II. DEFINING THE DOCUMENTARY
“Naming matters. Names come with
expectations; if that were not true, then marketers would not use them as
marketing tools. The truthfulness, accuracy, and trustworthiness of
documentaries are important to us all because we value them precisely and
uniquely for these qualities…Documentaries are part of the media that helps us understand
not only our own world, but our role in it, that shape us as public actors.”
Patricia Aufderheide, in Documentary
Film – A Very Short Introduction[1]
II.1. What is Documentary?
Before exploring documentary
from the contemporary perspective of the digital revolution and new media, let
us direct our attention to the traditional forms and aesthetic conventions of the
documentary genre itself. As is often the case with revolutions, one of the
unfortunate side effects of the digital revolution has been a tendency on the
part of some to either deny or ignore the value of past history or
traditions.
In the case of
documentary, this is particularly unfortunate, because there is a rich
documentary tradition dating back to the end of the 19th century
that is arguably still of great relevance today. Finding a definition of documentary from
within that tradition that would apply both to analog and digital documentary
would help make that case to the new generation of Digital Natives mentioned in Chapter I.
However, there
are a few major obstacles.
One major impediment is that fact that while
documentary is a universally recognized cinematic form, an agreement on exactly
what is, and what is not, a documentary has proved elusive throughout the
course of cinematic scholarship from the early 20th century to the present
day. Indeed, the issue has frequently
been the subject of heated controversy.
II.2. Definitions from the
Historical Tradition
There does not appear to be a consensus among cinema
historians regarding the etymology of the term documentary. However, most do agree that the early works of the
French Lumiere brothers shot in 1896 are documentary in nature‚ since they were
motion picture images of daily life at the time
- workers leaving a factory, a train arriving at a station, soldiers on
military drills ; there has never been any suggestion that the Lumiere brothers
staged any of these events for the camera, though they did produce some staged comic skits.
In the last years
of the 19th century, Lumiere associates traveled around the world,
introducing their new camera, the cinematographe,
and the film medium to countries like Sweden, Russia, Algeria, Egypt,
India, Australia and Japan. Along the way, they shot the first documentary
footage of those countries.[2] So,
while there is little dispute today that the Lumiere brothers were the first
documentarians per se, the term documentary did not exist at the time. The
film medium was in its infancy, and was still seen by most people as a novelty.
The respected American documentary historian
Erik Barnouw asserts that the earliest recorded use of the term documentary was by a Polish cinematographe operator named Boleslaw
Matuszewski in book published in Paris in 1898 with the title Une Nouvelle Source de l’Histoire. According
to Barnouw, Matuszewski proposed a “cinematographic
museum, or depository ‘for material ‘of a documentary interest…slices of public
and national life.”[3]
Be that as may, Barnouw and most other
documentary historians agree that there are three documentarians whose
work laid the foundations for the
development of documentary in the early 20 th century: the American Robert
Flaherty and his ethnographic film depicting
Inuit Life in Canada Nanook of the
North ( 1922); the Scot John Grierson and his educational documentary films
on British life, such as The Night Mail
(1936); finally, the Russian Dziga Vertov and his innovative films on life
in the Soviet Union, including A Man with
a Movie Camera (1929)’[4]A
brief examination of their work and careers might be a useful way to determine
the nature of their legacies and the relevance of their ideas today.
II.2.1. Robert Flaherty
Many Anglophone cinema historians attribute the first use of
the term documentary to John
Grierson, the Scottish documentary producer who created the famous British
Empire Marketing Board Film Unit. Grierson reportedly first used the term to
describe American Robert Flaherty’s Moana
(1926) [5]:”
Of course, Moana, being a visual account
of events in the daily life of a Polynesian youth and his family, has
documentary value…”[6]
Thanks to Moana and his earlier film Nanook of the North (1922), Flaherty is
widely recognized as the first documentarian.
However, while these first films initially met with both commercial and
critical success in the United States, they subsequently became the subject of
controversy. During the Great Depression. British
documentarians, led by Grierson, began to express an ambivalence towards the
work of Flaherty, the man they had previously lionized as a pioneer. For
example, in Documentary Film (1935),
the first known history of documentary, Grierson protégé Paul Rotha accused Flaherty
of romanticizing the lives of his subjects:“Surely
we have the right to believe that the documentary method, the most virile of all kinds of film, should not
ignore the vital social issues of this year of grace…”[7]
With the advent of synchronized sound in the early 1930’s, Grierson
and his colleagues developed a new style of documentary with a heavy reliance on
the unseen omniscient narrator – a technique Grierson called direct address narration. Since Flaherty abhorred narration, this reliance on Direct Address increased the creative
schism between the two.
In 1934, Flaherty’s Man of Aran won a first prize at the Venice Film Festival, and was
praised by many as Flaherty’s finest work – with the notable exception of
Grierson.[8] Rather than acknowledge his colleague’s
achievement, Grierson ungraciously sniffed that he hoped that ‘the neo-Rousseauianism implicit in
Flaherty’s work dies with his own exceptional self...”[9]
II.2.2. The Legacy of Robert
Flaherty
Flaherty
was never able to articulate his own aesthetic and ideology in words. When he died
in 1951, his widow Frances attempted to protect his legacy through the creation
of The Flaherty Seminars, which were held
yearly in upstate New York. However, as
embarrassing facts behind the shooting of Nanook
of the North became public knowledge, Flaherty’s stature as a documentary
pioneer was tarnished; staging and re-enactment had been considered a violation of basis
documentary ethics ever since the Soviet documentarian Dziga Vertov had
declared them to be taboo in his Kino Eye
manifesto in the 1920’s.[10]
What was left of Flaherty’s reputation was subsequently devastated by the withering
ideological critiques during the post-Colonial era of the 1960s; his
man-versus-nature theme was vigorously denounced as a “romantic fraud”[11]
by Third World critics like Fatimah Tobing Rony, who described Nanook
of the North as, “a cinema of romantic
preservationism, dedicated not to anthropological knowledge but to the
production of indigenous people as trophies and to the capture of their ways of
life in nostalgic fiction…”[12]
Such ideological issues, along with Flaherty’s
well-documented penchant for re-enactment and outright fabrication of the lives
of the peoples whose stories he was supposedly documenting, have caused him to
be regarded as something less than a role model for aspiring documentarians
today. Still, Flaherty has defenders like American documentary film historian
Betsy McLane who say that any inaccuracies in his portrayals of indigenous
peoples are of minor import, since his “intentions were good.” Conveniently overlooking the fact that Nanook
of the North was financed by Reveillon Freres,[13]
a Canadian fur trapping company, McLane
does not consider the possibility that Flaherty’s well documented
misrepresentation of his subjects’ lives suited his sponsor’s intentions.[14]
Today, most documentarians would agree
that covertly recreating the daily realities of their subjects is a fundamental
violation of basic documentary ethics. If a documentarian invents a new reality
for his subjects, and changes their attire and living conditions, most
documentarians today would agree he or she is no longer making a documentary.
As
for Flaherty’s intentions, he himself writes that he did not want to show the
impact of the modern European world on Eskimo life, preferring to preserve
images of Eskimo life as he imagined it for posterity. Unfortunately, by the
time Flaherty was making Nanook, the modern world was already having a
major impact on Eskimo life. For example, the introduction of firearms had led
to the end of the traditional Eskimo walrus hunt with harpoons because hunting
with firearms was safer and more efficient. With disregard both for historical
fact as well as the safety of his Eskimo talent, Flaherty managed to persuade
Nanook and his friends to resurrect the traditional walrus hunt for his camera.
While there is no record of any loss of Eskimo life in this scene, Flaherty’s
fabrication of the walrus hunt raises ethical issues as well questions of
historical authenticity.
Therefore,
in contemporary terms, one might say that the cinematic legacy of Robert
Flaherty, thanks to his pioneering efforts to document the lives of indigenous
peoples, would be the ethnographic
documentary, though with
reservations like those of Brian Winston, who was quoted as wondering how much better the history of
documentary would have been “if an
anthropologist like Franz Boas – and not a self-styled artist-explorer in a
colonial mode like Flaherty had created the paradigm…”[15]
II.3.1. John Grierson
The role of John Grierson in the development of
documentary remains significant
to this day. His prominence as head
of the Film Unit of the British Empire
Marketing
Board, and, later, as the founder of the National Film Board of Canada gave him
powerful institutional
platforms to define both the
aesthetics and ideology of
documentary in the pre-television era
of the 1930’s and early 1940’s.
In this context, it is worth noting that
Grierson’s professional role was primarily that
of a producer rather than that of a
filmmaker. Aside from being a keen judge and
manager of cinematic talent, Grierson
had an extraordinary ability to convince powerful
decision makers to support and
finance his documentary projects. [16]Grierson
also
understood the importance of film distribution
in an era when film was the dominant
communications medium and managed to get
Hollywood studios to pay to show his
documentaries
in their movie theatres during World War II.
II.3.2. Grierson’s Media Philosophy
Born in 1898 in Kilmadock, Scotland, Grierson
grew up in a family of middle class
educators; his father was a
schoolmaster, and his mother a teacher. He served in the British Navy during
World War I and was demobilized in 1918 with a British War Medal and a Victory
Medal. After the war, Grierson studied at the University of Glasgow, graduating in 1923 with a Master
of Arts Degree in English and Moral Philosophy.After he graduated, Grierson
was the recipient of a Rockefeller
Research Fellowship to study what
was then called the psychology of propaganda at the
University of Chicago under the tutelage of Walter Lippman, author of Public Opinion [17](1922),
and already a major force in American media and politics.
During
World War I, Lippman had worked with Edward Bernays, to sell the war to
the American people. According
to Mark Crispin Miller, Professor of
Media Studies at
New York University, the term propaganda was virtually unknown
prior to World War I,
when both sides began to employ the term to disparage what they
saw as lies being
disseminated about them by the enemy.[18] After the war, the winners were able to
describe
their own efforts as Public
Information, while labelling the enemy’s efforts as
propaganda, and, as a result, the term propaganda acquired
an almost exclusively
negative connotation in the Western world. In an effort to rehabilitate what he
saw as a neutral technical term, Bernays wrote his 1928 book Propaganda, but when
he later began to create strategic communications plans for the
Rockefellers and other
corporate clients, even Bernays began eschew the term propaganda, and
instead
created the euphemism engineering
consent. Ultimately, Bernays became popularly
known in corporate circles as the father of public relations.[19]
Under Lippman’s tutelage, Grierson’s
media philosophy evolved. While
Lippman primarily worked in print, Grierson soon began to see film as
the ideal medium
for propaganda. It is worth noting that in his private writing on the American
motion
picture industry, Grierson expressed ambivalence. While he appreciated the power of the
Hollywood industry, he seemed to abhor Hollywood product: “In an age when the faiths,
the loyalties,
and the purposes have been more than usually undermined, mental fatigue –
or is it spiritual fatigue? – represents
a large factor in everyday experience. Our cinema
magnate does no more than exploit the
occasion. He also, more or less frankly,
is a dope
pedlar (sic)…”[20]
Regardless, Grierson clearly
saw the importance of the Hollywood film distribution
system, and his ambivalence
did not prevent the precocious Grierson from visiting
Hollywood when he became head of the National Film Board of Canada to
convince
studio moguls to show his documentaries before the regular features, and
to even
ultimately pay the Canadians for the privilege. When America joined the
Allied War Effort
after December, 1941, Grierson was
able to enlist Hollywood support for his war efforts.[21]
While Grierson was beginning
to see documentary as a powerful educational tool for
what Lippman called manufacturing
consent, he seemed less concerned
with documentary
aesthetics. His focus was on message, and the key means of conveying
that message for
Grierson was the spoken word, with the image playing a supporting role. The
question of
how to generate audience interest seemed to be an issue of lesser importance.
In
this context, it is worth noting that Grierson’s own political views were enigmatic.
The 1930’s were
a time of great political turbulence, and, as a government civil servant,
Grierson carefully avoided allegiances to any extreme. As he himself famously said, he
always tried to
be “one inch to the left of the party in
power…”[22].When
it came to filming
the lives of
ordinary people in the United Kingdom in the early days of the Great
Depression,
Grierson was
ahead of his time, and some even considered him politically progressive.
However, Canadian
Grierson biographer Joyce Nelson, has
a different view: “Grierson, at least until the end of World
War II, was actually a champion of emergent
multinational capitalism and that he used the medium of film as a public
relations vehicle to convey the wisdom and the necessity of accepting the new economic order that would come to typify the
new postwar world…”[23]
.
Contemporary Canadian cinema scholar,
Zoe Druick, seems to agree with Nelson: “Conversant
with ideas in marketing, government and the social sciences, Grierson was
clearly influenced by ideas about communication and citizenship in the welfare
state…In Grierson’s view, propaganda could be used to educate citizens about
the objectives of the state and their role within the national project. He
seemed little bothered by the contradictions this posed for democracies…”[24]
In short, these two
Canadian scholars conclude that Grierson’s primary role as a documentarian was
that of a professional using the film medium to create support both for
government policies and the status quo, as well as the Allied War effort in
World War II. During the war, Grierson had the Canadian Film Board churning out
films like The World in Action series
to both promote the war effort as well as preach “utopian brotherhood” and a glowing vision of the United Nations in
the future, with distribution in 5,000 American theatres and 900 Canadian theatres.
Seen in this
context, Grierson’s sudden fall from grace in the aftermath of World War II
must have been a bitter pill for him to swallow. Not only was there no evidence
that he had ever been a communist, but Grierson had, in fact, always been a
tireless advocate for the multinational corporate state.
II.3.3. The Gouzhenko Scandal
Unfortunately for Grierson, in the Cold War
politics of North America, guilt by association could suffice to ruin a life
and a career. For many Canadian civil servants, Grierson had always been an
outsider, and some of his Canadian colleagues resented his spectacular success and
his close relationship to Prime Minister
William McKenzie King. When Grierson’s
secretary Rose Linton and Grierson himself were mentioned by name in
incriminating documents given to the Canadian authorities by defecting Soviet
Embassy cipher clerk Igor Gouzhenko on
September 6, 1945, his political enemies pounced, and accused Grierson of
producing pro-Soviet propaganda films during the War, conveniently overlooking
the fact that the films were made when the USSR was a critical ally in the
Allied war effort. [25]
It seems Grierson had counted on his role as a
chief propagandist for the war effort rolling over into peacetime. This was a
major miscalculation; the rationale for the war effort had ended when peace
broke out on April 8, 1945, VE Day The retroactive political fallout from his
pro-Soviet films was serious. Grierson had enjoyed extraordinary creative
freedom, with complete editorial control of these films without any guidance from the Canadian
Ministry of External Affairs. This freedom came at a price; Grierson could be
held personally responsible and ultimately blamed for any content deemed politically
inappropriate.[26]
To make matters
worse, the documents handed over by Gouzhenko suggested there was an active Soviet espionage ring in
Canada seeking military and atomic secrets, and included this damning item: “…Research Council-report on the organization
and work. Freda to the Professor through Grierson…”
When Canadian investigators discovered that
Freda was, in fact, Grierson’s
secretary Frida Linton, and learned that the FBI had been keeping a file on
Grierson himself since 1942, Grierson was politically doomed. [27] His
fate was sealed when his old friend Ivor Montagu was arrested by British
authorities as a Soviet spy in 1946.
II.3.4. The Grierson Legacy
While the outcome
of the Gouzhenko investigation was officially inconclusive , Grierson was still
publicly interrogated and humiliated. [28]As
a result, he lost his position as Commissioner of the Canadian Film Board he
had created from scratch over the previous 6 years. This was only the beginning.
Thanks to American F.B.I Director, J.
Edgar Hoover, Grierson’s ambitious plans for a post-war career in the United
States as either UN Under Secretary
General for Public Information, or Chief
of CBS Television News, evaporated when he suddenly lost his America visa.[29] Based
upon his testimony in the Kellock-Teschereau hearings, Grierson seemed naively unaware
of the dire nature of his situation, and did not realize that his former
patron, Canadian Prime Minister Mackenzie King, reportedly now even considered
him a “communist sympathizer.”[30]
In a few short weeks, at age 48, John Grierson
had become a Cold War political pariah, and he was effectively exiled to a post
in Paris as Director of Public
Information for UNESCO, where he tried to export his ideas on documentary to former British colonies like India, Australia
and other Commonwealth countries .[31]
While Grierson was never able to regain the institutional power and prestige he
had enjoyed at the Empire Marketing Board
and The Canadian Film Board, his considerable legacy in documentary has
survived around the world through the many films he produced and his writings.[32] However,
rather than being the father of documentary, as
some have called him, I believe it would more accurate to describe John
Grierson as the father of institutional documentary.
II.4.1. Dziga Vertov
Thanks to the discovery of previously inaccessible films and
written materials after the collapse of the Soviet Union, there has been a
major re-evaluation of the historical and artistic importance of Dziga Vertov,
his work, and his theories.In his lifetime,
Vertov was overlooked by most Western film historians, who chose instead to
focus on the films and writings of Sergei Eisenstein.
The fact that Eisentstein enjoyed the approval of Soviet
dictator Joseph Stalin, while Vertov did not, was certainly a factor. Vertov had made many enemies in the 1920’s
with his sweeping denunciations of fiction cinema as a “bourgeois art form”. When his
patron Lenin died in 1924, his enemies saw a chance for revenge, and Vertov and
his films were subjected to withering ideological attacks by the communist
party hierarchy.[33]
As a result, during the 1930’s, Eisenstein’s films and writings were accessible
in the West, while Vertov’s generally were not. The Soviet authorities’
preference for Eisenstein had a definite impact.
For example,
although John Grierson seemingly shared Vertov’s views on the social important
of documentary. he curiously refused to acknowledge
any cinematic debt to Vertov and his Kino
Eye Manifesto. According to Russian cinema historian Jay Leyda, Grierson
acknowledged only the famous Soviet feature director Sergei Eisenstein as an
inspiration:” John Grierson’s work on the
American version of “Potemkin” lends veracity to the story that the British
documentary film movement was born from the last reel of “Potemkin”.[34]
British film critic Ivor Montagu, a
Grierson crony, handled the import of The
Man With a Movie Camera, which was
not shown in England until 1931.[35] We
now know that the film was not popular in the ruling Stalinist circles; we also
now know that that Montagu was, in fact, a Soviet spy during this period, so
there are grounds for questioning Montagu’s agenda .[36]
For example. after
the first screenings in Paris and Stuttgart in 1929, Vertov’s film received enthusiastic
responses from prominent European intellectuals, including German cinema
historian Siegfried Kracauer, who wrote,” Now
a new Russian film has arrived in Berlin that proves that the Russians have not
remained stuck at the level they have already reached…If Vertov’s film is more
than simply an isolated case, then it must be regarded as symptomatic of the
inroads universal human categories have made in Russia’s rigid political
thinking. “[37]
In contrast, when
The Man With a Movie Camera was
finally shown in England in 1931, Montagu criticized it for being stylistically
derivative of Berlin: Symphony of a Great
City (1927). [38]
Grierson’s evaluation of the film was more damning. The Man With a Movie Camera, he wrote,” is in consequence not a film at all; it is a snapshot album. There is
no story, no dramatic structure, and no special revelation of the Moscow it has
chosen as a subject. It just dithers about on the surface of life picking up
shots here and there, and everywhere, slinging them together as the Dadaists
used to sling together their verses, with an emphasis on the particular which
is out of relation to rational existence.”[39]
Grierson
was thus able to dismiss Vertov’s aesthetic and ideological significance, as
well as the relevance of Kino Eye for
the fledgling British documentary movement. As British cinema historian Jeremy
Hicks noted recently,” For Grierson, Vertov’s
film is all record, and no art. Therefore, in his terms, it is not
documentary.”[40]
Whatever Grierson’s motives for his
brusque rejection of a documentary now widely recognized as a masterpiece of
world cinema, it is safe to say that this rejection served his interests in his
own self-promotion as the founder of the documentary film genre. Indeed, his
harsh treatment of Vertov’s work was reminiscent of his equally brutal
denunciation of his former hero Robert Flaherty.
II.4.2. Vertov’s Media Philosophy
As mentioned
before, with the collapse of the Soviet Union, and the subsequent end of the
Cold War, we now finally have access to more of the films and the original
writings of Vertov and his contemporaries.
These films, along with his theoretical and practical writings provide
proof that Vertov was developing a documentary aesthetic and style in the
Soviet Union at least a decade before Grierson. Furthermore, the Vertov
documentary aesthetic and style have both withstood the test of time far better
than either that of Flaherty or Grierson.
A brief look at
Vertov’s professional career and achievements might be useful. In 1918, a young
man, then known as Denis Abel Kaufman, joined the newsreel department of the
Moscow Cinema Committee, and, in an overt homage to the Futurist group led by
the famous Soviet poet Vladimir Mayakovsky, he immediately changed his name to
Dziga Vertov, meaning “ spinning gypsy.” He initially worked as
an editor, churning out newsreels on the war between the Whites and the Reds,
and developing his skills and style.
In 1919, he met
Elizaveta Svilova, a colleague who became both his wife and his life-long
creative collaborator . In 1922, his brother Dennis joined him and became his first
cameraman. Inspired by the Bolshevik newspaper Pravda, Vertov developed his first original programs in 1922, the
weekly Kino Pravda. What
distinguishes the Kino Pravda from
previous newsreels was the use of editorial themes rather the mere recording of
events, and the use of creative editing to express those themes. [41]
Artistic or
poetic expression to convey political messages was accepted as the norm in
writing and painting at the time, and Vertov extended this approach to film,
even using Constructivist fonts for his intertitles.[42]During
this period, he also wrote two of his most well-known manifestos on the cinema:
We: Variant of a Manifesto , and Cine-Eyes: A Revolution.[43]These
manifestos reveal an awareness of the need to unite Constructivist theory with
the rapidly developing practice of film montage to convey a message and a story.
Vertov and
Elizaveta Svilova were arguably the world’s first documentary editors. In the
process, Vertov quickly learned what worked and what did not. For example, he
soon understood that politically stage-managed events were not cinematically
interesting. In his instructions to his cameramen, he wrote,” Temporarily avoid photographing parades and
funerals (we’ve had enough of them and they’re boring) and recordings of
meetings with an endless succession of orators cannot be conveyed on the screen.[44]”
While most contemporary documentarians
would agree with Vertov’s opinion on the soporific quality of filmed parades,
Vertov’s dislike for artifice went much further He categorically denounced all
dramatic film as theatrical and bourgeois – and, therefore, by implication, counter-revolutionary. In the
Soviet Union of the 1920’s calling or even implying that someone was a
counter-revolutionary was a serious charge. By making such charges, Vertov made
many enemies among his cinematic colleagues, including most notably, Sergei Eisenstein.
This alienation of his colleagues was to cost Vertov dearly.
Nonetheless, Vertov’s
theoretical documentary concept of Kino-
Eye (Cinema-Eye) was adopted by many subsequent generations of socially
engaged documentarians - perhaps most notably by the Cinema Verite movement
in France and the United States in the 1960’s.The Kino Eye philosophy
was summed up in a 1929 lecture delivered in Paris by Vertov himself: ‘The history of Cinema Eye has been a relentless struggle to modify
the course of world cinema, to achieve in cinema a new emphasis on the unplayed
film over the played film, to substitute the document for the mise--scene, to
break out of the proscenium of the theater and to enter the arena of life
itself.”[45]
Today, there can
be little doubt that, in terms of camerawork, editing and his pioneering
concept of visual literacy, Vertov was far ahead of both Flaherty and
Grierson. His body of work, ranging from
silent features like One Sixth of the
World (1926), The Eleventh Year (1928),
[46]and
the previously mentioned The Man With the
Movie Camera (1929), are all widely recognized today as examples of cinema
craft and artistry. Vertov also succeeded in making a more seamless transition
to sound than his peers. His sound features Enthusiasm:
Symphony of the Donbas(1931) and Three
Songs of Lenin ( 1934) are appreciated today for their creative
use of music, location recorded sound and interviews at a time when many others
were content to merely record a talking head.[47]
Ironically, it
was this dedication to the development of a new cinematic language that got Vertov
into trouble as the Stalinization of the Soviet arts scene ushered in an
aesthetically regressive period in the late 1920’s. For Soviet Constructivists
and Futurists like Vertov, Mayakovsky, author Yevgeny Zamyatin, and other
artists, artistic stasis led to biological entropy, which, in turn, led eventually
to the death of the biological system in question. While this Futurist
philosophy had made them enthusiastic supporters of the Communist Party and the
Russian Revolution in its early stages, after Lenin’s death in 1924, this same
worship of change set them on a collision course with Stalin and his supporters.
Stalin’s goal
was the polar opposite of the Futurist goals: consolidation of power with an
absolute minimum of change – in short, the very state of cultural entropy the
Futurists hated. Like Lenin, Stalin took a great interest in the Soviet film
industry. However, it was soon clear that, unlike Lenin, he did not like
documentary. There were several reasons. First of all, Stalin wanted to create
a cult of personality around himself; unstaged documentary portrayals of him
might be far too revealing, and Stalin had both bad skin and an arm deformed
from an old injury. As a result, Stalin preferred to keep his appearances on
camera to a minimum; instead, he should only be heroically portrayed by suitably attractive actors in well scripted fiction films in the classic Hollywood style.
There was also the cost factor; documentary film productions
had an unavoidably high shooting ratio, often of 20:1 or more, and were
therefore expensive to produce. To make matters even worse, quality film stock
was hard to find in the Soviet Union. A well-scripted fiction film, on the
other hand, might have a shooting ratio of as low as 4:1. Ultimately, under
Stalin’s strict guidance, the Soviet communist party finally reached the
conclusion that the value of any film was its ideological content and aesthetic
considerations were, at best, secondary. All documentary production was to be terminated.
[48]
In this context,
it is interesting to note that the Soviets’ bitter ideological rivals, the
National Socialists of Germany, reached similar conclusions regarding their own
propaganda efforts. While Leni Riefenstahl’s films Triumph of The Will (1934) and Olympiad
(1938) achieved international acclaim for extraordinary cinematic quality,
it seems that both Hitler and Goebbels, like Stalin, were
big fans of Hollywood, and the Nazi leadership agreed that the ideal
vehicle for propaganda and communicating political messages to the general
population was the fiction entertainment film, rather than the documentary. In retrospect, both the Soviets and Nazis were
correct in one sense; today, most media professionals would agree that the
political content in a well-crafted Hollywood film like Casablanca
is more effectively delivered than that
delivered by any documentary. When a film aggressively advocates a given
position, the viewer instinctively raises defense mechanisms. For that reason,
the most effective propaganda is often the film which does not appear to be
propaganda at all.
Accordingly, in
the Soviet Union, by 1931, documentarians like Vertov began to be referred to
by the pejorative term documentalists , and
communist party hacks called for the complete destruction of documentalism, which was accused of being Formalist and Trotskyist –
both potentially fatal epithets at the time. Undaunted, Vertov made a brave
defense of his documentary aesthetics in his essay On Documentary and Documentalists (1931):
“Question: What is
the difference between newsreel, Cine-Eye, documentary and unplayed film?
Answer: There is no
difference. These are different definitions of one and the same branch of
cinema production: it is ‘newsreel’, which points to its continuous link with
the accumulation of the current material of newsreel; it is Cine-Eye, which
points to the recording of this newsreel material armed with the cine-camera,
the Cine-Eye; it is documentary, which points to it being genuine, to the
authenticity of the accumulated material; it is unplayed, which points to
actors being unnecessary, to acting being unnecessary in the production of this
kind of film.”[49]
Vertov’s last major work was Three Songs of Lenin (1934), ostensibly
an homage to the legacy of the founder of the Soviet Union using 3 different
musical movements. While the subject of Lenin doubtless provided ideological
camouflage, Vertov manages to make the first song a powerful statement celebrating
the demise of chador, or the veil, in
the predominantly Muslim new Soviet republics to the South. The film was
praised by experts on Soviet film like Jay Leyda, and was popular abroad. [50]However,
the film was not well received by the all-important communist party hierarchy; apparently
Stalin himself objected to the portrayal of Lenin, and few dared question
Stalin’s authority on ideological matters. [51]
There was now blood in the water, and Vertov’s ideological
and aesthetic enemies saw their opportunity to get their revenge on their
former critic, and even former supporters like Sergei Eisenstein joined the
chorus to denounce Vertov for having “formalist
and documentalist tendencies.” Ultimately, the
greatest Soviet documentarian was forced to return to where he began his career
- producing pedestrian propaganda newsreels in relative obscurity until his
death in 1954. Given the ideological climate of the times, one might say Vertov
was lucky to survive with his life.[52]
II.4.3. The Vertov Legacy
The Vertov legacy
in documentary is extensive, and is still growing today. In the
1960’s, for example, Vertov was recognized as the inspiration of the cinema verite movement in the 1960s that
used new light-weight cameras and equipment to show the world in ways it had
never been shown before; the name cinema
verite itself is a direct translation of
Kino Pravda. The French New
Wave director Jean-Luc Godard was also a great admirer of Vertov for his
ability to fuse political statement with artistic creativity, and started La Groupe Dziga Vertov in 1968 with
several colleagues to make political films following the example set by Vertov
with Kino Pravda almost half a
century earlier. However, his appeal is not limited to the French nouvelle vague and practitioners of cinema verite.
Anyone
interested in the potential of cinema and cinematic language has found useful
ideas and observations in Vertov’s works and writings. Vertov’s Futurist faith
in technology also resonates today. In addition to dynamic change, the
Futurists adored modern technology, and Vertov worshipped the film camera and
explored its potential in ways few have ever done. He took his camera on
trains, boats, cars and trains, and even underneath trains. He showed intimate
moments of daily life in public places with hidden cameras, experimented with
pixilation and reverse motion, and even had reflexive shots of his camera
operator. [53]
Vertov’s
contribution to documentary aesthetics is also significant, His documentary
feature, The Man with a Movie Camera is still admired as a creative
masterpiece, and, most recently, was voted 8th best film of all time in the 2012 Sight and Sound poll.[54]
This poll included all film genres – fiction, as well as documentary. In the 21st
century, cinema historians are rediscovering the works and writings of Vertov; after
the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990’s many of his films were
found, and are now available to see on YouTube and elsewhere in the Western
world. English translations of his
writings are also now available to the general public.[55]
New Media
scholars like Lev Manovich and Andreas Kratky of Massachusetts Institute of
Technology have named Vertov as the inspiration for their recent
experiments in Database
Cinema. Manovich even
opens his book “The Language of New Media”
with a prologue dedicated to Vertov:” The
avant-garde masterpiece Man with a Movie Camera completed by Russian director Dziga Vertov in 1929, will serve as our
guide to the language of new media.”[56]
II.5. Some
Important Documentarians from the 1930’s and 1940’s
The 1930’s were a time of
great economic and political turbulence, and, like Vertov and Grierson, many organizations
employed the film medium to make political statements in the form of Newsreel, which[57] played an important role
disseminating propaganda for both sides in World War I. The advent of synchronized sound and the
proliferation of motion picture theatres made film the dominant medium for
communications in the 1930’s and synchronized sound systems became the standard
in the Western world. In much of the Western world, cinemas projected Newsreels with what John Grierson
called Direct Address voice-overs to show highlights of current events before the feature
entertainment. [58] The Direct
Address Newsreel was
essentially radio with pictures, with an institutional Voice of God didactically blaring out the company line over some
generic images, which were sometimes staged or even recycled from fiction
entertainment films. [59] [60]
Today, it is safe to say that the Direct Address narration has fallen into
disfavor with audiences around the world.
In the words of American cinema scholar Michael Renov,”As described by countless critics, the
voice-over has, in recent decades, been deplored as dictatorial, the Voice of
God; it imposes an omniscience bespeaking a position of absolute knowledge.”[61]
There were several filmmakers who made
documentaries during the 1930’s and 1940’s distinctly different from these
pedestrian newsreels. While some of these filmmakers, like Luis Bunuel and John
Huston, are better known for their dramatic films, their documentary films were
of importance to the development of the documentary genre.
II.5.1. Luis Bunuel
The first was the Spanish director Luis
Bunuel. After making the surrealist classics Un Chien Andalou (1929) and
L’Age D’Or ( 1930), with Salvador Dali in France,
Bunuel returned to his native Spain to make a documentary about a remote
and impoverished region called Las Hurdes (1933). Bunuel said the film was inspired by an ethnographic study of
the region, but unlike the ethnographic documentarian Robert Flaherty, Bunuel
never allowed his camera to flinch when confronted with human misery or physical
hardship.
In his autobiography, My Last Sigh,
Bunuel said
he had originally intended the film as a critique of Spain’s then Republican
government, but, when he decided to join that government to help fight the
invading forces of General Francisco Franco, he changed the title to Las Hurdes,
Terra sin Pan, and transformed the film into an expose of the social conditions the Republican government
planned to improve. [62] Las Hurdes was Bunuel’s only known venture
into documentary; after making the film, he devoted himself to the Republican
cause against Franco.
When World War II broke out, he moved his family to the United States to
help make propaganda films for the Allied war effort. When his old friend Salvador Dali denounced
him as a communist. Bunuel was forced to move to Mexico, where he managed to
resurrect his career with a series of feature films that ultimately made him
one of the icons of world cinema.[63]
Today, Las Hurdes remains a powerful documentary of human beings living life on the edge;
the style of the film is observational, in the ethnographic tradition of Flaherty.
Unlike Flaherty, however, Bunuel refuses to whitewash any social conditions, and
instead delivers a withering series of harsh facts with a highly effective
narration in a dry, deadpan style rather than a didactic or theatrical style.
Perhaps even more significant, Bunuel manages to treat his subjects with
respect, and the self-financed Las Hurdes has accordingly served as an inspiration for future generations of
socially conscious filmmakers as the first example of what might be called the Independent Ethnographic
documentary – a
documentary using an ethnographic approach to make a political statement.[64]
Some 20 years after making Las Hurdes, Bunuel described his
cinematic philosophy in an address to university students in Mexico City:“ Do not
think…that I am for a cinema exclusively dedicated to the expression of the
fantastic and the mysterious, for a cinema that flees from or despises daily
reality and aspires only to plunge us into the unconscious world of dreams. A
few moments ago I indicated all too briefly the capital importance I attach to
the film that deals with the fundamental problems of modern man, and so I must
emphasize here I do not consider man in isolation, not as a single case, but in
the context of other men.”[65]
II.5.2. Joris Ivens
In 1929, the Dutch documentarian Joris Ivens made
a 10-minute short titled Rain. It was not his first film, but today Rain is considered one of the
first examples of the poetic documentary – a documentary without
expository narrative, but built on a visual theme and impressions.[66] In Ivens’ own words: “When Rain was
finished and shown in Paris, the French critics called it cine-poeme, and its structure is actually
more than of a poem than the prose of The Bridge. Its object was to show the
changing face of Amsterdam during a shower…”[67]
Subsequently. Ivens
became more distinctly political after being invited by Soviet filmmaker
Vyacheslav Pudovlin to make a documentary about the new industrial
city of Magnitogorsk in the Soviet Union. The resulting film, Song of Heros
( 1932),
featured a sound track by the German composer Hanns Eisler, and was an
unabashed propaganda film for Stalin’s Five Year Plan.[68]On his return, Ivens
teamed with Belgian documentarian Henri Storck to make an expose of the lives
of Belgian coal miners titled Borinage (1934)[69].
Filmed
undercover, this documentary was banned in both Holland and
Belgium; however, thanks to the non-commercial distribution network created by
local CineClubs, Borinage was still seen widely.[70],
In 1935, Ivens moved to
the United States to work for Pare Lorentz’ US Film Service, to make documentaries to promote US President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s
programs of reform called The New Deal. However, when the Spanish Civil War broke out,
Ivens teamed with Ernest Hemingway and others to make an anti-fascist
propaganda film that was screened for President Roosevelt at the White House in
1937. This Spanish Earth featured a narration by Hemingway, and a
musical score by Virgil Thompson and Marc Blitzstein, and funding came from American cultural notables from New
York and Hollywood, including Franchot Tone, Frederic March. Lilian Hellman,
and others in a group known as The Contemporary Historians. The Roosevelts reportedly
liked the film, and Ivens became something of an American celebrity.[71]
Ivens’ next project, The 400
Million,(1939) took him to China to make
a film about the Chinese resistance to the Japanese invaders. Financing was
again provided by a group of Hollywood backers, led by actress Luise Rainer,
and Frederic March was the narrator. However, the film ran into a political minefield
when the Guomindang government of Chiang Kai-Chek felt the film presented too
favorable an image of the communist forces of Mao Zedong, and censored it
heavily during production in China.[72] Madame Chiang had
powerful friends in the United States, and the resulting film was not the film
Ivens wanted to make. In the words of documentary historian Erik Barnouw: “As an
explanation of the upheavals in China, the film had limited value. As testimony
on the horrors of modern war, it provided unforgettable moments...”[73]
After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,
American Director Frank Capra, newly appointed head of the American Why We Fight
series
to promote the American war effort, enlisted Ivens to produce an anti-Japanese
film titled Know Your Enemy- Japan, and Ivens ran into
another political minefield. Know Your Enemy – Japan was completed in 1944,
but was never distributed. According to Ivens, the Americans could not decide
on whether or not to depict Japanese Emperor Hirohito as a war criminal, and
ultimately Cold War politics made them decide not to distribute the film at
all.[74]
Ivens then returned to Europe to make a
film for the Dutch government about the upcoming but contentious independence
of their colony of Indonesia. When it became clear to the Dutch that Ivens was
working on a pro-Indonesian version of the film called Indonesia
Calling, they
were furious, and called Ivens a traitor. Ivens then released his
film in a short version.[75], and smuggled it to the
Indonesians fighting for their independence.
Subsequently, Ivens continued to focus on Asian political subjects, and
teamed up with French colleagues to make The 17th Parallel (1967) about North Vietnam
at war, and The People and Their Guns (1970), about the secret
American war in Laos.[76][77]With a long career dedicated
to making films to promote left-wing causes like social justice and international
liberation struggles, Ivens might be described as both an institutional
and an independent
documentarian. His production strategy of using his work for governments and
corporations to finance his independent work has become standard practice for many
documentarians today.
II.5.3. Leni Riefenstahl
German filmmaker Leni
Riefenstahl’s controversial Triumph of the Will (1935) lies at the opposite end
of the ideological spectrum from Joris Ivens’s and Luis Bunuel’s films. Ostensibly
the documentation of a Nazi party congress
in Nuremberg, the film was widely praised as a masterpiece of technical
perfection when initially released in the 1930’s, and then banned for years in some countries after the end of
World War II because it was considered so inflammatory.
Unlike Ivens and Bunuel, Riefenstahl was
never forthcoming about her intentions with the film. For example, in
Ray Muller’s fascinating documentary biography The Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl (1993) Riefenstahl stubbornly insists that she
was just an artist providing a visual record of the event. When an incredulous Muller points out she had
enjoyed extraordinary access to Hitler, and that the entire event appears
meticulously staged just for her. Riefenstahl remains adamant that the film was
just a work for hire. [78] However, the film itself contradicts her many
denials. For example, the opening credits read: “Produced by Order of the
Fuhrer/Directed by Leni Riefenstahl…”[79]
In terms of cinematic style, it is also worth
noting that the film has no narration or voice-over; the only speakers are
Hitler and other Nazi leaders speaking on camera. Otherwise, the film consists
of images cut to music with sound effects. While Riefenstahl reportedly
considered any commentator as “an enemy of film,”[80]American
critic Susan Sontag argued that the film “has no commentary because it
doesn’t need one, for Triumph of The Will represents an already achieved and
radical transformation of realty: history become theater…”[81]
Today, a study of
the film reveals that every camera angle and camera movement is impeccable,
just as every person shown is a perfect physical specimen. Indeed, a strong
case could be made that the entire rally at Nuremberg was staged by Albert
Speer for Riefenstahl, since Muller reveals that she had shot the same event
the year before in the less well-known The
Victory of the Faith(1933).[82]
What with all this staging, The Triumph
of the Will is arguably not even a documentary at all; rather, with 30
cameras and a crew of 172, one might say it is one of the most extravagant political commercials ever made. In
spite of a massive release and overwhelmingly positive reviews, the film was
apparently not that popular in Germany. [83]
In what proved to be the ultimate irony, the material in the film proved to be
very useful for anyone making an anti-Nazi propaganda film, and was used
extensively for that purpose.[84]
On the other hand, Riefenstahl’s magnificent Olympia (1936), about the 1936 Berlin Olympics, was a worldwide
hit. While the technical perfection of
the mise-en-scene and the camerawork
are exquisite, there is also real drama with real sporting events with real
competition, and there are some genuine surprises, like the victory of the
American Jessie Owens.[85]
The legacy of
Leni Riefenstahl remains controversial. For example, some critics like, Sontag,
have noted Riefenstahl’s persistent obsession with strong male bodies in her
German films, as well as in her later photographic books on the people of Nubia
in the Sudan. In this context, it seems only fair to note that Riefenstahl
became the first foreigner to be awarded honorary Sudanese citizenship by the
Sudanese government for her efforts to document their people.
As can be seen in
contemporary commercials for Calvin Klein underwear, Riefenstahl’s aesthetics
are influential even today For
students of documentary and cinema, Riefenstahl and her work raise many
difficult questions; at the very least, they provide important case studies for
anyone seeking to understand the nature of cinematic propaganda, as well as the
political responsibilities of an artist. Unrepentant to the end of her long life, Leni
Riefenstahl remains an enigma.[86]
II.6. World War II
While
television had been invented prior to World War II, the television medium was
too primitive and to play any role in the massive propaganda efforts mobilized
by the warring powers. And even if television production had been more
sophisticated, the lack of television sets in all the Western countries would
have made television too exclusive to be practical. Instead, the warring powers
devoted all their resources to the production of propaganda films which would
arouse patriotic fervor and get citizens to support the war effort
uncritically.
Perhaps the most
famous of these efforts was the afore-mentioned Why We Fight series
produced by the Hollywood director Frank Capra. Known for his popular comedies
like It’s a Wonderful Life, Capra might have seemed like an odd choice,
but he did have a track record for successfully reaching American audiences,
and he knew how to pluck American heart strings.
II.6.1. John Huston
The critically acclaimed Hollywood director
John Huston was one of Capra’s recruits, and Capra gave him three assignments: Report from
the Aleutians (1942), The Battle for San Pietro (1944), and Let There be
Light (1945).
When Capra’s bosses, the generals in the War Department, saw the films, they
were not happy. For example, The Battle for San Pietro showed the unfiltered
realities of the life of an American foot soldier, and the generals were
uncomfortable with those realities. According to Huston, one general said,” This picture
is pacifistic. It’s against the war. Against war…” Huston replied, “Well, sir,
whenever I make a picture that’s for war – why, I hope you take me out and shoot me.”[87]
The general demanded
cuts, and then decided not to release the film until the war was almost over. The
third film, Let There Be Light, proved to be even harder
for the generals to swallow. The army wanted a film to show that soldiers
suffering from what today would be called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder were “not
lunatics”, so
Huston had filmed rehabilitation sessions at an army hospital with hidden cameras. Huston
described the results as “the most hopeful and optimistic thing I ever had a
hand in” but the army did not share his
enthusiasm, and banned the film for showing to any audience except to
psychiatrists.[88]
Clearly,
Huston, ever the serious artist and humanitarian, had shown more of the true
nature of war than the generals could swallow. In short, he had done his job as
a documentarian too well, and the films today are respected as documentaries
showing the human cost of war.[89]
II.6.2. Humphrey Jennings
With a cadre of talented
documentarians trained before the war in the G.P.O Film Unit of John Grierson, the Crown Film
Unit produced
some of the best documentaries of the war. Perhaps the most talented of all was
Humphrey Jennings, who made several excellent documentaries about the British
home front, including Listen to
Britain, (1942) perhaps
Jennings’ most extraordinary cinematic achievement. While his supervisors and
colleagues were opting for more traditional wartime propaganda, Listen to
Britain is an
audio-visual mosaic of British life during wartime, without narration or
commentary.
Jennings allows the sound and images to speak
for themselves, and the result is a poignant and powerful poetic portrait of moments
in the lives of ordinary people trying to live ordinary lives against all odds.
In a 1954 article for the British magazine Sight and Sound, [90]director Lindsay Anderson
later called Jennings “the only real poet the British cinema has produced.” [91]
II.7 The Rise of Television
The post-World War II economic boom led to big
changes on many home fronts in the Western world, with many implications for
visual media, including documentary. The US Information Agency, which had
produced the Why We Fight series and other wartime propaganda was
closed, and suddenly documentarians were forced to cope with a radically
different production environment.
For example, the theatrical Newsreel lasted only until the early 1950’s , when it was completely replaced by television
news broadcasts; while the image quality of television was grainy black and white, and
the sound quality was limited by quality of the monitor, and was generally
poor, television had the attraction of seeming to be in real time, and looking at a
television in your own home was far more convenient than going to a movie
theatre. This reality had a devastating
effect on the extensive non-theatrical 16 millimeter educational distribution networks set up in
Anglophone countries during the Second World War; thanks to the development of
16 millimeter cameras like the German Arriflex, 16 millimeter had become the
format of choice for both Allied and Axis combat photographers during the war.[92]
The initial problems for documentary on
television after World War II were both financial and technical. First of all,
commercial television had little interest in broadcasting documentaries without
obvious commercial value as popular entertainment. By nature, documentary films tended to be far too serious to be
entertaining, so they were not considered commercial.
In addition, American commercial
television stations did not want to broadcast any films that might upset any of
their commercial sponsors, and documentaries had a reputation for exposing
embarrassing social problems. As a result, American commercial television
stations neither produced nor broadcast documentaries. Documentarians could
seek corporate sponsorship, but such sponsorship invariably meant control of content. As analog
film documentaries were notoriously expensive to produce, this meant it was
harder to find funding for independent documentaries after the end of the war.
In both Europe and the United States, some oil companies like Shell Oil took
the initiative to support productions they could endorse, and Robert Flaherty
received backing from Standard Oil of New Jersey for his last documentary Louisiana
Story (1948) a tale of a Cajun boy
growing up in the Louisiana bayous.[93]
The technical challenges posed by
television were no less serious. The poor black-and-white image made it
difficult to tell visual stories on television, which relied heavily instead on
presenters to present news stories
orally. Perhaps the best, and most famous of the American presenters was Edward
R. Murrow. A popular and respected war correspondent during World War II,
Murrow created See It Now, a television news program, with Fred Friendly
for the CBS Network in 1951, with the aluminum company Alcoa as sponsor. Thanks to his
stature within CBS, Murrow enjoyed more freedom and independence than most of
his colleagues.
In 1953, Murrow bravely broadcast a
historic series of documentaries on the Senator Joseph McCarthy, the demagogue
who had been terrorizing the American body politic for several years with his
witch hunts on alleged communists in the government, in the entertainment
industry, and elsewhere. No one had dared to confront Senator McCarthy before
Murrow, and the three hour-length broadcasts had a dramatic impact.
The furious McCarthy demanded to be given
time on CBS to reply, but he never recovered, and was finally censured by the
US Senate for his misconduct. His power broken, McCarthy died suddenly in 1957.[94]Ironically, rather than
launch more independent television news programs like See It Now, CBS and the other
networks quietly chose to discontinue them and replace them with safer fare,
like Westerns. In the words of documentary historian Erik Barnouw, “McCarthyism,
without McCarthy, was winning.”[95]
11.7.1. Alain Resnais
One of the key ethical and aesthetic questions
for documentarians was how should a responsible documentarian deal with a subject
like The Holocaust. French director Alain Resnais offered an evocative but powerful
answer with his documentary Night and Fog (1956). Today, many think this is the best
film ever made on the subject of The Holocaust.[96]
Resnais
later described his intentions in making the film: “If one does not forget, one can nether live nor
function. The problems arose for me when I made Nuit et Brouillard. It was not
a question of making yet another war memorial, but
of thinking of the present and of the future. Forgetting ought to be
constructive…”[97]
II.7.2. Ricky Leacock
According to Aufderheide, the roots of the cinema verite movement lay in an
anti-authoritarian reaction to World War II. One of the first indications was
Britain’s Free Cinema movement in the
1950’s. [98]Led by
Lindsay Anderson, Tony Richardson and Karel Reisz, Free Cinema reacted
against Griersonian didacticism by showing daily lives of ordinary citizens
without editorializing.[99]
A few years
later, thanks in large part to the development of lightweight 16 mm cameras in
World War II, and the crystal synch cordless sound system created by Ricky Leacock
and his colleagues in the early 1960’s in the United States, cinema verite (also known as ‘direct cinema’) enjoyed a vogue in the
United States and France. The new equipment granted cinematic access
to new facets of human existence, and purists insisted that this depiction
appear as unadulterated as possible. While the French cinema verité documentarians
and the American direct cinema documentarians had differences, generally
cinema verite purists decreed that
all sound had to be diegetic, or recorded live, and any uses of narration or music that had not been recorded
live were violations of the cinema verite
code. The very name cinema verite is
an homage by the French documentarian Jean Rouch to the Kino Eye of Dziga Vertov. Ricky Leacock’s own description of cinema verite :“What is it we filmmakers are doing, then? The closest I can come to an
accurate definition is that the finished film- photographed and edited by the
same filmmaker- is an aspect of the filmmaker’s perception of what happened.
This is assuming that he does no directing. No interference…”[100]
II.8. The Post-Modern Debate on
Documentary
The recent rediscovery
of Vertov and his ideas of documentary by a new generation of digital film and
media scholars has come after two decades of debate on the true nature of
documentary by a generation of
academicians popularly known as the Post-Moderns. In an attempt to mediate and create some order
in this often contentious debate, University of Indiana Professor Bill Nichols
has posited that there are three ‘commonsense
assumptions’ in all documentaries:
“1. Documentaries
are about reality; they’re about something that actually happened.
2. Documentaries are about real people.
3. Documentaries stories about what happens in the
real world.[101]”
While Nichols’s “commonsense assumptions” seem reasonable
enough, one of the problems in his assumptions is that the definition of
reality itself has been a classic conundrum for philosophers since ancient
times. Scientific discoveries in the 20th centuries constantly
forced us to radically re-assess our perceptions of reality. We are now limited
to defining our reality as the currently accepted scientific definition of that
reality, fully aware that the definition may soon be subject to modification.
In the world of
cinema, the issue of what constitutes accurate or acceptable portrayal of
reality has been a hot potato since newsreels recreated historical events for
the camera in the earliest days of the cinema. In 1898, travel was expensive
and time-consuming, so staging the sinking of the battleship Maine in Havana
harbor in some bathtub in New York made perfect sense, at least from a
producer’s point of view. At that time, there were no ethical standards for documentary,
since the ethics of the medium had yet to be defined.
Today, of course,
if a news correspondent is reporting from Baghdad, he or she has to physically
be in Baghdad, and not in, say, New York or London with a digital green screen
backdrop. Similarly, if a Richard Attenborough BBC special on wildlife
intersperses, without a disclaimer, images of animals shot in zoos with the
same animals in the wild, there is a major scandal, and the BBC has to promise
to identify all faked scenes on air, and, to never to do it again.[102]
Simultaneously,
contemporary educational channels like The
History Channel (and others) are now full of dramatic re-enactments of
historical events, and few object. It would appear, then, that some
re-enactment is tolerable, as long as it is acknowledged, and not
deceptive. Nichols addresses this issue
when he elaborates on his first assumption:” Documentary films speak about actual situations or events and honor
known facts; they do no introduce new, unverifiable ones. They speak directly
about the historical world, rather than the allegorical one.”[103]
It might appear that Nichols accepts the
re-staging of events, as long as they honor “known facts”, but then, in his clarification of his second
assumption, he writes,” Documentaries are about real people who do
not play or perform roles.”[104]
Here, it would
appear he has ruled out re-enactment, but again, Nichols employs subjective
terms such as “real”, not to mention “play or perform roles”. He then
observes that Robert Flaherty’s Nanook of the North (1922) ‘can be said to be one gigantic
reenactment, yet it retains significant documentary qualities.”[105]
According to
Nichols’ own stated criteria, it might seem that Nanook of the North would not therefore qualify as a documentary.
Perhaps Nichols is showing due deference to an iconic figure in American
documentary history in his treatment of Flaherty, but he also might be accused
of employing inconsistent criteria. As noted, terms like “real” are highly subjective. A classic cinematic response comes from
the late great Italian director Federico Fellini when he was castigated by
ideologues for apparently abandoning the Neorealist
ethic in films like La Dolce Vita (1960) and 8
½(1963):’ Realism is a bad word. In a
certain sense, everything is realistic. I see no dividing line between
imagination and reality. I see a great deal of reality in imagination.”[106]
So where does this leave documentary? In
academic circles in Western Europe and the United States, the post-modern
critique of photography and other depictions of reality have generated considerable
debate. In Collecting Visible Evidence, for
example, cinema scholar Jane M.
Gaines summarized the post-modern
position when she wrote that there is no “real”
world to depict, and that the only reality that we can be sure exists are the
images that the artist has created. Hence, for Gaines, “true” documentary becomes impossible.[107]
However, for the broadcaster, the
documentarian, and the media consumer, there is another, larger , context to
consider: our collective consciousness and our collective understanding of that
reality. Patricia Aufderheide, former Board
Member of the Independent Television Service in the United States and Founder-Director of the Center for Social
Media of American University in Washington, D.C., offers this perspective :
“Reality is not what is out there, but
what we know, understand and share with each other of what is out there. Media affect the most important real estate
of all, that which is inside your head. Documentary is an important
reality-shaping communication because of its claims to truth.”[108]
In
other words, the relationship between
the reality being represented in a work of art, such as a documentary, should
not be conflated with the internal realities in the minds of the viewers
consuming that documentary. They are separate, and distinct realities,
although not mutually exclusive. In this context, it is important to remember
that documentaries do not pretend to be objective
depictions of reality, but are instead subjective
artistic impressions of reality. Most documentarians today would agree with
their colleagues Pamela Yates and Paco deOnis when they say that, “ We give equal weight to being artists as
well as human rights defenders…The power and beauty of cinema are our artistic
and political tools. Our canvas is global; our palette, the human condition…”[109]
The rapid growth of what Manovich and
others call New Media in the
beginning of the 21st century has eclipsed the questions raised by Post Modern scholars as we are being forced
to confront the realities and implications of the Digital Age. Perhaps it is now time, with the sudden introduction
of New Media, to re-examine the
legacy of Dziga Vertov to see if it can provide the criteria for creating a
practical, operational definition for
documentary.
II.9. Towards an Operational Definition of
Documentary
The reasoning for seeking an Operational Definition stems from
necessity, since defining documentary according to content, as some have done,
is simply intellectually and logically impossible. As we have already seen, such
a definition is based on completely subjective variables. For example, British post-modern documentary theorist Stella
Bruzzi caps an intellectual broadside against fellow documentary theorists
Linda Williams , Erik Barnouw, Michael Renov and Brian Winston with the
following assertion :”all documentaries
are inherently doomed to failure…Too
often in the past documentary was seen to have failed (or to be in imminent
danger of failing) because it could not be decontaminated of its
representational quality.”[110]
There are fundamental flaws in Bruzzi’s
argument. First of all, she is unable to quote any documentarian saying that it
is his or her creative goal to objectively
represent reality, and therefore can present no empirical support for her
thesis. The reason for this is simple: there are
no documentarians of note who have ever said such a thing.
Secondly,
Bruzzi also asserts in this context that it is impossible for a documentarian
to record a subject without the subject being unaware of the process. This
statement is demonstrably untrue, and is contradicted by the writings and work
of Vertov, who frequently employed hidden camera techniques to catch his
subjects “off guard. ”In his Cine Eyes Field Manual, Vertov writes, ”Filming unawares – an old military rule;
gauging, speed, attack”…
Vertov
then goes on to list 8 different ways in which the subject can be filmed
unawares.[111]
A more contemporary example of a
documentarian using a hidden camera can be found in Danish Mads Brugger’s
lively documentary The Ambassador (2012),[112]
in which the director manages to purchase a position as an ambassador from
Liberia to the Central African Republic to see if he can buy conflict diamonds.
Much of the action involves interaction between the fake ambassador and local
dignitaries – all recorded with hidden camera.
In
other words, Bruzzi has based her argument on a false premise.
As has been
shown, the issue of documentary’s representation of reality has been an
intellectual challenge to a generation of academic documentary theorists, who,
in the words of historical documentary researcher Dirk Eitzen, have,” tended to devote their energies to showing
how documentaries are constructed or artificial or ‘fictive’.” [113]
Eitzen
echoes the views of Patricia Aufderheide when he suggests that these
documentary theorists might be better served if they considered the social
impact on audiences of widely seen and well made historical documentaries such
as Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah (1985)[114] and Ken Burns’ Civil War (1990).[115] : “Philosophically speaking, reality and
our representations of it are truly ‘incommensurate’. Practically speaking,
however, documentarians do have the power to really put us in touch with our
reality – just as “really”, that is, as our senses put us in touch with
reality. We can never know reality, it is true, but we can very definitely know
certain things about it. Evolution has guaranteed this.”[116]
With
the rapid growth of digital technology in documentary, notions of what is and
what is not acceptable representation are changing as well. Therefore, it would
perhaps be more practical to avoid altogether such highly charged issues such
as what constitutes representation and
what is the nature of reality when
seeking a workable definition of documentary.
If we are going to provide a clear and concise
definition of what is, and what is not, documentary, we need to focus on how
documentaries are made, rather than what they might or might not depict.
In
his classic book on documentary production, Directing
the Documentary, producer, Michael Rabiger
observes that the debate regarding the identity of documentary has largely
faded away among established filmmakers:” Except
for women’s and gay political issues, academics have largely taken over the arguments.
Little about the original debates has ever been settled, and the documentary
remains a minefield of temptations and possibilities, just as in the early
days... Documentary is a branch of the expressive arts, not a science.”[117]
Jack
C. Ellis and Betsy McLane, authors of A New History of Documentary Film, offer a
similar response to post-modern theorists like Bruzzi : “ However useful they may be for viewers seeking a deep understanding of
the films, the writings of film theorists are not very much a part of the world
of documentary making and watching.”[118]
American
cinema historian James Monaco would seem to agree when he avoids the
post-modern debate by proposing we distinguish between two basic styles of
cinema: Realist Cinema, in which what is most important happens in front
of the camera, and Expressionist
Cinema, in which what is most important
happens behind the camera. [119]
Any filmmaker
with scientific training is well aware of the humbling implications of Werner Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, which,
as Dr. Rudolf Carnap explains, has
forced us to accept that we live in an indeterminate world, where there is
never 100% certainty. Documentarians cannot capture objective truths; all the documentarian can do is to try to create personal truths following the
conventions of the documentary genre. Likewise,
there are also phenomena which we scientifically know to exist, but which are
too small or complex to measure accurately.[120]
Scientific phenomena that cannot be defined by their intrinsic essence, are sometimes defined according to how they are measured, in what are
called correspondent or operational
definitions.[121]
Let us now consider a possible operational
definition of documentary based
on what we shall call The Dziga Vertov
Documentary Canon:
1.Documentary is an expressive cinematic
art form which can contain images of anyone or anything, and looks at the
universe with a critical and creative eye.
2.Documentary
cannot contain any staged or dramatically re-created visual material. If there
is such material, it must be used overtly. Authenticity cannot be suggested
when there is none.
In reality,
few documentarians are absolute purists on this second point. As documentarians
and all practitioners of cinematic craft know well, there are few absolutes in
cinema; rather, one sets creative goals and then strives to achieve them as
best one can. Fidelity alone to a given set of rules does not determine the
success or failure of an artistic product. Indeed, the so-called failure may be
far more interesting than the supposed success. Therefore, this definition
should be seen more as providing stylistic
guidelines rather than laws etched in stone – along the lines of the Danish
Dogme-95 Manifesto, which created an
aesthetic without being doctrinaire.
What makes
Vertov particularly intriguing as a paradigm for the creation of an operational
definition of documentary is the dialectic between his theory and his practice
– the interplay between his writings and his extensive body of work. His
observations on documentary technique are very detailed, and appear to be
refreshingly honest. For example, he
himself confesses to some staging and manipulation in his work for practical
production purposes, noting that the goal should be to keep such staging or
manipulation to an absolute minimum. However, as a documentary producer and
director, Vertov was well aware that, when one has a job to do, one cannot
always be an absolutist; unlike a critic, sometimes it is necessary for a film
producer to compromise and break a few rules to get the job done.
The British documentary theorist Dai Vaughan offers this
version of Vertov’s Theory: “The
cine-camera is endowed with all the potentialities of human sight – and more...
The camera should, therefore, be used to record not the simulated emotions of
paid actors in locales created by the plasterer and the set-decorator, but the
authentic and unrehearsed behavior of real people in the streets and houses in
which we live. All artifice should be eliminated, except in the unavoidable
process of editing.”[122]
II.10. Testing
The Operational Definition of Documentary
For testing
purposes, now let us see how our operational definition would apply to the four
categories of documentary defined by Nichols in his essay, The Voice of Documentary.
II.10.1. The Direct Address Style of
the Griersonian Tradition
While there are always exceptions, a documentary shot in the Grierson
tradition would avoid employing dramatically re-enacted or re-staged material,
if at all possible. In a visual sense, then, the Griersonian style would fit
the operational definition of documentary as defined. A successful Grierson production would have
what Nichols would call an Expository
Style[123]with
well written poetic narration and an
excellent professional voice. The Night
Mail (1936 directed by Harry Watt
and Basil Wright, with a narration written by W.H. Auden, is a classic example.
The narration is suggestive, rather than dominant, and the story is told
visually.[124]
II.10.2. The
Cinema Verite Style
It is
important to note that some fundamental contradictions in cinema verite theory became apparent as the movement grew in
popularity. In the early 1960’s, there were two stylistic branches: the
American branch, known as Direct
Cinema, led by Leacock and John Drew, were staunch advocates of a very non-obstrusive, Fly-on-The-Wall approach,
while the French, led by Jean Rouch and Claude Morin, opted for a reflexive style, in which the filmmaker could be a
visible participant. There was also the issue, raised by Jean Luc Godard, of
open advocacy as opposed to apparent neutrality.
Some post-modern
academics entered the fray, accusing the proponents of Direct Cinema of making impossible claims of objectivity. American documentarian Fred Wiseman dismissed
this charge as: “ a lot of horseshit...My
films are totally subjective. The objective-subjective argument is from my
point of view, at least in film terms, a lot of nonsense. The films are my
response to a certain experience…”[125]
Regardless, the goal of making a fly-on-the-wall
recording of pure human behavior was ultimately proven to be an impossible
ideal by such productions as An American
Family (1973), a 12 -part documentary series about the Loud family by Alan
and Susan Raymond, produced by the American Public Broadcasting Service. The
production and subsequent broadcasting of the series had a devastating effect
on the Loud family. Common sense tells us that the constant presence of even a
minimal two or three -person cinema
verite crew with cameras, sound equipment and lights, would have some
effect on the behavior of those being filmed. However, when it became known to
the public that the producer was having an affair with Mrs. Loud, even the
defenders of the series conceded defeat. [126]
Today, cinema
verite and direct cinema are now
generally recognized by documentarians as styles of shooting, rather than as aesthetic
or ideological ideals.
II.10.3. A
variation of cinema verite featuring a character or narrator speaking directly
to the camera, sometimes in an interview
Similar to the style employed by Vertov in
Three Songs of Lenin,[127]
this is the style favored by most television news broadcasts and institutional
/ corporate documentaries, with presenters talking directly to the viewers to introduce and set up the story,
and then having the subjects of the program tell the story through on-camera
interviews [128]
For this style to work, the presenters
must be charismatic and articulate, and the subjects themselves interesting and
articulate. Above all, the editing must be fast moving, with interesting
visuals to both illustrate the stories as well as to use as cut-aways when the
talking heads are getting boring. These visuals are known as b-roll. This style is also found in feature
documentary classics like Marcel Ophuls’s
Le Temoin et La Pitie(1969) , Peter
Davis’ Academy Award winning history of the Vietnam War Hearts and Minds (1974) and Ken Burns’ series
on the American Civil War, The Civil War
( 1980). Some documentarians, like Ken Burns, employ academic experts to
introduce episodes and give their material both credibility and intellectual respectability.
Others, like Peter Davis, prefer to focus on testimony from participants or witnesses to events, since such testimony is
usually more dramatic and emotionally
involved than that the dispassionate comments of academicians or
experts. Regardless,
what these films have in common is that the filmmaker
stay off-camera and does not play a role in role in the drama. As soon as we
see the filmmaker and he or she makes his or her personal comments to the
audience, the style becomes Self-Reflexive.
II.10.4.A
self-reflexive style featuring a mix of interview and comments, including \observations
from the documentarian
As soon as
the filmmaker interjects him or herself into the narrative, as previously
noted, the style becomes Self-Reflexive. Most
cinema historians agree that Vertov’s The
Man with a Movie Camera was the first documentary in this style, and the
film has many self-reflexive elements, including shots of the editor waking up
and getting dressed, as well as shots of the man with the camera at work, setting up shots and moving to get better
angles. Clearly, then, the Self-Reflexive
style would fit within the
parameters of our operational definition.
As documentarians have striven for increased honesty and rapport with
their viewers, many have chosen the Self-Reflective style as a means of breaking what is called The Fourth Wall in theatre, and sharing
the secrets of the creative process with the spectators. Just like the
theatrical asides Bertholdt Brecht called verframdungseffekt,,
sharing such secrets can help keep the spectator alert by reminding him
that he is a participant in a creative process. Barbet Schroeder’s documentary General Idi Amin Dada-A Self-Portrait (1974)
is an interesting example.
Schroeder and his cameraman Nestor
Almendros were invited by the Ugandan dictator General Idi Amin Dada to make a
propaganda film on his behalf. Once they
were in Uganda, Amin asked them to cover a number of events he had clearly
staged for the occasion, Schroeder and Almendros went through the motions of
covering the staged events while revealing the behind-the-scenes manipulations
whenever possible. When the final film was screened in Paris, critics called it
a “hilarious comedy”. General Amin
was not amused, and proceeded to take a number of French residents hostage in
the Ugandan capital of Kampala, and locked them up in a local hotel. Then he
gave them Schroeder’s home telephone number, and asked them to tell Schroeder
that they would would not be released unless certain scenes were removed.
Schroeder agree to cut two scenes, and the grateful hostages were able to
return to France. However, rather than replace the scenes, Schroeder instead dribed
in text over a black screen, saying what had been cut, and why it had been cut.
He then modified the title, to give credit to General Amin’s creative
contribution.[129]The
resulting film is a devastating portrait of a tyrant.
Another example of a fearless
documentarian employing a self-reflexive style is Joshua Oppenheimer’s The Act of Killing (
2012). With Oppenheimer narrating, this film
tells the story of how he tracked down participants in the mass killing of
accused communists in 1965 in Indonesia, and then got them to make dramatic
films celebrating their acts of killing. The bizarre results are both powerful
and horrifying as Oppenheimer succeeds in establishing a rapport with the most
sympathetic of the killers, clearly hoping that he will be able to get the
killer to express some remorse by the end of the film. He does not succeed.[130]
Perhaps the best known of contemporary documentarians working in the self-reflexive
mode is the American Michael Moore, who has made a series of documentary
features on American political issues, starting with Roger and Me (1989). The film tells the story of the relationship
between automotive giant General Motors and Moore’s home town of Flint,
Michigan. Rather than using a conventional documentary style consisting of
interviews with local residents and representatives
of General Motors, Moore instead creates an artificial dramatic thread with the
story of his trying to get an interview with General Motors executives he knows
he will never get. What makes the film work is Moore’s on-camera character as
he takes us around the city, meeting residents, and conducting a constant and
often witty commentary about what we are seeing. The results are both
entertaining and infuriating as Moore succeeds in getting us to empathize with
the Flint residents while becoming disgusted with the callous attitude of
General Motor. Even though shot on what obviously was a low budget, Roger and Me was a box office hit; this success
has enabled Moore to continue making
films, as well as making him a media celebrity.[131]
Whether the success of Roger and Me was due to Moore’s comic
on-camera persona, or the political content of the film itself, the bottom line
is that American audiences now seem to
accept the self-reflexive style, and that more and more documentaries are now
being produced in this style today.
II.11. Borderline
Forms
Over the past two decades, some documentaries, such
as those of the afore-mentioned Michael Moore, have enjoyed commercial success
in the United States. As a result, the term documentary
has lost its pejorative edge for many commercial producers and distributors.
Unfortunately, this change of
attitude has not led to increased funding for serious documentary production; however,
it has led to an increase in the production of commercial productions with a
documentary veneer, such as: docudramas,
historical dramas, reality-based television, docusoaps and mockumentaries. These
genres employ features of documentary, but arguably without being faithful to documentary aesthetics.
II.11. 1. Docudrama
Nichols notes that while docudramas “draw much of their plot structure and characters from actual events”, they
are “generally considered fundamentally
fictions.”[132]
This term was created to describe a television drama based on a true story, but
adapted for the television screen. Hollywood has always taken such great
liberties with historical figures and events.
Television viewers, on the other hand,
have been a bit more demanding when it came to depiction of real people and
events. The term docudrama grants the
commercial television producers a legal exemption from demands for accurate
portrayals. The producer purchases the rights to the story, and then makes
whatever changes deemed necessary. Such is the nature of commercial television,
and no professional in broadcasting would confuse a documentary with a docudrama.
Unfortunately, as both Stalin and Hitler knew, spectators frequently fail
to make this distinction, since people tend to believe what they see, even if
they know it to be fictitious. Hence the need for government or non-profit
television stations which can broadcast documentaries,
which at least have some pretense of accuracy and veracity.
As mentioned
before, the issue of re-enactment in
documentary has always been a bone of contention. Purists might argue, for example, that re-enactment does not belong in
documentaries at all, However, others might be of the opinion
that a certain amount of re-enactment is permissible, as
long as it is overt, and not deceptive.
Errol
Morris ‘excellent documentary about a man wrongly convicted of murder in Texas,
The Thin Blue Line(1988), is a good
example of the second case. Morris
combines interviews with some clearly staged visual re-enactment of events, but
he manages to do so in a restrained, neutral fashion that merely illustrates
the testimony of the person being interviewed, rather than attempting to
re-create the event itself. The characters are played by actors, but could just
as well be played by animated faceless robots. The images are the kind one
might expect to see in a courtroom, designed not to prejudice the jury – or the
spectator - in one way or another. [133]
Simultaneously, these images allow Morris to visually punctuate his many
talking head interviews and dramatize them with the help of music from Phillip
Glass.
Therefore, The Thin Blue Line would
fall well within our parameters for documentary.[134]
However, docudramas would not.
II.11.2. Historical Drama
While
there is general agreement that the term historical
drama refers to fictitious events set in a historical context, there are
some variations on this genre which fall
between the lines. For example, what is
one to make of the many historical documentaries done by the BBC and others
that now show re-enactments of historical events and characters?
By Vertov’s expressed standards, these
films would not be documentaries if they have theatrically re-created
events with actors playing the roles of historical figures; they may be
excellent docudramas, but they are
not documentaries. The issue is a
fundamental issue of directorial control: as soon as you have theatrical re-enactments you are
exerting dramatic control over the material which will affect the viewer’s
perceptions both consciously and subconsciously. If you show the face of, say,
the leader of the Visigoths as he prepares to sack Rome, you are leaving documentary, and entering the realm of historical drama.
Some
historical television documentaries, like Simon Schama’s productions on BBC,
carefully observe this distinction by limiting their images to showing an
on-camera presenter, often speaking in present time from the historical
location, which is also shown in present time. Among other things, historical
interpretation is a highly complex art, requiring extensive research, not to
mention funding for scenography and locations that are usually far beyond the
means of a producer of historical documentary. This challenge has inspired some
creative solutions. For example, rather than do an inferior re-creation on a
tight budget, some directors, like the American Ken Burns, in his highly
successful series on the American Civil War titled The Civil War (1990) have
carefully limited themselves to use of
authentic historical images as well as contemporary texts such as
letters read by actors, and have managed to
produce powerful historical documentaries
while remaining faithful to traditional documentary conventions.[135]
In subsequent productions like Baseball (1994)
and Jazz (2001), among others, Burns
demonstrated that it is possible to respect traditional documentary technique
and tell engaging stories about historical processes and events, provided
one possesses the aesthetic discipline and professional integrity required.
Burns has won two Academy Awards for
his work, and enjoyed commercial as well as artistic success; today his
productions are used as educational tools in many American schools, and his
work has spawned a generation of imitators. [136]
Therefore, historical documentaries would fall
within the realms of our definition, while historical
dramas or historical fiction would not.
II.11.3. Reality
Based Television
Sometimes referred to as reality television, or infotainment,
reality based television refers to a genre of television programs in which
real people are put in comic or dramatic situations designed to evoke an
entertaining response for spectators. Examples from the early history of
television include television game shows and
talk shows. After strikes in the
1980’s by The Writers Guild and The Screen Actors’s Guild, Hollywood
television producers sought new ways to produce entertaining television
programming material without paying for talent and scripts. The first successful reality-based programs
in the United States had a law and order theme, such as Cops, produced by John Langely and Malcom Barbour, which was first
broadcast in 1989.
The concept of Cops is simple enough: a camera crew would be embedded with a
police unit, and would then follow them on their patrol as the police answered
calls and made arrests. Heavy emphasis
was placed on authenticity in the opening disclaimer, read by actor Burt
Lancaster: “Cops is about real people and
real criminals. It was filmed entirely on location with the men and women in
work in law enforcement.”[137]
Shot entirely in cinema verite style, Cops proved
to be a wildly successful program around the world. In 2012, the 850th episode was broadcast by Fox Television, the
producer, in the United States. Over the
years, however, there have been questions about documentary ethics involved,
and in May, 2013, Fox Television announced it was discontinuing the series.[138]
Similar ethical issues arise with the
so-called docusoap, a term used to
denote the next generation of reality-based programming typified by the Survivor series. Survivor was first
broadcast in the United States in 1992; the program creates a highly charged
but very artificial situation by throwing a group of carefully selected
contestants into an exotic location where they had to pass a series of grueling
physical tests to compete for a cash prize. Personal conflicts between contestants are encouraged, and carefully recorded; the
ideal result was a Darwinian snake pit from which contestants would be evicted,
one by one, until finally only one survivor remained and was crowned the winner
of the substantial cash prize. - hence the title. Today, spin-offs of Survivor are produced in many countries
around the world.[139] Since Survivor and its various and sundry spin-offs are fundamentally television game shows, they cannot be
considered documentary, even if the
programs may contain documentary elements. Indeed, the
producers of Survivor have never
pretended the program is documentary. The
entire situation is contrived, and the participants are heavily manipulated. Were it not for the need
for commercial television programming, the situation being depicted would never
exist at all.
Therefore, what is being documented is a fiction, with the
only caveat being that the contest is supposed to be rigged, like other game
shows. While it might seem self-evident that game shows cannot be considered documentary, Stella Bruzzi makes a
fanciful case that docusoaps are part
of something she calls new observational
television, or factual entertainment.
She writes:“As in the case with cinema
verite and direct cinema in the 1960’s, the evolution and current extension of
the parameters of observational film and television is in large part due to
specific technological advances.” [140]
While it is certainly true that
technological innovations have greatly facilitated the production of docusoaps and other examples of reality-based
programming, one can also say with certainty that the rapid evolution of
digital technology has greatly facilitated all manner of creative endeavors,
and not just docusoaps.The technology
does not just generate the product; rather, producers use the new technology to
create new products to satisfy specific needs. As was the case with
reality-based programs like Cops, the
docusoap format was created
specifically to enable producers avoid paying television actors and
screenwriters the fees they were owed according to union contracts.
In addition, most
docusoaps are not shot on location or
in real-life situations; instead, they depict the actions of individuals thrown
together in a completely contrived situation. In this situation, individuals
are frequently manipulated (and allegedly even sometimes scripted) off-camera, and
are encouraged to create drama for the camera. All of these features might make
for titillating television entertainment, but they are all fundamental
violations of the ground rules for documentary.
Hence
docusoaps, along with reality-based television and infotainment, although all contain some
documentary elements, fall outside the parameters of our operational definition
of documentary. As Michael Rabiger has noted,” the public has an insatiable appetite for “infotainment” shows based on
police recordings, accidents, and bizarre events captured in home movie clips.
By no stretch of the imagination are they documentary, even though they do
document how people react in trying situations. They do, however, use
documentary observation and provide work for documentary crews. Perhaps they
help us, in a roundabout way, to define what documentary is not.”[141]
II.11.4. Propaganda Documentaries
The issue of what is, and what is not, propaganda has also
long been a bone of contention in the world of cinema. As previously noted, the
very word propaganda resonates quite
differently depending upon who is using it. Patricia Aufderheide defines propaganda documentaries as being made
with the goal of convincing viewers of an
organization’s point of view or cause, noting that they are “an important source of
funding and training for documentarians worldwide and sometimes an important
influence on public opinion.”[142]
Dziga Vertov, for example, was proud to
be making propaganda documentaries in the service of the communist party and
the Soviet revolution. His problems arose when his ostensible clients in the
party decided he was not making propaganda in the style they wanted. Vertov wanted
to make documentaries with what he considered to be artistic quality, and his
clients did not.
Since the
sponsor or backer of any production may want the production to reflect certain
views, virtually any production with an institutional sponsor might be accused
of being propaganda for that sponsor’s views. As a result, just as one does
with advertising, perhaps it might make sense to distinguish between good and
bad propaganda. Just like commercials, there are examples of well-made propaganda,
and, just like some commercials, some examples propaganda can even be described
as works of art.[143]
II.11.5.
Mockumentary
This term is used to denote a fiction film shot in
documentary style. It was invented by director Rob Reiner as a tongue-in-cheek
description of his 1984 comedy about an aging rock band on a comeback tour
titled, This is Spinal Tap[144].
There have been previous examples of films
which intitially led audiences to believe they were documentaries only to
reveal at the end that, in fact, the stories were fictitious. Perhaps the most
famous early example of this technique was not a film, but a radio show – Orson
Welles’ 1938 radio dramatization of H.G. Wells’ book The War of the Worlds about a martian invasion of the United
States. Delivered in the form of a radio news broadcast, this program created a
reaction of mass hysteria as terrified Americans fled from the imagined alien
intruders.[145]
The same technique of creating a fake news
broadcast was employed by the staff of the BBC television Panorama news program, for a wildly successful April Fools’ Day
comic spoof in 1957 which showed Swiss peasants reaping their yearly spaghetti
harvest from their spaghetti trees. According to some accounts, some British
viewers were oblivious both to the realities of Italian agriculture as well as
the date, and, like the earlier Orson Welles radio broadcast, the smooth
professional presentation caused many to swallow the absurd premise as fact.
Since cinema has employed illusion and
deception as dramatic devices since the days of George Melies, mockumentary techniques are generally
recognized as valid narrative tools in cinema, particularly when used for
comedy, like in This is Spinal Tap.
However, other films using dealing mockumentary
techniques to deal with serious subject matter have aroused controversy
because they succeeded too well in their deception – notably Mitchell Block’s No Lies
(1973) about a woman who tells
the story of her rape, and Jim McBride’s David
Holtzman’s Diary ( 1968).[146]
Perhaps the two most famous examples of
what might be called dramatic
mockumentary are the Italian director Gillo Pontocorvo’s Battle of Algiers (1966), an
extraordinary film about the Algerian war for independence from the French, and
Peter Watkins The War Game (1965),[147]
an equally extraordinary television drama about the effects of a thermonuclear
war on the ground in England. Both of these
films employed a cinema verite style
to throw the spectator into the middle of the intense action, and both films
received many awards. Both also received the ultimate accolade for successful
cinematic subversion: they were banned for two decades – Battle of Algiers in France , and The War Game in England.[148]
In all
cases, however, mockumentaries, no
matter how effective they may be in cinematic terms, are not documentaries. Rather, they are fiction cinema using
documentary conventions and narratives devices for dramatic effect.
II.12. Conclusions
Documentarians chose
the documentary genre as a mode of expression because they believe they have
something to say, and they consciously chose the documentary form. When
documentarians make that choice, they are also aware that they are making a
compact with the audience that they will respect and observe the conventions of
documentary that are currently the norm.
Out of necessity, therefore, contemporary documentarians
must adhere to the same basic aesthetic conventions as their predecessors who
made documentary films. While the technology has changed, the basic documentary
conventions remain – at least, for the time being. These conventions are grounded in documentary tradition, practice and
theory, and therefore any definition of documentary must have its roots in that
tradition and theory to be viable.
The choice of
Vertov was not based on sentimentality; Vertov is anything but sentimental, nor
is his thinking anachronistic. Indeed, there are some documentary historians,
like Jeremy Hicks, as well as media scholars like the afore-mentioned Lev Manovich.
who feel that Vertov has particular relevance for Digital Documentary and New
Media. In the words of Hicks:“Digital imagery seems to herald a new
scepticism towards documentary as an objective register, further weakening the
Griersonian realist tradition. Vertov’s explicitly partisan exhortation, as
well as his skepticism towards the image and the recording process, echo
central themes of the digital age. Indeed, it has been argued that his search
for non-narrative solutions to the organization of material anticipates those
of the database. Yet, for all his relevance to these themes, Vertov’s
revelation of the persuasive power of images was ultimately rooted in record.”[149]
If there is any
trend to be detected in the evolution of documentary in the era of New Media, it would be seem to be in the
direction of more participation on the part of the spectator. [150]The
following chapter will explore the evolution of the environment of New Media, and attempt to place
documentary in the context of that constantly changing new environment.
Appendix A :Notes
1.
Aufderheide, Patricia ( Documentary Film-
A Very Short Introduction )Oxford University Press, 2007. p.4
2. Barnouw, Erik ( Documentary: A History of the Non-fiction
Film) Second Revised Edition, Oxford
University Press, 1993. p. 27
3.Barnouw, ibid.
p.28
4.Anderson
&Lucas, ibid.p.3
5 Link to Moana: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xs0FNCp6aRM
6Ellis, Jack C.
and Betsy A. McLane (A New History of
Documentary Film) Continuum, 2005. P.3
7 Barnouw, ibid.p.99
9Aufderheide, ibid.p35
10 Vertov,
Dziga ( On the Significance of Non-Acted
Cinema, in KINO EYE) 1923
11Aufderheide,
ibid.p.32
12Gaines, Jane
M. ( Collecting Visible Evidence)
University of Minnesota Press, 1999. p.6
13Barnouw, ibid.
p.36
14McLane,
Betsy A. ( A New History of Documentary Film) Second Edition, Bloomsbury, New York and London, 2012.
15Rothman,
William “The Filmmaker as Hunter”, (Documenting the Documentary)Ed.
Barry Keith Grant and Jeanette Skolimowski. Detroit,
Wayne State University Press, 1998. P. 24
16Barnouw, ibid.p99
17Lippman,
Walter (Public Opinion) Create Space
Independent Publishing, 2010.
18Miller, Mark
Crispin, In Edward Bernays ( Propaganda) Lg Publishing, New York, 2005. Original
copyright Edward Bernays, 1928, pp,9-12
19Miller, ibid.p.12
20 Nelson,
Joyce (The Colonized Eye- Rethinking the
Grierson Legend ) Between The Lines, Toronto, 1988.
21Nelson, ibid.p.84
22Evans, Gary
(John Grierson and the National Film
Board- The Politics of Wartime Propaganda) University of Toronto Press,
1984. p.214
23Nelson, ibid. p.13
24Druick, Zoe.
( Projecting Canada – Government Policy
and Documentary Film at the Canadian Film Board) McGill Queens University
Press, Toronto, 2007. p.72
25Evans, ibid. p. 240
26 ibid. p.230
27For PDF files
with Grierson’s full testimony before the Keelock-Tschereau Commission please
see Robert Bothwell & J.L. Granatstein, eds., The
Gouzenko Transcripts: The Evidence Presented to the Kellock-Taschereau Royal
Commission
28For full
transcript of Grierson’s testimony, please see in notes: Robert
Bothwell & J.L. Granatstein, eds., The Gouzenko Transcripts: The Evidence
Presented to the Kellock-Taschereau RoyalCommission
29Evans, ibid. p.266
30ibid. p. 266
31 Nelson, ibid. p.156
32The author
visited India in 1979 and learned from Grierson’s associate James Beveridge
that both the production and distribution of the Films Division was closely
modeled on Grierson’s Canadian Film Board.
33Interestingly, Vertov himself
was apparently not a member of the party.
34Leyda, Jay,
( Kino: A History of the Russian and
Soviet Film) Third Edition, Princeton University Press, 1983, p.195
35Hicks,
Jeremy, (Dziga Vertov – Defining Documentary Film) I.B. Taurus, 2007.
pp.123-124
36http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivor_Montagu
37Tsivian,
Yuri, (Lines of Resistance- Dziga Vertov
and the Twenties)2004, Le Giornate del Cinema Muto, pp358-359
39Grierson,
John, The Clarion, Vol. 3, no. 2,
February 1931. From Tsivian ,ibid. p.
374
40Hicks,ibid.p.124
41Links to
episodes 1-5 of Kino Pravda: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QBKBij5_0c
42Hicks ,ibid. p.14
43ibid. p.14
44Vertov,
Dziga, (On the Significance of Non-Acted
Cinema) 1923, in Kino-Eye, p. 51; from Hicks,ibid.
p.15
45 Barnouw, ibid. p. 61
46Link to The Eleventh Year: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3csHcuiuTv8
48Hicks, ibid.pp.106-107
49Dziga Vertov
(RGALI 2091/2/174), from Hicks, ibid. p.84
50Leyda, ibid.
pp 312-313
51 Link to Three
Songs of Lenin: https://youtu.be/JeWK5iRp0BE
52Barnouw,ibid. p.65
53 Link to Kino Pravda, Parts 1-5: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QBKBij5_0c
54Wikipedia
(en.wikipedia.org/wiki/dziga_vertov)
55Link to The Man With the Movie Camera: http://www.youtubeP.com/watch?v=8Fd_T4l2qaQ
56Manovich, ibid. p, xiv
57McLane, ibid.
pp.14-15
58An example
of Movietone News from 1934: https://youtu.be/7iNCwsGkE1E
59 In this context, it is worth noting that Vertov
himself did his best to avoid relying on titles to tell the story in his silent
films. In his sound films, Vertov also attempted to employ sound as a creative
medium in its own right; while the second-person address to Lenin in Three Songs of Lenin might be considered
a variation on Direct Address.
60For an
example of 1930’s newsreel, please see this link to March of Time from
1938
https://youtu.be/Wb__OIUCaRM
61Renov,
Michael( The Subject of Documentary) University of Minnesota Press, 2004 p.xxi .Curiously,
Renov then goes on to state that some contemporary documentarians use their own
voices to provide reflexive commentary on the action, as if they were
variations on the same narrative technique. They are not. One is omniscient,
the other subjective .
62Bunuel,
Luis. ( My Last Sigh),Vintage Books, New York, 2013
63ibid.pp.177-216
64 Link to Life
Without Bread, English version. https://youtu.be/vUmmfYagWDA
65Bunuel
quoted by Vivien Sobchak, Synthetic Vision – The Dialectical Imperative of
Luis Bunuel’s Las Hurdes( Documenting the Documentary) ibid.p. 72
66Link to Rain:
https://youtu.be/6ADNWzg4ZmE
67Jacobs, ibid. p.60
68Barnouw ibid.
p.133
69Link to Misere
Au Borinage: https://youtu.be/cXg-uZ7_rVw
70 Barnouw, ibid.
p. 134.
71 Link to This
Spanish Earth: https://youtu.be/MTKtS4WtK_c
72Link to The
400 Million: https://youtu.be/szONyAKfi5c
73Barnouw, ibid.
p. 139
74Link to Know
Your Enemy – Japan: https://youtu.be/zBIfnPyK4rw
75Link to Indonesia
Calling: https://youtu.be/kOANnt5KF4Q
76Barnouw, ibid.
p. 279
78Ray Muller,
(The Horrible Wonderful World of Leni
Riefenstahl) (1993)
79 German
original: “ Hergestellt im Auftrage des Fuhrer/ Gestaltet von Leni
Riefenstahl” from Barnouw, ibid. p.103
80 Barnouw, ibid.p.102
81Tomasulo,
Frank P.,” The Mass Psychology of Fascist Cinema- Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph
of the Will, ( Documenting the Documentary) ibid. p. 102
82Link to The Horrible Wonderful World of Leni
Riefenstahl: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azDS_1DKOEQ
83Link to Triumph of the Will: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GHs2coAzLJ8
84Everson,
William K.(The Triumph of the Will )Infinity,
September 1964, from Jacobs ibid..138-139 Apparently one of the
filmmakers using her material to create anti-Nazi propaganda was Luis Bunuel,
when he was working for the Allied war effort.
85 Link to Olympia:
86 A
few years ago, the American actress Jodie Foster tried to a make a movie about
Riefenstahl, but financing that had been in place suddenly disappeared. For
many feminists , Riefenstahl is a tough nut to crack. It is impossible to
question her ability, but how should she be represented ideologically?
87 Barnouw, ibid.
p.163
88 ibid.p.
164
90Leach, Jim,
“The Poetics of Propaganda- Humphrey Jennings and Listen to Britain”
( from
Documenting the Documentary) ibid. p.154
92 Link to Kodak’s
16 mm Film – Getting Started: https://youtu.be/xgC4RmkBehg
93 Barnouw,
ibid. p.216
94Ibid. p.
23451866225
95Ibid. p.225
96 Link to Night
and Fog: https://youtu.be/CPLX8U2SHJE
97Flitterman-Lewis,
Sandy “ Documenting the Ineffable – Terror and Memory in Alais Resnais’ Night
and Fog”( in Documenting the Documentary) ibid. p. 204
98Lindsay
Anderson on Free Cinema: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IX33mYO4K1w
99Aufderheide ibid. p.44
100 Jacobs,
Lewis ( The Documentary Tradition)Second
Edition. WW. Norton, 1975. P.404
101Nichols,
Bill (Introduction to Documentary)
Second Edition, Indiana UZZXCVBniversity Press 2010, pp,7-10
103 Nichols, ibid. p.8
104 ibid. p.8
105 ibid. p.13
106 Fellini, Federico(
Fellini
on Fellini) Delacorte
Press, 1976, p.152
107 Gaines, ibid. p.2
108 Aufderheide,
ibid.p.5
109Yates,
Pamela and Paco deOnis ( Reflections on
Getting Real: Debunking Five Myths that Divide Us) 2014.
Anderson&Lucas, ibid, p. 4
110 Bruzzi, Stella(
New Documentary) Second Edition.
Routledge, 2006, p. 6
111Hicks ibid. p. 24
112 Link to
trailer for The Ambassador: http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=the+ambassador+trailer&sm=1
113 Eitzen,
Dirk(Against the Ivory Tower – An
Apologia for ‘Popular’ Historical Documentaries) in Rosenthal and Corner , ibid. p. 417
114Link to
Part 1 of Shoah: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XNIrrJe_7g
115Link to
Part 1 of The Civil War: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FN2huQB-DmE
116 Eitzen ,ibid. p. 415
117 Rabiger ibid.p
9
118 Ellis,
Jack C. and Betsy A. McLane ( A
New History of Documentary Film) Continuum Press, 2006. P. 335
119Monaco,
James (How To Read a Film) Fourth
Edition, Oxford University Press, 2009,p.318
120 Carnap,
Rudolf (The Philosophical Foundations of
Physics) Basic Books, 1966, p.283
121 Carnap,ibid.p.232
122 From
Dai Vaughan’s summary of Dziga Vertov’s Kino
Eye Manifesto in Lewis Jacobs (The
Documentary Tradition) Second Edition, WW Norton, 1979, p.53
123 Anderson
& Lucas, ibid. p.22
124 Link to The Night Mail: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zmciuKsBOi0
125 Winston,
Brian ( The Documentary Film as
Scientific Inscription) in Theorizing
Documentary, Michael Renov, Editor. Routledge, 1993.pp 46-49
126Link to an
episode from An American Family http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukNL26zQv7w
127 Link to Three Songs of Lenin: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeWK5iRp0BE
128 Links to three
examples from MONUSCO:
129 Link to
trailer for General Idi Amin Dada – A
Self-Portrait
https://youtu.be/6esxP2_VEUA
130 Link to
trailer for The Act if Killing
https://youtu.be/SD5oMxbMcHM
131 Link to
trailer for Roger and Me
132Nichols,
Bill ( Introduction to Documentary,
Second Edition) Indiana University Press, 2010. P. 145
133Jon Else,
Director of The University of California School of Journalism and Documentary,
feels the determining factor should be if the re-enactment is not overt, but deceptive.( The Documentary Filmmakers’ Handbook) Edited by Genevieve Jolliffe
and Andrew Zinnes, First Edition, Continuum, 2006.p.19
135 Link to
the Gettysburg Address Sequence from The
Civil War: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCXUbQ4JjXI
137 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cops_(TV_series)
138 Link to an
episode of ‘COPS: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1L1APOGhLI
140 Bruzzi,ibid.
p. 121
141 Rabiger, ibid. p.40
142 Aufderheide
,ibid. p. 65
143 In some countries, like Brazil, propaganda
is synonomous with advertising.
144 Link to
trailer for This is Spinal Tap
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDnjHSI8BRs
145 Link to War of the Worlds radio broadcast:
146 Link to David
Holtzman’s Diary: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5E9GEY05ZM
147 Link to The War Game: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dox_cmm4feE
149 Hicks, ibid. p136
150As Henry Jenkins notes,the essence of
what he has called the new Culture of
Convergence is participation .
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