The Bushmen (and women) are back -- in Simon Stadler/Catenia Lermer's GHOSTLAND

The very first scene of GHOSTLAND -- African natives viewing an airplane -- a new documentary about the bush people of Namibia, may have us elders recalling a very popular, though to my mind rather heavy-handed and condescending movie called The Gods Must Be Crazy, which detailed a Bushman's interface with modernity in a highly comic manner. This new movie, while having its funny moments, is much more even-handed (the earlier film was a narrative, in any case), as it shows us a bush tribe undergoing some change and adaptation to the world of today.

As co-written (with Catenia Lermer) and directed by Simon Stadler (the latter shown at right) -- this is a first film for each of them -- the movie makes up in simplicity, honesty and feeling what it may lack in slick professionalism. It captures the character -- individually and as a group -- of this unusual Ju'Hoansi tribe in ways that range from funny and charming to quietly compelling. The movie also makes its points without condescension -- to both those natives and the western world with which they must increasingly interact.

Initially, it's the western world that comes to them. "The first time we saw the white man, we thought it was a ghost," one of them explains (hence the movie's title), and even when the tribe gets to know the western world and its discontents, it still remains unconvinced. "Sometimes white people are crazy," one explains. "They want too much and work too much, and it seems they never sleep.” Amen.

Seeing a homeless man begging in a German city, "It seems white people can also be poor." Still, the tribe is indeed learning the ropes of "civilization." As one of them notes, "We have to work with the tourists to survive." First the whites and their crew get to know the natives (and so, of course, do we) and then they take them on a kind of "field trip" to the modern world. Seeing the tribe and its first experiece in a supermarket is as much of a wonder to us as the supermarket is to them.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the film takes our tribe into the world of another African tribe, the Himbas (that's a Himba woman, above), and the interplay is fascinating. Then the opportunity arises for four of the natives to take an extended trip to Germany where they will mix and even "teach." From being up in that airplane they watched at the film's beginning to taking a trip in the subway ("We are under the earth!"), the four tribe members take in our modern world in wonder but with irony and intelligence. And yes, they do teach.

The update we learn in the end credits is both helpful and sad. One wishes to know why certain events occurred. In fact, there is a lot more we might have learned here. But the filmmakers obviously preferred to simply watch and listen, rather than do a lot of questioning. Even so, what we see, hear and feel should make budding anthropologists thrill, and folk who love documentaries just happy to have experienced the film.

From Cargo Film & Releasing and Autlook Film Sales, Ghostland opens tomorrow, Wednesday, December 14, in New York City for a two-week run at Film Forum, Elsewhere? Not sure. But you can at least learn more via the film's website.

Is everything African for sale? Brügger's THE AMBASSADOR makes you wonder....

The popular, mid-20th-Century term "darkest Africa" takes on added meaning as you watch the new and pretty ugly (in all ways from subject matter to execution) documentary, THE AMBASSADOR from Danish provocateur Mads Brügger. With enough shaky hand-held camerawork to drive you up the wall and no particular visual acumen in terms of what or how to shoot, the movie looks drab, even when it's observing some nice scenery. This, however, is as nothing compared to the film's story and subject: the "purchasing" of ambassadorships, together with the food-chain low-lifes who make this happen -- both inside and outside of the Central African Republic (CAR) and its environs, where much of the movie takes place.

The "Ambassador" of the title is Mr. Brügger himself, above in close-up, posing as a certain Mr. Cortzen (our guy refers to this as "performance journalism"), a fellow who literally purchases his Ambassadorship. But not from a mere one man. No, there's a whole line of fellows (and a gal or two) along the way who facilitate this "buy," starting with the man who makes the initial connection so that Cortzen can meet two sets of bigwigs: those in the country whose Ambassador he is going to be (usually, but not always, an African one) and those in the CAR, where he will be stationed.

Why would anyone want a job like this? Well, diamonds (above), for a start, which these Ambassadors tend to trade in, taking them out of the country relatively risk-free because of their diplomatic immu-nity. Brügger/Cortzen first tries to buy an introduction from one fellow whose price is too steep, and then goes to another who's cheaper. (Turns out, you get what you pay for.) Finally he is connected to a man who owns or runs a diamond mine but who proves about as unreliable as everyone else in this documentary.

Once our man has ingratiated himself with the bigwigs and the locals, it helps to have some sort of "plan" which will help the coun-try in which he's stationed. Our guy comes up with the idea of star-ting a match factory (not a bad idea, actually), and perhaps using the local pygmy population (above and below) to man the factory.

Along the way, there is a nagging question of the Ambassadorship being stalled because the President of Liberia (one Ellen Johnson) is "away," then "can't sign," then "won't sign," then silence. There are all sorts of other questions, too, some coming from those involved in this process, some from "our" guy as "Ambassador," and some from our guy as film director. One early question is where is the money coming from for all these bribes Brügger/Cortzen must put out? The press material tells that Lars von Trier's Zentropa production company financed all this, but I don't recall being told that in the movie (I might have missed that moment, however).

Other questions come into play throughout -- such as what will happen to the match factory and the pygmies, once this whole hoax is unmasked? At one point Brügger tells us (and whoever he is speaking to) that he feels badly about all this -- because, of course, no factory and no employment is going to happen. Well, isn't that nice. Still, whatever it takes to make your documentary, right? For a time the movie seems to be treading ground traveled by A l'origine (click and scroll down). But, no. That real-life character/con-man turned out to be more interested in the welfare of his townspeople than is our Mr. Brügger/Cortzen.

The Ambassador does raise some unpleasant questions about diplomacy, culture, colonialism, ethics, and the like. The French, bless 'em, come in for quite a bit of condemnation; after viewing the film, you're likely to wonder if they're not among Europe's sleaziest. Brügger himself has got to be viewed as pretty brave for sticking his neck out in the manner. One of the men (the head of security for CAR, I believe) whom he interviews and uses in his film -- most of which seems to have been shot surreptitiously -- was assassinated midway through the making of the movie, for reasons that are never explained or perhaps even known. (This surreptitious filming certainly excuses some of the lack of quality in the film-making.)

While the whole idea of this movie is shocking and disgusting, the movie itself is only cursorily engaging, due to the fact that Brügger is much more of a provocateur than a filmmaker. You admire his chutzpah, and agree that, yes, this is a terrible thing that is going on. But as a movie-maker he isn't able to build up much suspense or excitement, and any laughs there might be mostly catch in your throat. And almost everything is left up in the air at the finale. (You'll have tons of questions at this point in the game.) It's all dark, and considering everything we see (or don't see), it's pretty pointless, too.

From Drafthouse Films, The Ambassador, with a running time of 93 minutes, arrives Wednesday, August 29, in New York City at the IFC Center. In the weeks to follow it will play in several other cities around the country. Click here to see all currently-scheduled playdates.

Bailey/Thompson's MUGABE & THE WHITE AFRICAN puts religious faith to the test

TrustMovies' head-
line would seem to indicate that the new documentary from Lucy Bailey (shown below, right) and Andrew Thompson  (below, left) concerns religion. It does, but it is about much more than that. Yet, by its finale, the most lasting impression made on me concerned the part in all this played by religion: the faith in "god" shown by the sad, buffeted and beaten (literally) white farm family who dares to stand up to Zimbabwe dictator Robert Mugabe and then endures his wrath as its case very slowly makes its way to the international court.

MUGABE AND THE WHITE AFRICAN is a difficult film to sit through because the deck seems so stacked against its protagonists, Michael Campbell (below, right) and his wife, his daughter Laura and son-in-law Ben Freeth (below, left).  We meet these people and spend time with them, as well as with some of the black workers for whom the family's very large farm provides work and income.  We also meet Freeth's family members, who, it is clear, have some misgivings about his whereabouts, though they support him, as good parents will, despite their fears.

We watch, first with concern, and then shock and horror as some of these misgivings come about.  We travel with Michael and Ben to the South African venue of the international court, where... well, you'll find out. We see the family threatened (below) and more, and we listen as they explain (and the filmmakers show) that there is no doubt that this family owns its farm legally and always has for the past several decades. But, due to Mugabe's "reclamation" of white-owned land -- supposedly to be given to poor blacks but in reality gifted to Mugabe supporters and friends -- the Campbell/Freeth clan is about to lose everything.

Why do they stand against a murderous African dictator?  First, it's the "principle of the thing" -- a phrase one hears (and witnesses examples of) less and less frequently in our times.  Even more strongly present is the enormous faith in god and his "will" that family members seem to possess.  They are Anglican, I believe, and their faith is generations old and evidently rock-solid.  The results of it are certainly on display by the end of the movie.

Filmmakers Bailey and Thompson show immense bravery in making this film and sticking it out with the family (who shows its own immense bravery), as its tale unfolds.  While you, as did I, may have a pile of questions at the ready during the movie, most of these will be swept aside by the very "emergency" nature of so much that transpires. If the film appears "homemade," that's because it is -- and we are probably lucky to have it at all.  By the end of its 94-minute running time, I and the companion with whom I viewed the film, were both shaken, depressed -- and truly confused about what we were expected to take away from this documentary. I don't think the movie means to be anti-religion/anti-god, but for the thinking person, there is hardly another conclusion to be drawn.

Mugabe and the White African, distributed by First Run Features, after its appearance at the Seattle International film Festival this past spring, opens today, Friday, July 23, in New York City at the Cinema Village.

Further playdates, with cities and theaters, can be found here.