Script Doctor

The war on war, cont'd

DIRECTOR GILLO PONTECORVO , 84, was as shocked as the next ex-Communist to learn that the Pentagon was finding ways to use his beloved Battle of Algiers to help plan its war against "terrorism." Speaking through his bronchitis over the phone from Italy, he said he believes the government's only using it to get what he called a "scent" of the situation in Iraq and that the similarities between Iraq or Palestine of today and Algeria of the '50s are somewhat limited.

While much has been made of the banning of The Battle of Algiers in France when it came out, Pontecorvo remembers only one insurrectionist incident after Louis Malle helped it finally open across the country: someone in Lyon threw ink on the screen. The film went on to financial success, which encouraged Pontecorvo, who started, but left unfinished, a variety of great antiwar projects, from one on Palestine to another on Archbishop Oscar Romero. What he would like to see made in the future, whether it's by himself or someone else, he told me, is "something to inflame the audience against any kind of war. There is something absurd and incredible about how people in schools, in churches, in socialist groups do not do absolutely everything they can to stop this stupid, horrible thing that is war." Sadly, he said, producers aren't interested.

I myself can't speak to the churches or socialist groups. But as for schools? I'd say the response is pretty weak. An attentive guy named Fred wrote to the on-point blog of GreenCine's David Hudson to say, "In the film theory class I took in film school we were supposed to watch The Battle of Algiers on September 12, 2001. Needless to say it was pushed back and then pushed back again until, finally it was decided that it would be too traumatic to show Algiers at all that year. Instead we watched Three Kings some weeks later while bombs dropped on Afghanistan."

The fog of war, cont'd

Meanwhile, at UC Berkeley's Zellerbach Hall last week, purportedly defogged Johnson-Kennedy secretary of defense Robert McNamara, the "IBM machine with legs," made a refrain of the phrase "You won't believe this, but it's a fact." His memory was weak on a couple of points, but his numbers were in order: one million Japanese civilians killed before the two nuclear bombs were dropped in WW II; $52 dollars a year is what it cost to go to Cal when he attended so many decades ago; two was his age on Nov. 11, 1918, an Armistice Day he claims to remember; 173 reporters asked him about Bush's policy in Iraq before he finally gave in to one and told the Toronto Globe and Mail that no, he didn't support the war; and the 11 lessons you see in Errol Morris's documentary were not the lessons McNamara put forth in his book In Retrospect – now out in paperback – written nine years ago. And yes, Morris was onstage too, occasionally asserting his rightful ownership over the film, as Daniel Ellsberg and even Tom Waits listened in.

Morris has taken criticism for not pushing McNamara quite hard enough in the film, but even under the pressure of well-schooled moderator Mark Danner, McNamara proved himself the world's greatest evader. Why wouldn't McNamara join the opposition and come out against continued war in Iraq? "You do it!" he continually replied. And while Graduate School of Journalism dean Orville Schell advised the audience to let McNamara say his piece in peace and quiet, the big surprise was just how quiet the audience could remain, given the circumstances. The only protest I saw was a small demo outside the BART station as McNamara collected applause for a new platform he's running on: "Raise taxes!" "Reduce the risk of nuclear war!" "Devise a judicial deterrent for criminal acts in combat!" And then, of course, put McNamara on trial.

The dig

The most-whispered commentary at the post-Sundance Brian Jonestown Massacre show at Bottom of the Hill Feb. 17 was about just how much money Anton Newcombe is asking for to give the filmmakers of Sundance Documentary Grand Jury Prize winner Dig! the right to use his music for the wide release of their film. There was a hint that Newcombe would be asking too much, but consider that the film is, after all, based on his life, work, and band's gory fights, all filmed in the most unflattering detail. How much money should he hold out for? As much as he can get.

Susan Gerhard


February 18, 2004