Showing posts with label Central America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Central America. Show all posts

Friday, November 16, 2018

¡LAS SANDINISTAS! -- Jenny Murray's stirring and informative documentary of Nicaraguan history, machismo and feminism


What an eye-opener is ¡LAS SANDINISTAS!, the first full-length documentary from actress-turned-director Jenny Murray. Those of us alive and aware of international politics/revolutions back in the 1970s would have known of the Sandinistas, the young revolutionaries set on deposing the corrupt and dictatorial tyrant Anastasio Somoza DeBayle (best-known as simply Somoza), who ruled the Central American country of Nicaragua from 1967 through 1979, whose family had been in power there since 1936. We might even have been aware, from the occasional photo or news story, that women were a part of that revolutionary group. But we could hardly have known just how important -- how utterly vital -- women were, at both that time and now, to the betterment of Nicaragua.

What Ms Murray, shown at right, gives us -- via a terrific interweaving of archival footage, photos and information with present-day interviews with some of the most important of those women -- combines to form a brief but compelling history of Nicaragua, as well as one of the strongest feminist movies you will have yet experienced. The documentary, without ever shouting or insisting, simply shows and tells us what these women accomplished at the time and how they have had to keep fighting ever since then for the justice and equality that ought to have long ago been granted.

The film begins (and returns again and again) to a woman named Dora María Téllez, who rose to the (unofficial) rank of top woman in the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional (FSLN), whom we see in her youth (above, center) as a resistance fighter and now, in her senior years (below), still fighting for Nicaragua and its citizens.

Ms Téllez and her ideas are so strong and right, and though the woman speaks quietly, what she has to say will stay with you. There are a half dozen other women we see and hear from, all worth our time and caring.

One of these is Daisy Zamora, shown at left in her younger days and below these days. Together, they paint a picture of the emerging Sandinistas that is a light year away from what our own despicable President Ronald Reagan would have had us believe about the group and what it was supposedly doing to its home country. We see that lying and demented sleazeball during the time he and his cohorts were illegally, treasonously funding the "Contras," and we finally hear, via these women, what this was like as experienced by "the other side."

In addition to Reagan, we also get a look at a much younger Bernie Sanders, who -- of course -- came out on the right side of justice, suggesting that more politicians should come to Nicaragua and simply see what the Sandinistas were achieving.

The documentary makes us aware of how these women did not simply bear arms and fight along with the men; they were also expected to perform the usual "women's chores" -- from cooking and laundry to all the rest. (One women explains the difficulties of having to give birth and tend to a her infant during the revolution.)

Most shocking of all comes as we learn how the women were betrayed, compromised and kept completely out of power, once the revolution had been won.

We've heard and seen over the years countless examples of Latin American "machismo." The extreme downside of this is on full display here. ("They're even prettier when they're fighting" explains one male soldier about his female counterparts.)

When we're finally told that many of these women left their husbands during or after the revolution was won, this may not come as much of a surprise.

The film is full of history that we seldom received word of up north (or may not readily remember): the 1972 earthquake that leveled much of the city of Managua (instead of helping his people cope, Somoza preferred to have his army shoot the looters); the Castle House Raid of 1974, after which the dictator cracked down with even more intense repression; the National Palace Raid of 1978 (Somoza billed the conflict as a fight between the usual "Communist Menace" and Democracy); and finally, July of 1979, as the dictator was ousted and the battle for freedom appeared to have finally been won.

The second half of the documentary covers the post-revolution period, right up to recent times, as we learn how women's place in Nicaragua has actually devolved. It's not pretty. Yet hearing and seeing how the woman continue to work so tirelessly in every possible manner to achieve whatever they can is uplifting rather than depressing. By the time we view the country's own Me2 movement -- with one woman actually taking a stand against revolutionary leader and Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega by outing him as a rapist -- speaks volumes about entrenched male power and the difficulties of anything approaching real change.

In one of the film's penultimate scenes, above, we see a grandmother and her grandchild together, just sitting quietly and answering a question or two. This is oddly and remarkably moving. And then we're back to Ms Téllez (shown below with rifle, just left of center) and her quietly bracing, intelligent words. ¡Las Sandinistas! proves itself a major work. It is difficult to imagine any woman, or any man who actually cares about women, not embracing it with pleasure and gratitude. I hope it is shown in every Latin American country -- where it is most needed.

From Film Sales Co. and running 96 minutes, the documentary opens in its U.S theatrical premiere this Wednesday, November 21, at New York City's Film Forum for a two-week run. It is also scheduled to open in Chicago on November 30 at the Gene Siskel Film Center, and then later in Santa Fe at the Jean Cocteau Cinema. To keep abreast of further screenings as they are scheduled, click here.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Mark Kendall's LA CAMIONETA: The Journey of One American School Bus


One of those Who-Knew? movies that acquaints you with a topic of which you knew little-to-nothing and then, unfortu-nately, leaves you wishing you knew a lot more, LA CAMIONETA: THE JOURNEY OF ONE AMERICAN SCHOOL BUS tells us about the after-life of many American school buses. Evidently, these buses, still in pretty good working order, are auctioned off, in many cases to Latinos who have come to the U.S. precisely to purchase them and then drive them back to... Guatemala!  Is this the only country south of the border all that interested in buying our used school buses?  As we don't hear otherwise, it would appear so.

The film's director, Mark Kendall, shown at left, has done a nice job of organizing his movie so that one of his and his narrator's themes -- the connections forged between people who have ridden in the same vehicle (the other is the utter precariousness of the lives of those men who drive these buses in Guatemala) -- is picked up at the film's beginning, shown now-and-then throughout, and then used for a quietly effective finale. Otherwise the director relatively effectively cuts between scenes of driving the bus to its destination and what happens to it, once there: design, paint job, chroming, and the like. We also learn that simply driving through Mexico is a crap shoot in which the driver's life is at risk.

Unfortunately, things don't get any better once the drivers reach Guatelmala. In the course of the documentary, we learn that, since 2006, nearly 1,000 bus drivers and and fare-collectors have been murdered for either refusing or being unable to pay the extortion money demanded by local gangs. One news report informs us that a recent attack "could be the result of not paying extortionists their Christmas bonus." (Viewers may have the sense that no irony at all is intended here.) Later we witness the police dragging off a bus the body of a dead man, perhaps the driver or the fare-collector.

Though we meet several of the bus men involved in all this -- Ermelindo, who purchases the buses; Angel, who drives them; and Mario, who does the artwork for them -- and some of their family members (scenes of family life alternate with the work on the particular bus we follow), we don't delve deeply at all into any of this. We do get an enormous sense of the injustice of it (something that seems to go with so many Central and South American countries, and that is increasingly seen here in our own, as the USA becomes more and more of a Banana Republic -- and I am not referring to that clothing chain).

One might have wished that Mr. Kendall could have done more investigation, though given the state of the corrupt police force (a nod to this is told us along the way), any investigation might have resulted in very bad problems for the filmmaker and his Guatemalan friends. The one scene of a politician promising to help, and a widowed mother and her child being used to promote that help seems like very little very late.

Once the bus in finished and ready for action, it gets a blessing from the local pastor/priest, along with a special St. Christopher story (he's the patron saint of travelers, in case you didn't know), showing us once again that religion is indeed the opiate of the masses. In this case, as in so many others, it's pretty much all these masses have got. There is no "Afterward" given us as the end credits roll, but since it has been at least two years since the filming took place, it might have been nice to let us know if all (or any) of the bus-involved folk we've met here are still alive.

La Camioneta (from IFP), a slight film with a slight running time of 71 minutes (including six minutes of credits), opens this coming Friday, May 31, for an exclusive one-week theatrical engagement at the reRun Gastropub Theater in Brooklyn. On June 7th, it opens in Los Angeles at the Downtown Independent, and on July 2, it hits San Diego via the Digital Gym. Elsewhere? I'm not certain. But a DVD ought to be in the works eventually.