Brazil, and the 500th birthday celebration was clearly becoming a huge financial boondoggle. We ruefully realized that as documentarians usually desperate to find any funding at all, we were now in the unusual position of being alert for potential backers who appeared far too generous.
In the spring of 1999, I paid a visit to my old friend Lelei Lelaulu ,who had become the editor of The UN Secretariat News. We were catching up when Nobel Peace Prize winner Jose Ramos Horta from East Timor unexpectedly entered the room. He and Lelei were apparently old friends, and Jose was in an exuberant mood; he had just helped negotiate a deal between the Portuguese and Indonesians which would allow the East Timorese to hold a plebiscite under UN supervision to determine eventual East Timorese independence.
This was extraordinary news; many had written off East Timor as a lost cause after the 1975 Indonesian invasion and annexation of the tiny island nation. If tiny East Timor managed to became independent after 25 years of a brutal Indonesian military occupation, it would be one of the political miracles of the late 20th century – comparable to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the end of Apartheid in South Africa.
I could also see that Jose was both charismatic and politically astute enough to be the subject of a documentary, and I began to wonder if I might not have stumbled upon an opportunity to make a make a film of some historic importance. I rushed downstairs to see my former colleague and friend Steve Whitehouse from New Zealand, the Chief of UNTV, to let him know that I was ready, willing and able to participate in any upcoming UN Mission to East Timor, adding that, thanks to my months of research in Brazil, I spoke what was probably going to become the national language of East Timor - Portuguese. Steve promised to do what he could.
Shortly after that, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan brokered the deal between the Indonesians and the former colonial power Portugal that Jose had told us about , the UN Security Council created the UNAMET mission to run the referendum, which was called The Popular Consultation, from June 11, 1999, with the goal of holding The Popular Consultation on August 31, 1999, to allow the people of East Timor to determine their own future. The UNAMET mission mandate included an information campaign to help the East Timorese understand what they were voting for, and that information campaign include a video unit.
The UNAMET Video Unit consisted of two members of UNTV staff from New York – Michele Zaccheo and Richard Sydenham – and a Jakarta-based Australian named Richard Curnow who rented his digital video equipment to the UN. Their primary task was to produce informational programs which would encourage the local population to vote and help them make an informed decision. These programs were to be broadcast on Indonesian-run television stations in East Timor. The assignment appeared straight-forward enough, but there was one major problem; the Indonesian army, or the TNI, which had been occupying the island for 25 years, was in charge of all security for the referendum, and not the United Nations.
During the summer months, it soon became painfully clear that the Indonesians were not interested in promoting a free and fair vote on East Timorese independence, and, with the TNI looking on, Indonesian trained militias harassed and attacked East Timorese around the island.
There were a number of violent incidents, and some well-documented massacres – most notably in the towns of Liquica and Suai.
In spite of these flagrant attempts at voter intimidation, on August 31,1999, the day of the referendum, UNAMET staffers were amazed to see a massive East Timorese voter turnout, estimated to be well over 90 %. When the results of the vote were tallied, Ian Martin, head of the UNAMET mission, announced on Indonesian television from Dili’s Hotel Makhota, that 78.5 % of the East Timorese had voted against integration as a part of Indonesia, and instead opted for independence. It was a stunning result, and the initial East Timorese response as witnessed by foreign was one of joy and exuberance.
The joy was short-lived, however, and was replaced by terror as the Indonesians launched a massive scorched earth campaign of arson which ultimately destroyed an estimated 80 % of all buildings in East Timor. The Indonesian backed militias committed massive human rights violations across the island, and approximately 150,000 East Timorese were forcibly evacuated into refugee camps in Indonesian-run West Timor.
Many East Timorese sought sanctuary in the UNAMET compound in Dili, which was soon surrounded by hostile militia. Finally, the UN Secretariat in New York brokered a deal with the Indonesian authorities for the evacuation of all UNAMET staff from East Timor, though the deal did not include all the East Timorese who had been hiding in the compound. Many UNAMET staff were unhappy with this evacuation, since UNAMET’s many promises of a free and fair referendum also included a commitment to protecting all those East Timorese who had voted for independence. Aside from the fact that this promise was clearly not being kept, some UNAMET staffers were also clearly unhappy with being part of a UN mission that was being chased out of the country they were committed to serving.
Some even chose to stay with their East Timorese colleagues as long as possible, but eventually the last of the UNAMET staff were driven in Indonesian army trucks to the Dili airport, and flown to Darwin, in Australia. Then the Indonesian-backed militias ran amok in a final campaign of retribution for two weeks, until an Australian-led peacekeeping force arrived to replace the TNI and restore some semblance of order by October.
While these dramatic events were unfolding, I was offered a position as a P-4 video producer with UNTAET, the new UN Administration which would have a mandate to run the nation of East Timor until full independence. I began to do some research, and , the more I learned, the more I realized this assignment would be a challenge; I already knew that East Timor was an impoverished island with a violent history, but I was less aware of the many mosquito-born tropical diseases like encephalitis, malaria, and dengue. After hearing the terrifying reports of what had happened to UNAMET, the previous UN mission to East Timor, I began to suspect I had been offered the job with UNTAET because no one else wanted it.
VI.4.2. Commentary: Production
When I arrived in the UNTAET Video Unit office in the East Timorese capital of Dili on a sweltering day in early January of 2000, the UNTAET Video Unit team consisted of myself, Steen Johansen, a talented Danish colleague who was an experienced videographer, two capable East Timorese cameramen, Antonio Dias and Paulinho Kintas, who had been working with Indonesian television, and Australian Richard Curnow from UNAMET who was on vacation. The UNTAET mandate emphasized capacity building, so there was at least one East Timorese for every international.
Our first assignment was to cover the official opening of UNTAET, and the arrivals in Dili of UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan and newly elected Indonesian President Abdur Rahman Wahid. I discovered that, while we had sturdy Sony TRV 900 cameras, our rented Indonesian computer hardware had seen much better days in Jakarta. While we had our own generators, the fact that the island had no electrical grid made local television broadcasting impossible.
What we could do, however, was drive around in our UN Land Rover and shoot stories for UNTV in New York, as well as document clear evidence of massacres, like the many mutilated bodies we saw in the Dili morgue. Confronted with this massive devastation, I decided this coverage might both justify the UNTAET mission to the outside world, as well as be material for a potential war crimes tribunal as finding a way to tell the story to future generations of East Timorese. Our Timorese colleagues began to show me reported massacre sites around Dili and helped set up interviews with eyewitnesses.
The UN naturally wanted us to shoot reconstruction efforts, and covering one such effort gave me the idea for the film which eventually became East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection. The famous Australian Olympic champion Dawn Fraser appeared one day to officially open a project to renovate a swimming pool in Dili with Australian funding. The swimming pool was in what had been a club for Indonesian officers, and had become a filthy quagmire.
As far as I knew, this was the only swimming pool in Dili, and, what with the oppressive heat, a public pool would help make life more bearable for the local population – particularly the children. While Dili is a port city with a harbor, swimming in the ocean is dangerous due to the presence of the same large, saltwater crocodiles which northern Australia is famous for. However, as we were setting up the shots with Dawn Fraser, I could see our East Timorese translator was upset, so I took her aside to find out what the problem was.
She revealed that this swimming pool was notorious among the East Timorese as a torture site favored by the Indonesian army; I had no way of verifying this information, so I went about my business, but I had gotten an idea. Since I had heard reports of other torture sites in Dili and other towns in East Timor, a guided tour of these torture sites with an East Timorese presenter might be a good way to provide a dramatic structure for a feature documentary on the country.
As the story began to take shape in my mind, our Australian colleague returned from this vacation. As soon as I met him, I knew I had a problem. While I outranked him in the UN hierarchy, he seemed to think he was the boss. A month later, some furious East Timorese colleagues told me this same Australian colleague had physically assaulted one of our female Timorese presenters. To calm things down, I organized a staff meeting, fully expecting that this assault of a female staff member would be punished by the UN authorities -only to be shocked when the Australian got off without even a slap on the wrist. Clearly, he had friends in high places. It was a difficult situation. UNTAET was in start-up mode, and there were internal power conflicts in many departments. Did I want to commit to a long internal struggle ending in a possible physical confrontation? I was not sure. I could see, however, that this conflict would be long and unpleasant, with an uncertain outcome.
Thanks to digital duplication, however, I had another option. I had recently learned digital dupes were as good as originals, and I knew from my friends at UNTV in New York I would have their support if I made an independent feature documentary about UNTAET. Over the course of a few weeks, I quietly duped all the mini-DV tapes in the office.
I knew that my UN contract was due for renewal in June, so I began work on a treatment using the East Timorese City Tour idea as a guiding concept to give the film a structure. I then carefully shot and directed sequences with Steen Johansen in various torture sites and other historic landmarks with our East Timorese presenter, Sebastiao Rego de Guterres, and asked Steen to shoot beautiful images we could use as b-roll in our edit.
When my contract expired at the end of June, I told UNTAET Human Resources that I would not be able to renew due to a family illness, which was unfortunately true. My mother was having serious problems, and her doctors told me my presence was needed to release her from her hospital outside of New York. While part of me wanted to stay with my East Timorese friends, I could see that I might be of more service to them making a film that would tell their incredible story to the world, as well as provide them with a way of telling their story to future generations of East Timorese.
VI.4.3. Commentary: Postproduction
I returned to New York City in July of 2000, and, with the help of Tek-Serve, an Apple service center in Manhattan popular with documentarians, I was able to use my UNTAET severance pay to buy a Final Cut Pro 3 editing suite for about $10,000. My next challenge was learning how to use it. I had worked as a film editor in 16mm, Super 16mm, and 35 mm, and had edited a few films in analog video, but I had never worked with anything like Final Cut Pro.
In September, I resumed teaching at New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology, where I had been an Adjunct Professor of English and Communications since 1997. When I mentioned my problem to my students, one of the brightest – Jade Ann Benetatos – said she was familiar with Final Cut Pro, and volunteered to serve as an unpaid editor.
I could not believe my good luck, and decided to give her a test, which she passed with flying colors. We set up an editing schedule, and began to look through our material and plan the edit. I soon learned that many of my instincts from years of film editing did not work in the digital environment, but Jade Ann, as a true digital native, patiently taught me how to change my approach to new media. She was also a skilled documentary editor, with a special talent for cutting music and sound, and we fortunately had similar tastes in both sound and picture. This made for a remarkably friction- free edit over the course of the next year.
The first step was to find a dramatic structure for our story. We decided upon a modular structure with 5 parts, and I decided to test each part on my supportive FIT students, using them as a focus group. Their responses and suggestions proved invaluable, since they were close to our target audience. While we were editing, we were constantly searching for archival material to compliment the original material I brought back from East Timor. UNTV had given me the rights to all UN material free of charge, but otherwise I had to digitize whatever material I could find and hope to find money to pay for the rights when the project was completed. Thanks to John Miller of The East Timor Action Network, and other friends, I was able to find some excellent material in various formats which my friends at New York’s Rafik Video could then digitize.
In 2001, I testified as an expert witness and showed clips of my material behalf of 6 East Timorese plaintiffs against Indonesian General Johnny Lumintang in a human rights trial in US Federal Court in Washington, DC. At that time, American law allowed plaintiffs from other countries to bring civil suits against alleged abusers in human rights cases, and American jurists from the Center for Constitutional Rights took advantage of the legal loophole to bring the case to a US Federal Court. When General Lumintang did not show up in court, the judge ruled in favor of the plaintiffs, and awarded the East Timorese $66 million. While the East Timorese were unlikely to ever see any of the money, the fact that an American court had ruled in their favor was not lost on the East Timorese, who had been wondering what had happened to the International Tribunal they had been promised the year before.[7][8]
I also showed an early cut of the film as a work-in-progress at New York’s yearly Independent Feature Market, where I had previously done volunteer work as Head of Buyer Liaison – helping filmmakers to find finishing funds for their work. Thanks to this experience, I was familiar with the IFM, but I was disappointed in the lack of interest in our project. It seemed that what I had been told when trying to raise funds for Micronesian Mandate was still true – that Americans were not interested in foreign affairs – even if there was a well-documented historical American involvement in the story.
I resigned myself to finishing the film on my own. While I had just enough money from my work with UNTAET to cover the basic post production expenses, I had no money to pay for music or film rights. However, since I seemed to be the only person in the United States making a documentary on East Timor, my hope was that I would be able to find finishing funds when the film was completed.
Enlisting the aid of Jimmy Bu, a former colleague from UNTV, as cameraman, I shot all the interviews we needed with former UN staff in New York to tell the East Timor story, and began to write the final version of the script. I began to feel there was enough powerful material to justify a 90- minute version.
However, we had a big problem. While Jade Ann and I were able to find some excellent music from East Timor and former colonies in the Portuguese diaspora, we both agreed that the sound quality of Sebastiao’s on-camera presentation was not acceptable. We needed to find a narrator with a good voice who sounded Sebastiao might have sounded. I knew from experience that a bad voice-over narration could kill a film, but after our success in finding an appropriate Asian voice for Footnotes to a War, I knew it was possible.
I then remembered my friend Lelei Lelaulu had been a broadcast professional in New Zealand, and had a wonderful voice with a Samoan inflection which could also pass for Melanesian to an untrained ear. Lelei was now working with the World Bank in Washington, DC, but he kindly agreed to give it a try, with excellent results. We now had the narration we had so desperately needed.
VI.4.4. Commentary: Screenings and Awards
On August 2002, I was invited to screen Part 1 of my documentary to help celebrate East Timor’s Independence Day at the United Nations in New York. The initial working title was East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection, and the packed house included many veterans of the 1999 siege of the UNAMET mission compound in Dili. This was a nerve-wracking test, because my knowledge of those events was only second-hand.
Much to my relief, their response was overwhelmingly positive. I now knew I had a film. I was also secretly thrilled by the quality of the projected sound and image in the theatre; it was hard to believe that these images had come from the innocuous Mini-DV tapes I had brought back from East Timor in my backpack.25
Encouraged by the response at the UN screening, I decided it might a good time to see if there was any chance of completion funding from the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations. I knew that there was a UN tradition of making documentaries on the history of UN Peacekeeping missions when they ended, and my film presented both UNAMET and UNTAET in a positive light. Knowing the UN as I did, I was also more than prepared to make a version that suited their needs should they provide the much-needed completion funds. My colleagues at DPKO suggested I approach the new UNTAET Director of Public Information, Anne Margarethe Wachtmeister from Sweden, who happened to be visiting UNHQ in New York.
The meeting did not go well. Although we had never met before, Ms. Wachtmeister told me in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with me or my project, adding that she thought highly of my former Australian colleague Mr. Curnow, with whom I had had many differences while I was with UNTAET.
Ironically, a few months later, when DPKO sought bids for an UNTAET mission end documentary, they approached my old friend and colleague, Simone DiBagno, who immediately recommended me. As soon as she heard that, Ms. Wachtmeister vetoed my involvement, and the project went to a Canadian company called Macumba Productions, who proceeded to make the official film about UNTAET, which I have never seen, and cannot find today.
My remaining funding options were now limited. All I could do was give the film as much exposure as possible in festivals and screenings, and hope that someone would like the film enough to support it. New York City has many small screening venues, and I was able to have two screenings for invited guests – one of whom was kind enough to donate $3000. to the production. The response from guests continued to be favorable.
In December of 2003, my wife and I were invited to the yearly awards ceremony of UNCA ,
The UN Correspondents’ Association. It was a gala affair, with Hollywood stars like Nicole Kidman and Sidney Pollack in attendance, along with UN political dignitaries. Much to my
surprise, the final cut of East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection won the UN Correspondents’ Association’s Ricardo Ortega Memorial Award for Excellence in Broadcast Journalism. I shared the dais with fellow UNCA Award recipients Hans Blix and Lakhdar Brahimi, and the late UN Secretary General Kofi Annan presented the award, - a black Waterford crystal vase - along with a check for $10,000. That was a proud moment since the award came from my journalistic peers, and my competition had included the BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera, and other major networks.2
In 2005, Claudia Abate, Director of The Foundation for Post Conflict Development, hosted a gala screening for UN dignitaries in New York financed by the Chinese World Harmony Foundation at Fashion Institute of Technology for East Timorese Prime Minister Xanana Gusmao and President Jose Ramos Horta, who invited me to return to East Timor to produce a sequel on the economic development of the country after independence.
I decided this was a unique opportunity, so, in 2006, my wife and I sold our house outside of New York, and bought a new house in Thailand to use as a base for production in East Timor. Before leaving New York, I bought equipment I thought I would need to work on location in East Timor - a Sony Z-1 camera and a customized Apple PowerBook for editing on location.
However, no sooner had we set up a production office with an editing suite in Thailand, we learned that President Ramos Horta had been shot and seriously wounded in post-electoral violence. With the political situation in East Timor uncertain, I had to put my second East Timor project on hold.
Since UNTAET no longer existed, DPKO hastily created a new UN mission for East Timor
called UNMIT to help restore some stability, and I immediately applied for a job as a television producer. However, DPKO Human Resources decided my talents were needed in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, so in December, 2007, I became Chief of the MONUC (later MONUSCO) Video Unit, a post I held until my retirement in July of 2012. While my work in the DRC kept me busy, there were some further developments with East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection when I was in the DRC.
Some friends who had wanted to screen the film in events on behalf of East Timor told me that a certain Australian producer had threatened them with lawsuits if they did so. While other rights-holders had generously waived any fees for the use of their material,[9] this Australian producer did not seem interested in a settlement of any kind. Instead, she preferred to make exorbitant demands which, when coupled with her threats, made negotiation impossible. Since I was in no position to make any changes in the film, I could do nothing.
Then in early 2012, Kym Smithies, Chief of the UNMIT Video Unit, contacted me to let me know that the third UN Mission to East Timor, UNMIT, would be closing at the end of the year, and she was interested in any material I might be able to share for the event. Apparently the afore-mentioned Richard Curnow had inexplicably erased all mini-dv tapes in the office, thus leaving UNMIT without any archived material from UNAMET and UNTAE. As a result, my material and dupes were the sole historical record from those missions. I happily agreed to send everything I had to Kym for the closing ceremonies if she could negotiate on my behalf with the Australian producer. She concurred, and within a few months, everything was happily resolved.
At last, I could realize one of my goals: I could finally put East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection on YouTube, where anyone in the world could see it. [10]
In 2015, I then received some welcome news. My old friend and colleague Antonio Dias , now Chief Producer for TVTL , or East Timorese Television, had found funding to produce an hour-length, Portuguese version of East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection from La Communidad dos Paises da Lingua Portuguesa ( CPLP). I happily signed the contract and sent it off to Antonio at TVTL along with copies of the final cut on external hard drives.[11]
VI.5. Analysis of East Timor Betrayal and Resurrection[12]
VI.5.1. Part One: Rebirth of a Nation[13]
The film opens with a low, wide angle shot showing the ruins of the Hotel Makhota in Dili, capitol of East Timor. We see a text reading: Dili, East Timor in the middle of the frame, and the only sound is natural street noise. The camera pans down to the left to show us the exterior of the hotel, and our narrator, East Timorese journalist Sebastiao Rego de Guterres, speaks.
SEBASTIAO
Welcome to Ground Zero in Dili, capital of the Asian island nation of East Timor. This used
to be the Hotel Makhota, once the finest hotel in town…
We see Sebastiao as he enters the Makhota from the street. Once inside, on the ground floor, Sebastiao sees that the hotel no longer has any walls, and we hear a crunching noise as he walks gingerly through the rubble. Sebastiao continues:
SEBASTIAO
It was built by Portuguese businessmen when East Timor was a Portuguese colony. In 1975,
the Indonesians invaded East Timor and the Makhota was taken over by Indonesian
businessmen…
Several Timorese kids noisily walk past Sebastiao heading in the opposite direction. Sebastiao ignores them, and instead inspects some large shards of metal hanging from the ceiling. The camera moves to show us his face in close-up. His expression is grim.
SEBASTIAO
And this is the room where, on September 4, 1999, Ian Martin of the United Nations
announced the results of a UN-run referendum in which the East Timorese voted to become
independent from Indonesia…
As he speaks, we hear the sound of the television broadcast announcing the results, and we hear the opening bars of the film’s title song, Timor, a soft Timorese lament for their lost homeland.
At 1:29, in a flashback, we cut to an East Timorese family watching the television broadcast of the referendum results in their home. There are several young girls sitting on the floor watching the TV. We see a split screen image of UN Secretary General Kofi Annan and UNAMET SRSG Ian Martin as they announce the referendum results in English, with a simultaneous Portuguese translation on the television.
At 1:51, we cut to a shot of the adult members of the family watching the television broadcast while seated on chairs in the kitchen. As the Portuguese translator on the television gives the news that the East Timorese have voted 78.1 % for independence, they start to react. The family father gets up from his chair and hugs his brother while we hear the adult female members of the family sobbing in joy. As they celebrate, we see the first title:
The Samba Project, LLC, Counterpart International and E.T.D.R.O. Present
Behind all the titles, we see the family celebration continuing uncut. The family father releases his brother and now turns to hug his wife. By now, they have all begun to weep. At 2:07, we see the main title of the film:
EAST TIMOR: BETRAYAL AND RESURRECTION
The camera pans over to the teen-aged males of the family, who are standing with raised arms making V for Victory signs as they watch the television broadcast.
At 2:11, we see the main credit:
A FILM BY TED FOLKE
As the teen-aged males continue to celebrate, at 2:16, this credit is followed by:
WITH SEBASTIAO REGO DE GUTERRES
At 2:23, the camera pans over to more adult family members hugging and sobbing,
and more credits appear:
JOSE RAMOS HORTA
XANANA GUSMAO
Followed by:
KOFI ANNAN
SERGIO VIEIRA DE MELLO
At 2:32, the oldest brother releases the head of the family, and stares at the television with tears streaming down his cheeks. The credits continue:
JORGE SAMPIAO
ABDURRAHMAN WAHID
At 2:38, we pan back to the teen-aged males on the left. The credits continue:
IAN MARTIN
DAVID WIMHURST
At 2:44, the teen-aged male continues to flash his V for Victory sign at the television, while old brothers continue to sob and hug each other. The credits continue:
SIDNEY JONES
DAVID COOK
At 2:50, the camera tilts down to show the kids still sitting on the floor. We see the
credit:
NARRATOR;
LELEI LELAULU
The kids look a bit confused by what is going on, and at 2:56, one has decided that she should also cry, so she joins the adults in sobbing. We see this title:
PRINCIPLE PHOTOGRAPHY
STEEN JOHANSEN
ANTONIO DIAS
One of the men picks up one of the little girls and tries to show her that this is a happy moment, and directs her attention towards the television. At 3:02, we see the following credit:
EDITOR
JADE ANN BENETATOS
TED FOLKE
As the little girl starts flashing the V for Victory sign at 3:06, we see this credit:
RESEARCH
JOHN M. MILLER
All the adults in the family are now staring at the television with tears streaming down their cheeks. At 3:11, we see this credit:
TECHNICAL CONSULTANT
DAN O’REILLY ROWE
Finally, at 3:17, we see the final credits:
ASSOCIATE PRODUCERS
MINA CHO
SIMONE DIBAGNO
CHAIM LITEWSKI
IARA LEE
TORD K. ROE
At 3:22, the camera tilts down to the little girls seen on the floor at the beginning of the shot. Some of them are now wiping tears from their eyes, in apparent solidarity with the weeping adults. At 3:30, the screen fades to black, and the music fades out.
At 3:34, we fade into a long shot of a spectacular sunrise over the Timor Sea, and hear the beginning of Saudades, as sungby the popular Cabo Verde singer Caesaria Evora .At 3:36, we see the title:
PART 1:
REBIRTH OF NATION
At 3:51, we dissolve into a traditional Timorese dance to honor important guests. Sebastiao resumes his narration as we see Portuguese President Jorge Sampaio shaking hands with East Timorese in front of the Presidential Palace.
SEBASTIAO
In February of 2000, President Jorge Sampaio of Portugal visited East Timor. It was the
first visit official visit by a representative of the Portuguese government in twenty-five
years…
At 4:14, we dissolve to Jose Ramos Horta, East Timorese Foreign Minister, sitting on the porch in front of his house. He begins to speak in English, with Ceasaria Evora low in the background:
RAMOS HORTA
East Timor, as such, has a long, long history. Not as an independent entity, but as a
community, going back thousands of years.
We see a long shot of East Timorese women harvesting rice in a green paddy in front of a spectacular mountain range. The camera zooms back to show the landscape.
RAMOS HORTA
After the island was formed, the first settlers came some 40,000 years ago. And that is how
the very strong cultural identity was formed… Then came the Portuguese, 500 years. It was
the Portuguese colonization which forged the concept of East Timor as a nation state…
We see black and white footage from colonial times of Portuguese colonial officials being given an official ceremonial welcome by the East Timorese. The East Timorese unfurl bolts of cloth onto the ground so the Portuguese never have to actually touch the ground. Then we see young East Timorese girls performing a traditional Timorese dance, with the Ceasaria Evora music faded up. This shot is followed by another welcoming ceremony in which the Portuguese officials are carried in a Timorese palanquin towards the camera.
RAMOS HORTA
Indonesia is a collection of islands, of 300 different ethnic groups, speaking 500 languages.
They imported Bahasa Malay to be their language, The Dutch colonial history is what
unifies Indonesia today. East Timor likewise bases its identity on its long colonial history.
Without the Portuguese colonial history, what would East Timor be today? We don’t know…
At 5:38. we see East Timor on a map of the region, and pull back to show all the surrounding countries, The Caesaria Evora song is faded up.
At 5:45, we cut to a helicopter shot showing East Timor’s North Coast, with
pristine beaches and lush green forests. There are no signs of human habitation.
At 5:51, we hear the voice of East Timorese President Xanana Gusmao:
GUSMAO
…Three components of our identity -Historical, cultural and religious…
These components allowed us, as a very small piece of land – half of a
small island, with an enclave on the other half…
We then see President Gusmao. He continues:
GUSMAO
… being contemplated with the rights of self-determination and independence,
between thirteen thousand islands – small and big - in the Indonesian
archipelago…
The Caesaria Evora song fades out, and we cut to a procession outside of
Dili’s cathedral. We see Xanana with Portuguese Prime Minister Sampaio and
UNTAET SRSG Sergio Vieira de Mello surrounded by security guards and
journalists advancing towards us. Off-camera, Sebastiao resumes his narration:
SEBASTIAO
For the East Timorese, one of the most important legacies of Portuguese
Colonial rule has been the Roman Catholic Church. The Church, led by
Nobel Peace Prize winning Bishop Belo, was a significant force in the resistance
to the 25 year- long Indonesian occupation,
We see Prime Minister Sampaio meeting Bishop Belo, and at 7:04, they all enter the cathedral.
Inside the crowded cathedral, we see a choral procession in white robes moving towards the altar, where Bishop Belo begins to give communion. In close-up, we see Timorese boys and girls receiving communion from the Bishop. Off-camera, we hear the voice of Prime Minister Sampaio as he addresses the Timorese people in front of the Presidential Pala
At 7:27, we see Prime Minister Sampaio standing as he continues his speech:
SAMPAIO
… My friends, a warm, warm embrace to all of you…I hope this effort – this presence from
a country which never left you 25 years ago.
We cut to a flag-lowering ceremony in the same place from 25 years before when the Portuguese were preparing to leave with the Portuguese flag. Sampaio continues:
SAMPAIO
…representing an embrace of hope, and an embrace of respect, and an embrace of great
admiration for your determination and courage… And an embrace of hope that these
forces joined together by the United Nations will help rebuild your country…
At 8:22, we cut on a drum roll to black and white footage of a parade celebrating the overthrow of the Portuguese dictatorship. Sebastiao sets the scene:
SEBASTIAO
Twenty-five years before, events on the other side of the world were to have a
Devastating effect on tiny East Timor. In 1974, after years of futile colonial wars,
The Portuguese army overthrew the dictatorship in Lisbon,
We see an Independence celebration in Cabo Verde. Sebastiao continues:
SEBASTIAO
In 1975, the new Portuguese government gave independence to all her former African
Colonies…
Title: July 2, 1975
Cape Verde Independence.
We see a title superimposed on the Cabo Verde celebration, and hear their independence song.
We follow a joyous Cape Verde independence procession dancing from left to right.
At 9:15, we cross-fade to music from Mozambique, and see their more regimented independence celebration procession striding from right to left in their capital of Maputo.
Title: June 25, 1975
Mozambique Independence
At 9:40, we cut to the Angola independence celebration, with women dancing around drum-playing men in the capitol of Luanda. The mood is euphoric, as the drumbeats intensify.
Title: November 11, 1975
Angola Independence
At 9:58, we cut to a color shot of the American presidential jet landing in Jakarta, capitol of Indonesia. Off-camera, we hear Sebastiao:
SEBASTIAO
In Asia. East Timor was to become independent in 1978. However, the United States
and Indonesia had other plans for East Timor…
We see American President Gerald Ford and his wife being greeted by Indonesian President
Suharto. We hear the American national anthem, and off-camera, we hear the voice of former C.I.A. agent C. Philip Liechty:
LIECHTY
As an example of what was going to happen, the embassy staff were taking unusual
measures to plan photo opportunities to present Ford and Suharto together to
demonstrate unlimited American support for Suharto and the Indonesian government.
And I thought, “Wait a minute- something is seriously wrong here…”
We see Presidents Ford and Suharto together at a variety of ceremonial functions in Jakarta. At
10:41, we see Liechty speaking on camera:
LIECHTY
I joined C.I.A, many years ago in the early sixties because I was one of these fellows
who said, “Instead of complaining about what was going on in the world, and
doing nothing about it, you might be able to accomplish something good. But when I
saw the situation here in Indonesia, I saw that my own government was very much
involved in what was going on in East Timor – and that what was going on was not
good. You can be 100 % certain that Suharto was explicitly given the green light…
At 11:21, we cut to a shot of East Timorese troops mobilizing before the invasion. Off -camera. we hear Jose Ramos Horta asking for international assistance during the invasion:
RAMOS HORTA
We are appealing not only to Australia but to all the democratic forces of the world
to stop this Indonesian violation of our territory…
At 11:31, we see Ramos Horta in East Timor in 1975 dressed in military fatigues as he helps prepare the defense of his country. He speaks on-camera:
RAMOS HORTA
It is a criminal act, and should be stopped immediately by all the democratic
countries of the world.
At 11:36, we cut to a shot of Ramos Horta two decades later at a university in Australia. Now he is wearing a bow-tie and a suit, and looks like the university lecturer he was at the time. We see a subtitle:
Jose Ramos Horta
Foreign Minister in Exile
RAMOS HORTA
The first days, hundreds and hundreds of people were massacred on the Indonesian
troops arrival in Dili.
At 11:40, we cut to a still shot of Indonesian troops showing off the heads of decapitated East Timorese. Off-camera, we hear Philip Liechty:
LIECHTY
We were learning about it from hard, firm reports from people on the scene in East
Timor…
At 11:41, we see Liechty talking on camera:
LIECHTY
Reports of people being herded into school buildings by soldiers, and with the buildings
being set on fire, and with anyone trying to get out being shot, with most of the people
being burned alive… People being herded into fields and machine-gunned… People
being hunted down in the mountains, so anyone who was out there was in what
amounted to a free fire zone…
At 12:10, we see Australian journalist Greg Shackleton reporting on location from East Timor in 1975. Sebastiao introduces him off-camera:
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
The Indonesian army also targeted foreign journalists. This was Australian TV reporter
Greg Schackleton’s last broadcast…
We see Shackleton in close-up as he speaks to the camera, microphone in hand.
SHACKLETON
Why, they ask, if the Indonesians believe that Fretelin is communist, do they not send a
delegation to Dili to find out? Why, they ask, are the Australians not helping us? When
the Japanese invaded, they did help us… Why, they ask, are the Portuguese not helping
us? We are still a Portuguese colony. Who, they ask, will pay for the terrible damage to
our homes?
At 12:39, we see Greg painting the words “Australian journalist” on his house, and we hear his
mother, Shirley Shackleton:
SHIRLEY SCHACKLETON (OFF)
There are witnesses who said they heard the Australian journalists shouting. “Australian
Journalists, non-combat!” Then they said they heard fire, and there was no more sound.
At 12:54, we see Shirley Shackleton in close-up as she speaks:
SHIRLEY SCHACKLETON
I don’t know whether it happened to Greg – or which of the 5 – but the majority of them
were hung up by their feet. Their sexual organs were removed and pushed into their
mouths. They were stabbed with the short throwing knives the Indonesia soldiers carry,
and it isn’t known whether they were asphyxiated or if they bled to death ,or if they just
got stabbed in the heart and died quickly….
At 13:20, we see Australian World War II veteran Paddy Kenneally:
KENNEALLY
…The conduct of the Australian government, from 1974 onwards, has been an absolute
disgrace. The people of East Timor suffered so much for them, and all Australia ever did
for them was deny them and betray them, support the people who were murdering them.
They knew what was going on in East Timor…
At 13:38, as Kenneally speaks, we see combat footage from the invasion. Soldiers shooting
and civilians hiding behind cars. We see three young girls crying as they try to protect each
other from the bullets.
KENNEALLY (OFF)
They all talk about democracy, and they all talk about human right, but in the case of
East Timor, not one country in this world stood up for the Timorese. We have forgotten
what the Timorese had done for us. The people of East Timor really expected Australia
would do something, but Australia did nothing- much to our everlasting shame.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
At 14:08, we see the foreign ministers of Indonesia and Australia on an airplane cheerfully toasting each other with champagne. In a musical bridge. we hear Cole Porter’s classic “I Get a Kick out of You” behind Sebastiao’s narration:
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
In 1992, the Indonesians rewarded the Australians for their support with a deal to
drill for oil in the Timor Gap…
At 14:18, we see Australian Foreign Minister Gareth Evans addressing the media covering the meeting on the airplane:
EVANS
…The agreement – the relationship we’ve had has been very significant, and very
important. But this is truly unique and uniquely important, and for that reason,
this is really quite a historic occasion we are witnessing here today…
The Foreign Ministers raise their champagne glasses and toast one another.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
At 14:35, we cut to Ramos-Horta in his professorial garb in Australia.
RAMOS HORTA
They could at least be more discrete about it! It was so obvious – here they were
ripping off the wealth of East Timor. First, Indonesia invades East Timor, and
Australia recognizes that invasion, that annexation, saying it is for the good of the
people of East Timor. Australia kept telling us and Indonesia that East Timor is too
poor to be viable as an independent state… But then they go on to sign a treaty to
exploit the immense oil reserves of the Timor Sea area.
At 15:08, we cut to a shot of Foreign Ministers Evans of Australia and Ali Atlas of Indonesia signing the treaty on board the airplane. We hear Ramos Horta off-camera:
RAMOS HORTA (OFF)
It is a display of audacity, of hypocrisy.
At 15:13, we hear the voice of Ines Almeida of East Timor commenting on the treaty:
ALMEIDA (OFF)
Its the blood that they’re signing, people’s blood.
At 15:17, we see Ines Almeida, with the subtitle Timorese Exile.
ALMEIDA
The Timorese never had a say in it. And it belongs to us – not to Australia or Indonesia.
At 15:26, we cut to a shot of former Australian Prime Minister Gough Whitlam making a speech at the United Nations in 1982. We also see his name, title and the words United Nations, 1982:
WHITLAM
I think it is high time that the question of East Timor was voted off the United Nations
agenda, and that it cease to preoccupy and distract the nations of Southeast Asia
and the Pacific…
FADE OUT
FADE IN
At 15:39 we hear the opening chords of the Angolan singer Bonga’s song asking the world not to forget East Timor, and we see flowers on a tombstone in the Santa Cruz cemetery in Dili. As we see a montage of the tombstones, we see the words of the song translated into English superimposed on the screen:
BONGA( OFF)
Sing, sing, reveal the light,
Tell the world not to forget East Timor.
Sing, sing, reveal the light.
Tell the world not to forget East Timor
We see Sebastiao walking through the graveyard, and hear him speak:
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
The 25 year-long Indonesian occupation was one of the most brutal episodes in
recent history. However, the rest of the world seemed to have forgotten East
Timor…
We see Sebastiao looking at a large cross with the name SEBASTIAO GOMES.
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
Then in 1991, a brave English filmmaker named Max Stahl filmed what became
known as the Santa Cruz Massacre. A funeral for a young man named Sebastiao
Gomes turned into a demonstration for independence. And the resulting slaughter
was seen around the world…
FADE OUT
FADE IN
At 16:29, the Bonga music increases in volume, and we see Max Stahl’s original footage of the Santa Cruz Massacre, First we see Timorese demonstrators advancing down the street in front of the Governor’s Palace. They carry signs and banners demanding independence.
Then we see Indonesian army units moving into the Santa Cruz cemetery, and see the Timorese fleeing for their lives. Some fall, and we see bleeding bodies on the ground. In close-up, we see a Timorese man trying to help a bleeding comrade.
At 17:47, we cut out of the Max Stahl footage to a more contemporary shot of a quiet chapel in the Santa Cruz cemetery. As the camera pulls back, we hear Sebastiao:
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
In 1997, East Timorese leaders Jose Ramos Horta and Bishop Belo received the
Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo…
FADE OUT
FADE IN
At 18:05, we cut to a Timorese man standing with a group of men near a house. He looks angry,
and speaks directly to the camera in subtitled Portuguese:
ANGRY MAN
The Portuguese left us, and didn’t look back. The Indonesians arrived and ruined
Everything. In those 24 years, many people have been killed, 300 men, 300 people-
300,000 people have died for this land. Why won’t the world open its eyes to see
what’s happening to the Timorese people?
At 18:39, we cut to a shot of Timorese Falantil guerillas meeting with the local population in.a remote mountain town. We heard Sebastiao:
SEBASTIAO ( OFF)
In the rugged mountains of East Timor, the Falantil guerilla continued to struggle
Against Indonesian rule.
We see Falantil Guerilla One leading a chant:
FALANTIL GUERILLA ONE
A LUTA –
The Timorese crowd responds:
TIMORESE CROWD
CONTINUA!!
At 18:43, we see Falantil Guerilla Two taunting his Indonesian enemies on his radio phone, much to the amusement of three of his colleagues:
FALANTIL GUERILLA TWO
Its better you go home. Then Timor will be peaceful.
INDONESIAN ARMY (ON RADIO PHONE)
You shits! You shits!!
FALANTIL GUERILLA TWO
Speak politely – we’re both human.
INDONESIAN ARMY
Who are you guys?
FALANTIL GUERILLA TWO
We’re the guys you have been looking for day and night. The ones you call
terrorists.
At 19:02, we cut to a wide shot of a crowded motorized Timorese funeral procession in Dili. The coffin is on a pick-up truck packed with mourners, and hundreds of others ride alongside the pick-up truck on their motorbikes. We hear the amplified sound of the Catholic catechism being chanted by the mourners over the sound of the motorbikes. The sound is deafening.
SEBASTIAO (OFF)
Meanwhile, for most Timorese, life under the Indonesians was an endless
series of funerals. According to the United Nations, almost 200,000
Timorese, or 25 % of the population, died during the Indonesian occupation,
International human rights organizations began to talk of an’East Timorese
genocide…
We move down the motorized procession, which seems endless, and the chanting of Catholic prayers continues as the procession moves towards the Santa Cruz cemetery,
We see the pallbearers carrying the coffin into the cemetery.
FADE OUT
END OF PART 1
VI.6. Conclusion:
VI.6.1. Commentary
The making of East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection was both a humbling and gratifying experience on many levels. As any filmmaker knows, just getting a film done provides a great sense of accomplishment – even if the end product is a disappointment. In this case, the goal was to get the film done and provide the East Timorese with a historical record they could broadcast both internally and externally to show how they became an independent nation. While I have my own aesthetic and technical standards, in this case the rough aspects of the final product seemed almost appropriate, and I was naturally thrilled beyond my wildest dreams when the film received the 2004 UN Correspondents Association’s Ricardo Ortega Award for Excellence in Broadcast Journalism, beating a number of well-established broadcast entities in the process.
In all honesty, however, I was surprised no one else had done this story, since it had all the ingredients a filmmaker could hope for – heroes and villains, drama, pathos and even some moments of humor. It also had a fairly clear beginning and end, something I have been struggling to find in my current project about my years in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Since the film was shot almost two decades ago, this case study offers definitive proof - just as the Italian neorealists did 75 years ago - that narrative content is more important than technical virtuosity or gimmicks. Some East Timorese told me the East Timorese leadership liked the film, because I managed to say some things they would not have felt comfortable saying themselves. If that is the case, I was lucky, because no one told me what to say at any point in the production.
If anything, I followed my own heart – with only occasional but productive creative disputes with my superb editor Jade Ann Benetatos. Her contribution and support – along with that of all my interns and students – was invaluable – as was the contributions and support from to
Projects like these increase my faith in human nature, and my belief that virtually anything is possible provided one is willing to confront overwhelming odds – just as the East Timorese themselves did.
VI.6.2. Final Thoughts
As Case Study #3 has shown, the Age of New Media has ushered in a new era for long form documentaries. Since the dawn of the new millennium, digital technology has made it possible for documentarians to create content at a fraction of the cost of analog documentary, thus offering freedom from institutional or corporate control. And, as we shall see in Case Study#4, on the independent Brazilian feature documentary Citizen Boilesen, by Chaim Litewski,
this new freedom allows the documentarian to explore a subject in depth and in a style of his or her own choosing.
The result has been a wave of highly personal statements in a wide variety of innovative new styles, giving new life to documentary cinema it emerges from the ashes of what was being called the death of cinema by Susan Sontag and others at the turn of the century. While most of these new documentaries are being shown on various streaming services rather than television, the apparently strong audience response has already caused major streaming services like Netflix to invest heavily in documentary as well as dramatic production.
It would appear that in both commercial and creative terms, the documentary genre is on the verge of a Renaissance.
VI.7. Appendix A: Notes
[1] Anderson, Kelly and Martin Lucas ( Documentary Voice &Vision – A Creative Approach to Non-Fiction Media Production) Focal Press, New York and London, 2016. p. 65
2Ibid. p. 56.
3 Eventually Australian documentarian Dennis O’Rourke found a way to tell this important story with Australian support: https://youtu.be/jGvha9MO3pY. In America, the Rafferty brothers managed to find a way to tell the story as a compilation film using US government footage in their Academy Award-nominated Atomic Café: https://youtu.be/AymBFIo2-sM
4 Ornette: Made in America was a classic example. According to Shirley, she shot the first part of the film in the late 1960’s, and ran out of money before she could finish shooting. The original footage remained in cans underneath Ornette’s bed for almost 20 years until Ornette found a backer and Shirley was able to resume production, which was completed in 1985. https://youtu.be/gvwwPJM74F0
5Called Projeto Quadrllatero, the goal of the project was to protect what was left of the Mata Atlantic – the Atlantic Rain Forest in southern Bahia by the creation of a 400 square kilometer museum
6. An example: I have always liked shooting with as small a production crew as possible, especially when shooting documentary in remote locations with indigenous populations. Like most documentarians, I like to keep my presence as low profile as possible. For both aesthetic and economic reasons, a team of three or four is ideal. For these reasons, I was dismayed when our Brazilian location producer insisted upon a crew of at least 10 people!
7https://www.theguardian.com/world/2001/oct/06/indonesia.easttimor
8 https://ccrjustice.org/home/what-we-do/our-cases/doe-v-lumintang
9 Most notably Australian journalist John Pilger, who kindly allowed me to use material from his Death of a Nation.
10For East Timor: Betrayal and Resurrection, please click here: https://youtu.be/j_s46-5R4OE
11 For contract with CPLP, please see Appendix B.
12 For this film, please click here: https://youtu.be/j_s46-5R4OE
13For Part 1, please click here: https://vimeo.com/69272262
Password: Dzigavertov1
VI. 8. Appendix B: Contract with CPLP
VI.9.Appendix C. Images
The author after receiving the 2004 UN Correspondents’ Association Ricardo Ortega Award for Excellence in Bro
The author with East Timorese President Xanana Gusmao at screening of EAST TIMOR: BETRAYAL AND RESURRECTION io his honor at New
York’s Fashion Institute of Technology, 2006.
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