Only
the most half-aware filmgoer can have failed to notice that
the documentary feature film is back in vogue. Well, 'back'
is probably pushing it a bit, as although feature length
documentary works have been with us since the early days
of cinema, you would be pushed to find a period when the
format was finding the sort of widespread appeal that it
has enjoyed in the past couple of years. Even in the heyday
of cinéma vérité, a documentary feature
would be very fortunate indeed to reach the sort of audience
that flocked to Fahrenheit 9/11 and its
ilk.
Of
course, timing is key here. It's impossible to overestimate
the importance of the digital video revolution, drastically
reducing the cost of production and yet delivering a quality
that survives the blow-up to 35mm film for cinema projection.
But wider access to production equipment in no way guarantees
a mass audience – without interest from a distributor or
a broadcaster, any documentary, no matter how important
its subject or how well delivered its message, remains incomplete
simply because it has not been allowed to connect with its
target audience. Bowling for Columbine may well have been the right film in the right place at
the right time, but its knock-on effect is still with us
two years later and shows little sign of abating. Last year,
for the first time I can recall, ALL of the films nominated
for the Best Documentary Oscar received very visible UK
cinema releases. OK, they may not have been sharing screen
space with the likes of Troy and The
Day After Tomorrow, but they were
out there in cinemas across the UK and they were getting
SEEN.
Which
all seems well and fine, but there's just one thing – fine
films though they are, the vast majority of the most widely
distributed, seen and written about documentary features
of the past two years have originated in North America and
have dealt with American issues, even if some of them have
global implications. Of course American films are always
seen as more marketable, a trend reflected in mainstream
cinema, but given the historical importance of the British Free Cinema documentary movement of the
1950s, you'd be forgiven for wondering where the British
films are in this new popular wave. Their absence is felt
not only in the cinema but on TV, as serious investigative
and political documentary works give way to trivial sensationalism
and the gladiatorial confrontations of increasingly celebrity-driven
reality television shows. For some time now, the film and
television establishment have seemed largely uninterested
in films that tackle difficult or unfashionable subjects
in any real depth, and the doors of both effectively remain
closed to anyone wanting to make such a work and get it
screened. So it is a bold and determined person who elects
to dedicate what can prove to be several years of the life
to creating such a work, armed only with what money they
can throw in themselves or beg from friends in the uncertain
knowledge that, once complete, there are no guarantees that
anyone will actually show it.
Enter
Franny Armstrong, who back in 1995 had no ambitions to be
a film-maker, but on hearing of the extraordinary story
of Helen Steel and Dave Morris, two London Greenpeace campaigners
who chose to take the might of the McDonald's corporation
in what was to become the longest civil trial in English
legal history, she borrowed a camera and, with no money
and no film-making experience, began documenting the case
and following the trial to its uncertain conclusion. She
even persuaded veteran director Ken Loach to come on board
and direct the courtroom reconstructions, a necessary aspect
given the refusal of McDonald's to allow any of their own
witnesses to be interviewed on the case. The completed film, McLibel
– Two Worlds Collide, told a tale
that was both illuminating and inspiring, the sort of film
guaranteed to attract an audience, you'd think. Yet no-one
seemed prepared to screen it – the fear of the McDonald's
legal arm was still strong and the list of those who had
folded under the threat of legal action was lengthy and
depressing, and included some of those who were spouting
all manner of unconvincing reasons why this film would not
really be of interest to their viewers. The film was actually
scheduled at different times for transmission on both the
BBC and Channel Four, but both screenings were cancelled
and McLibel began to take on the air of
a banned film.
Ever
determined and seemingly a glutton for punishment, Armstrong
had in the meantime founded Spanner Films, which she continues
to run with producer and all round technical and artistic
contributor Lizzie Gillett. With McLibel complete but still fighting for distribution, Franny launched
into her next project, Drowned
Out, another remarkable tale of
resistance in the face of corporate might, this time a small
group of Jalsindhi villagers who refused to be relocated
to make way for the Indian government's massive dam-building
project. Again it was made with no money and no commission
and was fuelled almost entirely by Armstrong's passion for her
subject and the willingness of others to give their time
for free. If you work for Spanner Films, it seems, you do
so not for any financial reward, but because you believe
in the project and what it is trying to say. As one of the
camera operators on McLibel said: "Most
films I do for my bank balance, but this film I do for my
soul."
They
followed this with Baked Alaska, an examination
of how some of America's wealthiest citizens are getting
rich on the back of oil profits in Alaska, the USA's second
largest oil producing state, while the local populace are
suffering because the area is warming ten times faster than
anywhere else in the world, thanks to climate change caused
by automobile petrol fumes. At a time when the British political
documentary seems to be almost an extinct species, Spanner
films appear to be carving themselves a very distinctive
and socially concerned niche.
Actually
getting the films screened has always been the prime concern
for the Spanner Films pair, and with broadcasters and distributors
unwilling to take the works on, they have taken to pushing
the films themselves in a variety of formats (you can even
watch them on-line on their web site), including an organised
'global screening' for McLibel after it
was pulled from UK TV transmission, where it received 104
simultaneous screenings in 22 different countries. As a
result, despite having no distribution deal, they estimate
that a staggering 26 million people have seen the original
cut. A recut of Drowned Out featuring a
'what happened next' ending received a US TV screening,
and yet there was still no interest from the TV companies
in the very country in which these films were made.
In
the end it was the work that first turned Franny Armstrong
into a film-maker that was to finally change all this. In
2004 Helen and Dave took their case to the European Court
of Human Rights to directly challenge the UK's libel laws
and won, providing a triumphant ending to their story and
Armstrong with the material to expand the original 53 minute
version to feature length. And what do you know, with McDonald's
no longer suing people left, right and centre and a successful
challenge made to the UK's imbalanced libel laws, the BBC,
who had repeatedly rejected the idea of commissioning the
film and pulled the first cut from a proposed
screening, agreed to show it after all under BBC4's prestigious Storyville banner.
The
response from those who saw it was, if the BBC's on website
feedback is anything to go by, enthusiastically positive.
"Almost everybody who's seen the film who I've spoken
to has said, 'Oh it is possible, ordinary people can change
the world'," recalls Armstrong. "But I remember
one person saying to me, 'Oh it's all hopeless, what's the
point of fighting?' And I said to them 'How can you say
that? You've just seen Helen and Dave, they've struggled
and struggled and they did win, they did achieve the aim.'
And then the person I was talking to said, 'Yeah, actually
you're right! What more evidence do I need?'" What
indeed.
Following
its two showings on BBC4, the film is likely to find an
even larger audience when it is re-screened on BBC2 on June
5 as part of a Storyville season featuring six
flagship modern documentary works, alongside the likes of
Errol Morris's Oscar winning The Fog of War,
Keith Fulton, Louis Pepe's Lost in La Mancha,
and Nicola Philibert's Être et Avoir,
a rare documentary box-office hit in its native France.
And so ten years after receiving the first rejection letters
from the BBC, Franny Armstrong gets to see the film she
believed in so passionately and gave so much of her time
to held up by the very same corporation as an example of
the modern documentary at its finest.
"I
have to admit to feeling a deep sense of satisfaction that
the story I always believed in for all those years, literally
for a decade, is finally going to get out to the public,"
said Franny of the screening. "In great numbers people
in this country are finally going to hear Dave and Helen's
story, and hopefully every single person will be as inspired
as I was when I heard it and hopefully will take action.
Obviously not everybody can make films but everybody can
do something."
Franny
points out that in many ways her own struggle to get the
film shown has suffered the same peaks and troughs as the
tale it tells. "It's funny, I do think my story mirrors
Helen and Dave's as well. They kept believing in it and
kept fighting and they didn't win the original trial and
I didn't win with the original film. Then they win in Europe
and finally it looks like McLibel is going
to go mainstream."
She
is also clear about one of the reasons for the BBC's apparent
about-face on screening the film: "I think the whole
climate has changed since 1997 and the original McLibel
trial. The success of films like Super Size Me and The Corporation and books like Fast
Food Nation and No Logo show now
that people can really do proper investigative muckraking
work about big corporations and not get sued for libel.
And that's a huge difference when you think about all the
different people, everybody who was sued pre-McLibel, everybody
from the BBC to the Sunday Times, to the Guardian and trade
unions and everybody had backed down, and now it seems to
have completely turned around. McDonald's haven't sued anybody
since, apart from one Italian food critic*. And it looks
like everybody's feeling very encouraged by Helen and Dave's
stand, and it's really opened the floodgates for criticism
about corporations."
With McLibel finally connecting with a more mainstream UK audience, it
is worth noting that both it and Drowned
Out are also available on Spanner
Films' own feature-packed and comprehensive DVDs, disks
that easily outshine the vast majority of big studio releases.
Typically, these were created in-house with the help of
willing and talented volunteers, and once again the process
of doing so was learned not by studying other examples of
the format, but just by doing what seemed right for the
release. That it took something like eight months of work
to create each of the DVDs is another example of the team's
dedication to their work, and it shows in the quality of
the disks, which are very professionally presented and crammed
with information on their subjects, all of the multitude
of extra features building on and complimenting the information
supplied by the films.
Though
the do-it-yourself approach a hugely time consuming process,
Franny sees definite advantages in it: "It was good,
I think, because we didn't really know how to make DVDs
and we weren't constrained by the normal boundaries. I hadn't
even seen that many DVDs to be honest. The way we made the
menus, for example, is apparently extremely unusual, just
having more and more and more CVs linked up to each other
and all that kind of thing. It seemed quite logical to us,
but to people who make DVDs we've done it in a very illogical
way, from their point of view."
But
for any true film fan the cinema remains the ideal place
to see any film, and that includes shot-on-video documentary
works, and to that end McLibel has now
been picked up for a limited cinema run in the US, with
a similar release promised for Drowned Out later in the year. For Franny, the cinema venue is an important
one, and it's not just about screen size:
"Sometimes
when there's an important subject that you're interested
in and there's a documentary on it on TV, you might not
be quite in the mood or if it's a big heavy subject, it
might not fit in because you might be going out or whatever,
whereas if it's at the cinema it's more of a commitment,
and once you go in there and you pay your money then you're
definitely going to watch it. And in a way I think the cinema
is a better location for watching these big issue documentaries,
giving them your whole concentration and committing to seeing
it, rather than TV, where you've got phones ringing and
people coming and going and that kind of thing. So I think
that when people go…it is a better experience and
certainly I much prefer seeing documentaries in the cinema."
With McLibel now starting to get the more widespread
recognition it deserves, are the days of struggling to make
films on no money finally over for the enterprising pair
at Spanner Films? There is still hope that Drowned
Out will be picked up for a more widespread UK
screening, and Franny does not rule out the possibility
of revisiting and reworking the film, McLibel style, especially given how closely the two stories mirror
each other – as with the McLibel case, the villagers featured
in Drowned Out very recently scored their
own post-original-film victory against a mighty opponent
when they successfully challenged the original Supreme Court
ruling on their resettlement, effectively winning against
the Indian government. These similarities are not lost on
Franny: "I've always thought that Narmada was McLibel
in India. No, it really is."
Their
next film is Crude, which Franny describes
as being about "oil and climate change and the end
of the world." Structured as a five-angled examination
of the oil industry in the mode of Steven Soderberg's Traffic,
it is again being made without a commission, but this time
Franny is working with John Battsek, the producer of Kevin
Macdonald's Oscar-winning One Day in September,
and has raised funding for the film by selling what effectively
amounts to shares in the production – for £500 you
could buy 0.5% of the film and its future profits. This
proved a very effective way of raising a budget, with almost
a hundred such shares being sold, giving the film a starting
budget of £50,000, an almost luxurious position given
the conditions under which Spanner's previous films have
been made.
"It's
worked out really well," said Franny, "and we've
had people making syndicates at their work and football
teams and that kind of thing to get one share, and if I
could finance all my films like that, that would be absolutely
perfect because then it's a collective effort. People who've
got a few spare quid can put it to something useful and
also feel involved in the film."
All
of which sounds optimistic for the future, but Franny is
uncertain about what lies beyond Crude,
and even if she will continue to make films. She became
a documentary film-maker not as a career choice, but because
she was drawn to a story that encapsulated many of the things
she was passionate about and felt a need to tell it to as
wide an audience as possible, and making a documentary seemed
the logical path to that end. But shooting and editing a
film of this type, especially on no money, requires an extraordinary
amount of work, time and dedication, often at the expense
of everything and everyone around you. It may well be that
after Crude is complete, Franny Armstrong,
documentary film-maker, will return to her first love, music,
and resume her career as a drummer. The increasing number
of those who have been impressed by her film work may wonder
if there is a way of combining the two, but Franny points
out that film-making at this level excludes just about anything
else. "Even boyfriends," she laughs. "They
go by the wayside. It's just so intense making a documentary
and it's so obsessed that you can't really do anything.
Every time I finish a film I have to buy all my friends
back, basically."
It's
difficult, though, to imagine someone of Armstrong's commitment
to her stories being able to turn her back on film-making
permanently. You can't help but feel that whatever she ends
up doing, sooner or later a headline will catch her eye
and trigger that need to document the story and tell it
to others that seems to drive her on, despite the difficulties
of even getting the film made, let alone shown. After all,
as both McLibel and Drowned Out all too clearly demonstrated, no matter how impossibly imbalanced
the fight may seem, a humble David can take on a corporate
Goliath and win, and despite the odds, one person really
can make a difference.
* The critic in question was Edoardo Raspelli, critic and commentator for the Italian newspaper La Stampa, who likened McDonalds' burgers to rubber and its fries to cardboard.
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