In the filmmaking community, the latest feature from McLibel director Franny Armstrong, The Age of Stupid (Spanner Films), is generating at least as much attention for the way it made it to the screen as for the subject matter. While the topic of climate change is enough to inspire hundreds of thousands to take to the streets as activists, the story behind the making of Stupid - primarily the fact that it was funded solely by “crowdsourcing,” or scores of financial contributions from around the world - is stirring up a similar fervor amongst funding-challenged creators. Take this breathless recommendation from filmmaker Jon Reiss in The Huffington Post: “You should go see this film not because I feel it is a great film (I haven’t seen it yet!) but because you will be participating in the rebirth of film culture.”

That’s an interesting sentiment, perhaps even laudable in an era when documentary filmmakers are scraping for ever-dwindling funding. But a film, like any work of art or creative endeavor, should be appraised and valued not strictly for the behind-the-scenes methods that brought it to fruition, but for the work itself. All the talk about crowdsourcing, community outreach and grassroots promotion (all of which Armstrong has proven incredibly adept at) would amount to so much blather if the film itself was junk.

Thankfully, The Age of Stupid isn’t that, and it’s an important film on a number of levels.

Billed as a docudrama, Stupid frames the story in the year 2055, with veteran British actor Pete Postlethwaite (pictured) portraying The Archivist, a man who has holed himself up within a tower just outside of an arctic reduced to deep floodwater. From his perch he has access to a huge digital archive of the history of the world, and from that archive he is compiling a time capsule of sorts to warn any other sentient beings about the foolhardy descent into extinction that claimed humanity. It’s an interesting premise and one that could have all gone Pete Tong, but Postlethwaite handles the role brilliantly, and the concept marries the movie’s dependence on archival footage with a captivating narrative.

The Archivist charts the climate change-accelerated demise of Planet Earth via a touch screen, with which he calls up various clips, including the footage shot by Armstrong of several central characters. They include French mountaineer Fernand Pareau, who mourns the melting of the glaciers he has climbed for most of his life; Indian entrepreneur Jeh Wadia, who is using his considerable wealth to create a low-cost Indian airline; young Iraqis Jamila and Adnan Bayyoud who have experienced firsthand the brutality of the West’s lust for oil; former Shell Oil scientist Alvin DuVernay (who coined the film’s title); Nigerian medical student Layefa Malemi, who sells black market diesel to supplement her meager income, and British couple Piers and Lisa Guy, who share a dedication to warning the world of the dangers of climate change and are also on the front lines, with Piers being a wind-farm developer trying to convince the citizens of Bedfordshire to value sustainable energy over sight lines.

These characters’ stories are interwoven with assorted footage clips and animated vignettes that riff on various themes, such as consumerism and carbon emissions. And while they sometimes break the flow of the narrative, the vignettes, each sporting its own style of animation and narration, provide the occasional welcome break from the gloom and doom of the dominant theme.

Lest anyone think that all climate change documentaries are created equal, The Age of Stupid is not An Inconvenient Truth. Beyond the science-fiction narrative conceit, it’s also a faster, more aggressive animal - the rapid-fire cuts, pop culture jabs and CGI flourishes indicate this is a film made with a young audience in mind. Sometimes that works against the film - the cuts don’t always allow for important points to settle, and some cultural references actually detract from the scenes (as in the use of Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Were Made for Walking” for a scene in which the two young Iraqis sell sneakers on a Jordan street). And the CGI depictions of the ravaged world of the future, in sharp contrast to Postlethwaites’ touch screen “edit bay” sequences, aren’t entirely convincing.

But these are minor quibbles. Yes, The Age of Stupid does represent an important milestone in the funding of independent film. And conversely, its fast pace and emotional charge probably won’t do much to win over any skeptics (or “deniers,” as they’re called by climate change activists). But most importantly, as a film that dares to challenge and ultimately smash through the complacency surrounding one of the most vital issues of our time, The Age of Stupid hits the mark, and then some.

www.ageofstupid.net

Recently, the BBC announced it would be creating an “open source” documentary series on the creation and impact of the World Wide Web, and I’m more than a little bit excited to see how it all turns out.

“Digital Revolution” (w/t) has just officially begun production (according to the project’s blog) and has put the call out for contributions from around the world, through content sharing hubs such as YouTube and Flickr and through the BBC blog itself. The project, due to air in early 2010, has the support of the father of the WWW, Tim Berners-Lee, and for good reason. It really wouldn’t make much sense to make a docu series about the web - the tool that has revolutionized communication and connection - without giving people the ability to shape the larger story with their own experiences.

Social media and the inherent global reach of the ‘Net have not only revolutionized participatory media (see the number of projects incorporating Creative Commons-aided ‘remixing’ and redistribution of content) but also ‘perpetual’ media. Discourse about television programs, films, albums, et cetera continues on the web long after the projects are cancelled or the records go out of print. In a long tail world, even after the “commodity” (the content) has outlived its usefulness to the “gatekeeper” (the TV network or the record company), it can still exist in some form. It’s something that smart digital media companies realized a while back - in the digital world, if social media comprises part of an advertising campaign, then that campaign never has to end. Once the conversation has started, it can do more damage to your brand to end it. Campaigns, and by extension ideas, can live perpetually online, and be shared perpetually as well.

But the concept of sharing as it applies to social media and documentary making isn’t just limited to ideas and content. Several smaller productions are employing the ‘crowdsourcing’ or ‘crowdfunding’ method of financing, in which individuals are solicited to contribute financial donations to the production. It’s not a new movement, of course - one of the more successful examples of a crowdsourced project is Robert Greenwald’s Iraq For Sale, in which the director matched $100,000 from a major donor with over $260,000 from online donations. Age of Stupid, a “drama/documentary” project from director Franny Armstrong, has raised £450,000 through crowdfunding and will have a “global premiere” in late September, in which the airing of the film in New York will be beamed to 45 other countries. And Indie GoGo, a sort of crowdsourcing portal established in 2008, loudly trumpets the DIWO (”do it with others”) philosophy while putting money where its mouth is (and into the hands of aspiring filmmakers) - thus far, 1,782 projects are either completed or in progress. Indeed, the site partnered with online distribution platform SnagFilms in July; a relationship that brings in-progress projects to SnagFilms users, who can then provide feedback and, if they so choose, funding.

Sending in the crowds is but one way of creating, sharing and funding work. In a content-saturated marketplace, there are no guarantees that even if you do raise the bucks to complete your project, people will support it after the fact. And many have argued that while crowdfunded projects are made and supported by enthusiasts with their hearts in the right place, those enthusiasts aren’t always necessarily “filmmakers.” But ultimately, isn’t that for the marketplace to decide? Maybe, in a world of “pro-ams” (the term authors Charles Leadbeater and Paul Miller use to describe the growing number of “amateurs who work to professional standards”), the work made by passionate individuals with more than a little social media savvy can carry a cultural resonance that a studio or a network can’t buy.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/digitalrevolution/

http://powertothepixel.com

http://www.indiegogo.com

Anyone who works in the creative industries - be they a writer, an actor, a director, a songwriter or musician - knows the lure of the “big break.” It’s the moment when the clouds part and the heavens finally, after years of toil and dejection, deign to cast the spotlight upon you and your work.

When, in the new critically-acclaimed doc Anvil! The Story of Anvil, we first meet the Canadian metal band’s remaining original members Steve “Lips” Kudlow and Robb Reiner, it seems that they are still banking on that golden moment, some 30 years in to their band’s career. Indeed, as the film opens with footage from the Japanese festival Super Rock ‘84, which put Anvil on the same stage as the Scorpions, Bon Jovi and Whitesnake in front of tens of thousands, some may say that moment has come and gone. Testimonials from Slash, Metallica’s Lars Ulrich and Motorhead’s Lemmy Kilmister paint Anvil as a hugely influential group, one that unfortunately missed the million-selling mark by just that much.

Directed by longtime friend Sacha Gervasi (who first met the band at age 15 and went on to be a Hollywood screenwriter) and beautifully shot by Chris Soos, Anvil! The Story of Anvil is justifiably being hailed as a new classic rockumentary, capturing the highs and lows of a duo of dreamers that refuses to say die. Whether the camera is catching them backstage in Prague nearly coming to blows with a promoter who doesn’t want to pay them or onstage in a 10,000-seat hall playing for a crowd of 174, the view is unflinching and honest. And in a post-Spinal Tap world, it’s impossible to not look upon some moments, such as the band’s performance at then-guitarist Ivan Hurd’s wedding, without seeing a little bit of Nigel Tufnel and David St. Hubbins in the Anvil team.

Still, the story arc of Anvil does allow for Kudlow and Reiner to see some semblance of a return to glory by the film’s end. And without revealing too much, we see how Kudlow and Reiner’s mission - to at long last become “f***ing rock stars” - evolves into an acceptance that sometimes, the journey’s all you’ve got. That’s something that everyone who’s worked on making a dream come true - be it a new album or a new documentary project - can identify with.

So, I went out and downloaded a copy of the new Michael Moore film - the one he released for free in North America - from a third party site. Fine. No problems.

The film came with a registration file, which I checked with a virus scanner before opening. No problem. Good. Carry on.

And then I ran the registration file, unleashing the trojan virus, infecting my boot sectors, and generally filling my computer with hate and porn.

All this is to say:

1) I’m an idiot. I know better than to do that. But I did it anyway.

2) Be very careful if you download the Moore film from any location other than the actual film site (Slacker Uprising) because someone is going Liberal hunting.

Dammit.

It’s odd how a combination of numbers, or a date, can become ominous - how they can take on a weight beyond their intrinsic value and become transcendent, a sound bite short cut for a host of emotions and a common, shared history.

Today is September 11 – 9/11, as it were.

I still remember the day vividly, as most will. Mine began it with a 9 a.m. dentist appointment, sitting bored and impatient in a drab downtown office as rumors began to bubble up, feeling that I was missing something both obvious and important.

Details began to emerge; a thread of a story. A plane had hit. Another followed. Still, something was absent.

The few sitting in that little office shared our common surprise; though, in hindsight, it paled compared to the shock that would follow as the full story emerged. But, right then and there… On with the day. Bring on the poking and prodding. Bring on the floss. Bring on the cold water.

Then a realization from the back of my mind: my wife was in Manhattan.

With no phone service and modern communications severed, I raced to the office. A television had been set up in the kitchen and I arrived in time to see the first tower fall.

It’s difficult to describe the feeling of overwhelming and impotent panic that washed over me; that crushing uselessness. Despite some exceedingly clean teeth, I was stuck in Toronto, powerless to have any influence on the situation playing out hundreds of miles away.

I’ve heard the events of September 11 compared to Pearl Harbor, and as a student of military history I can appreciate the strategic and geopolitical implications of such an event. But it’s a simplistic and failed comparison.

I’ve stood over the grave of the Arizona and studied the names on the white wall of the monument that floats above it, and I can only imagine the ripples which that Day of Infamy caused in American society. I can only imagine the waves of telegrams that followed, a tide of misery flowing into thousands of little American towns, each a crushing missive to be hand-delivered to a home proudly displaying a flag that boasted a star for each son or husband serving under arms.

But, for all that grief, it’s a poor comparison still. The ripples that flowed out from New York that day stretched beyond the confines of America. They flowed here to Toronto and parts beyond. And they were felt not as the dull drumbeats of war, nor as empty news items to be grumbled over and forgotten. They were felt viscerally. They shook us all to our cores and tore us from our daily routines – American, Canadian, English, French, German, and all. They caught our breath, clean teeth or none, and paused the entire world.

In the years that have passed, much of the shock has worn off. Much of the legacy of that day has been squandered for political purposes. But it is vitally important that this date be remembered as more than just the starting gun for the latest round of manifest destiny.

It must be remembered as a day when our basest humanity was exposed, and as a race united, we looked towards a burning field and felt the weight of a core and common concern.

Editor, writer, producer and internationally known voice-over artist Don LaFontaine has died at the age of 68. You may not know the name, but I guarantee you know the voice. Check out this clip from YouTube as evidence:

Rest in peace, Don. I always loved listening to you.

I watched Davis Guggenheim’s An Inconvenient Truth for the fourth time last night, and I have to say, it stands the test of time fairly well. Who knew that a few university lectures and a couple of clips of Al Gore pondering his laptop could be so engaging?

But there is one scene in the film that catches me up every time. It’s that moment when Al Gore references a slide from a study looking at the economic cost of environmentalism. It features a scientist looking thoughtfully at a scale that balances the world against a pile of gold bars.

Says Gore: “We have here a scale that balances two different things. On one side, we have gold bars! Mmm… Don’t they look good? I’d just like to have some of those gold bars. Mmm… On the other side of the scales… The entire planet. Hmm…”

Gore makes a joke of it, and fair enough. Inherent stupidity deserves to be mocked. But there is something far more ominous in that slide I can never get past.

What gets me is that the globe is rotated to show Africa and Western Europe in prominence. What that slide actually says is: ‘You can make real money – or you can worry about those goddamn African babies who always seem to be starving; or those weak-kneed, European Liberal pussies who try to control everything.’

I’m not an overly sensitive person, but the inherent racism in that slide just blows me away. (Why wasn’t the world rotated to show America, for example, the world’s largest consumer of fossil fuels? Ah, don’t introduce patriotism into the equation. People might actually try to save the planet if their ass is on the line too.)

Al Gore isn’t a stupid person by a long shot, so I’m always left to wonder if he didn’t notice the slide, or decided to let it slip past, leaving it to the audience to read into it what they will.

It caught me up again last night, and I have to admit that I find it a little annoying. I get so caught up in what Gore is thinking, I stop watching the film for a few minutes.

Robert Plant (of Led Zeppelin) turns 60 today. When did everyone get old…? Me included.

I’ve finally had a chance to begin working my way through The Ten Thousand Day War, the 13-hour series about the Vietnam War produced by the CBC and Michael Maclear way back in 1980. The footage and access are remarkable, but I’m really struck by something else - the excellent journalism of series writer Peter Arnett.

Arnett first came to my attention (and probably the rest of the world’s too) during his coverage of the first Gulf War. CNN and Arnett stayed the course as the bombs began to fall, eventually becoming the sole news outlet reporting live from Baghdad. He details the experience in his book Live from the Battlefield - although I have to say Michael Keaton does admirable service to the story in his portrayal of CNN senior EP Robert Wiener in the HBO film Live from Baghdad.

Arnett has since fallen out of favor in North America thanks mainly to three controversial decisions/stories, namely: his coverage of the destruction of a baby milk factory in Baghdad which may or may not have actually been a chemical weapons factory; his limited participation in the Tailwind scandal; and for an interview he gave on Iraqi state television before the current Gulf War. He now spends much of his time working outside North America as the US networks are likely afraid to touch him. (The journalistic bravery of US networks being a whole other story…)

I can’t help but be struck by the irony of Arnett’s eventual fate as I watch Ten Thousand now. Early in the series, much attention is given to the incidents in the Gulf of Tonkin that precipitated America’s full military participation in the war. For a long time, it was common wisdom that the war began in earnest only after Vietnamese torpedo boats attacked US destroyers.

Problem is, it didn’t quite happen that way. The US government made up the attack story in order to sway public opinion. In fact, in 2005, the National Security Agency declassified materials confirming there had been no attack.

So, Arnett relates a false story he believes to be true and begins a storied career. Decades later, he relates stories he believes to be true and his career is blown apart.

I guess you just have to be careful whose narrative thread you’re tugging on…

According to figures released today by the Census Bureau, by the year 2050 the US population will reach 439 million. And, more importantly, by that time it is estimated that Hispanics, who currently make up about 15% of the population, will then account for 30%. For their part, Asian Americans will grow from the current level of about 5% to 9%. Lastly, the population aged 85 and older is projected to more than triple to 19 million.

Those shifts will bring enormous changes in culture, and with them enormous changes in media habits. Beyond the obvious shift - i.e. almost 40% of your viewers speaking English as only one of several languages, and possibly not their first - the way media is consumed will be entirely changed. New cultural influences will be in play that few can even guess at today.

Speaking as a non-American, this evolution will also have a huge economic impact on countries such as Canada. What happens when US business more comfortably looks South instead of North? Will NAFTA expand into South America, and if so, how will that affect Canada as cheaper labor influences the market? What will happen to production sectors in the UK, as nearly half the US population is looking for Spanish-language programming?

I’m nowhere near smart enough to answer those questions, but they are the ones we (and our children) will be struggling with. Those who adapt now will shape the media and economic landscapes of the future. Those who don’t…