Think of the Children

The latest movie to come through our Netflix queue was a heart wrenching, utterly depressing look at the homeless population of "feral" children who haunt the subway stations and stairways of post-communist Bucharest. Filming of Children Underground took place over a year's time in the late 1990s, and the five children chronicled range in age from 8 to 16. Hence they are the last of a wave of kids forcibly born to parents too poor, or too unmoved, to care for them.

Their lives are presented as embodiments of Nicolae Ceausescu's policy of outlawing birth control and abortion in order to plump up his nation's work force. However, beyond the mention of this policy in text form at the beginning of the movie, the film does not explain or explore it in any depth. Hence the kids could just have easily been a random coterie, located in any big city subway in the world.

Day to day routines involve begging, stealing, huffing paint, crying in pain or frustration, smoking and, occasionally, enjoying a few minutes of giggles from normal bits of play, such as splashing in a pool on a hot day. Watching the eyes of some of the adults who pass into the kids lives, such as the nun who attempts to place two of the children (a brother and sister) into a facility, only to be rejected, or the mother of one girl, as she prompts her daughter to say she wants to return to life on the street in Bucharest, instead of holding her close and begging her not to run away again, is unbearable. Further, knowing that ultimately, the kids' journey is hopeless, and, as we learn in the DVD extras, nearly all will continue to live on the street after filming has ceased, will unavoidably leave a choked sob in your throat. I imagine the urge to adopt a child from Romania was strong in many of the people who saw this film and helped it win its numerous awards. I wonder how many of them think about this movie during their evening subway commutes.

Lecture: Harvey Pekar is a Grouch

But, that's his charm. So went the conventional wisdom in a room of ~250 people at the Herbst Theater last Monday night. Harvey was in the house to promote his new comic book, Ego & Hubris, the Michael Malice Story. But the book was largely beside the point, as Harvey didn't speak much about his inspiration for it, or his goals in writing it, or how he hopes it will have a positive impact on the lives of young people the world over. These are all positive sentiments, and as such, have no place in Harvey's limited worldview.

To say Harvey is a curmudgeon would be a bit harsh. To call him a cynic would tow the party line. Despite some substantial financial success, particularly since the critical acclaim and Oscar nomination for his 2003 movie American'>American Splendor, Harvey seems convinced that it's all about to come crashing down around him. He also readily admits (and in fact emphasizes) his all consuming concern with getting paid. The first few times he answered questions with "they didn't pay enough" or "I live in Cleveland b/c my house is paid off," his comments hinted at a underlying obsessiveness that I associate with many sons-of-immigrants of a certain generation (Harvey's parents emigrated from Poland). Anyone who grew up with stories about barely surviving in times of hardship is bound to have memorized the value of a dollar. However, by the end of the Q&A session, I wondered if Mr. Pekar would even be doing what's he doing if there wasn't significant $$$$ associated. In other words, did the man have any passion for his art, an art to which so many people living the quintessential quotidian existence could relate, or was he simply going through the motions of speaking and conversing and grumping w/ the public in order to procure a paycheck?

The ultimate disturbing wonderment that emerges from this line of thinking is whether his grouch factor is genuine, or part of a tried and true character act he's perfected for the sake of popular appeal. I don't like to go down this road, b/c the curmudgeon character speaks to so many of us, and having a pop culture figure (even a largely 'underground' one) in this vein has its comforts. And I don't think Harvey is on stage hyperbolizing his cynicism for the sake of ratings. But in the interest of not finding out if this is really true, I think I'll refrain from paying $18 to go see him in the future.

Documentary: Bowling is Overrated

My Netflix recently delivered Bowling for Columbine, that 02 documentary that helped make Michael Moore a household name. This wasn't my first exposure to the large liberal icon. I saw Fahrenheit 911 shortly after it came out, and appreciated it for what it was, but left the experience not feeling particularly endeared to the man. Certainly, he's talented and has a sense of the theatric. But to my mind, "theatrics" and "documentary," are not compatible terms. As I sat down to watch this earlier work, my expectations were low, and they were met.

While Bowling was insightful and entertaining, it was also hokey and hard to watch. While I commend Mr. Moore for his persistance in getting face time with some interesting characters (most notably, James Nichols, the brother and perhaps co conspirator of the Oklahoma City bomber), I found his pushing of his own agenda and his silly dramatics with the K Mart executives and Dick Clark tiresome and worthy only of eye rolling. His exploitive interview with Charleton Heston, a man who clearly is in the early stages of either senility or Alzheimers, was particularly superfluous. In fact, after about a minute and half of that exchange, I had to hit the FF button.

There's a kernel of something respectable in Moore's motives. He does an admirable job of info gathering and piecing together a larger story. And his interviews with Marilyn Manson (who I continue to perceive as one of the most articulate non b-s-ers in the entertainment world) was engaging. But objective he's not, and in seeking to educate (which is the purported under goal of a documentary, second of course, to the all consuming goal of entertaining), objective is the one thing one must be. If I wanted to watch a pre packaged montage of selective audio and video clips meant to brainswash me into adopting a particular attitude, I'd go turn on Fox News.

Lecture: Robert Siegel, UC Berkeley J School

The best part of going to hear readers and writers speak (even at 8pm on a Saturday night, when you may vaguely wish you were off enjoying a pomegranate margarita) is their delectable turns of phrase. Robert Siegel was no exception. Between the "drawer full of extra adjectives" that his editorial self pulled out of one reporter's collected works, and the "well informed inactivist" status he decided to pursue in radio, were many insightful, wittily worded anecdotes.

While his musings on the future of broadcasting, complete w/ predictions about the passing fancy for podcasting and the eternity of the internet, wandered a touch in the middle, for the most part he was funny and delightful. I'm sure the background information about the history of All Things Considered, and the transition in the radio world from AM to FM bandwidth, could be had w/ a quick internet engine search. But hearing him describe the chronology of the events in his warm, chocolate milk voice was better than words on a web page could ever be. Thus the beauty of audio -- and the reason why radio, in some form, will never die.