Bloody Sunday

Paul Greengrass's Bloody Sunday was a revelation in docudrama. It's riveting, gritty, chilling, sickening, but not in the least bit exploitative or overdone. In 1972, during a pro-I.R.A. civil-rights march in Londonderry, Northern Ireland, 27 unarmed civilian protesters were gunned down by the British Army, and 13 killed. Though Greengrass is obviously on the side of the Irish-Catholic demonstrators, he presents two contrasting points of view throughout the film. We see the protestors, ordinary Irish folk, lead by Ivan Cooper, their member of Parliament (a wonderful performance, full of gravity, by James Nesbitt); and we see the under-trained soldiers in British Army preparing for the confrontation, their anxiety, their disdain for the Irish “hooligans” and their confusion going in. The events are presented simply but deftly, building with tense emotion to the imminent clash.

The camera is handheld, but most importantly, not too hand-held, avoiding the jerky motion-sickness-inducing motions of The Blair Witch Project but lending the aesthetics of documentary film. And there is no music throughout, just dense soundscape and overlapping dialogue. Bravo! There is nothing I hate more than inappropriate or overdone music.

Until the end, anyways, when it faded to black and the credits started to roll. Oh no, I thought, there’s going to be a U2 song now. And there was! It took me a moment to realize that the song was, what else, Sunday, Bloody Sunday, and then I remembered that I used to love this song when I was a teenager and was really into U2. But now, I have trouble taking U2 seriously after they became ironic rock stars, then at some point, seemed to lose the irony.

But that's such a trivial digression. Bloody Sunday reminded me of every civil rights movement in history, of Kent State, Tianenman Square. It's an amazing feat of filmmaking, and having seen it, I might reconsider seeing United 93, Greengrass’s portrayal of the events of 9/11 and the plane that didn’t reach its target (though I’m still not convinced of the necessity of that film's existence). Bloody Sunday, however, is a completely necessary film, an outrage, a challenge, an impassioned shout for justice. See it!

The Cove

One of the most talked about documentaries on the film circuit this year opened in theatres this week, and having found ourselves with a rare afternoon off, Joe and I of course went to go see The Cove, a documentary about a small, carefully-guarded lagoon in Japan, where over 20,000 dolphins are killed every year. The press about this film has been overwhelmingly positive and I have to add my voice to the accolades, and my most sincere urging to go see it. It’s not only an activist film, but a taut, harrowing thriller. It teems with passion, and rarely did I feel that it was showboating or soapboxing.

Joe, a staunch vegetarian, ranted afterwards about people who are horrified that anyone could eat a dolphin, but who are happy to eat cows or pigs, to which I had no reply, since I might be counted as one of those people. And sure, I could see his point, being a lapsed vegetarian myself (but oh, the bacon...!). On the way home from the theatre, I had a craving for a Vietnamese salad roll with shrimp and sliced cold pig (why not call it what it is?), which I got at a great little take-out place on Jean-Talon Blvd. It was delicious! But I recognize that I should at least be extremely picky about the animals that I do eat on occasion, which I mostly am. What constitutes “extremely picky” would constitute a whole other discussion, rather than a simple digression. But I digress... I hope this doesn’t distract from the issue at hand!

Most people I’ve spoken to don’t want to see this film. I, too, had hesitations. I could imagine the horror of a dolphin slaughter perfectly well, and didn’t want to have to see it.
However, I can say that The Cove is not needlessly violent, and there is only the one main slaughter scene, the crux of the movie. The Cove is more about the efforts of Ric O’Barry (Flipper’s trainer-turned-activist) and the filmmakers to expose the secret slaughter, and the espionage aspects of the narrative certainly are tense, but it's great storytelling as well. By the time the slaughter is finally captured, we are well-prepared for it, and on the side of O’Barry and the film team. The Cove is really well-made and passionate documentary, and needs to be seen.