Chicago 10

I don’t mean to be negative and give another bad review. . .let’s think of it less of a bad review and more of a step in my constant exploration of the role of art in social change work for engaging and innovative ways to portray issues of racial and economic justice.

This week my work co-hosted a screening of Chicago 10 that I went to with co-conspirator Fabricio Rodriguez, director of Philadelphia Jobs with Justice.

Chicago 10, a new film by Brett Morgen, mixes archival footage with animation to retell the story of the 10 activists who were arrested after the famous 1968 protests against the Vietnam War at the Chicago Democratic National Convention. In my days of reading biographies that I posted about earlier this summer, I had read both David Dillenger and Bobby Seale’s accounts of the trail, and was excited to see an innovative portrayal of all the different activist movements at that time that came together in this moment–the mostly white wacky-with-little-strategy Yippies, the non-violent student movements, the organizing in the black communities by Black Panthers and others. . .

This film was not that.

The animation was horrible, which I was actually willing to forgive for an independent production since animation is both expensive and time consuming. But the set up of the animation shots was also cheesy–odd shots that started on the ceiling of the court room and then swooped down for no other reason than what seemed like “aw, this is a cool effect.”

The music selection was mostly odd as well. The first 20 minutes there a continuous loop of a Rage Against the Machine song in the background so you felt like you were watching a music video. After that it ranged from classical music to reggae–the reggae music when Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin come into the court room wearing court robs in their Yippie challenging authority because they are white boys and they can kinda way. That is not only cliche to use reggae to connote a “relaxed lifestyle” but it’s also kinda inappropriate for a film that’s supposed to be smarter than that. Meanwhile–and this is true straight from the court records–Bobby Seale is literally chained to a chair and gagged and forced to sit humiliated in front of the whole court room. To me this is a classic example of white activists acting out their defiance of authority when it’s fun, but then when a fellow black activist–who wasn’t even supposed to be on trail because he was only in Chicago for 2 hours on the day of the protest–is chained and gagged in a court room for speaking up they say a few words to challenge the judge but nothing more. . . but I’m getting off topic now.

The film was confusing for me, put together in an incoherent way that never came together in the end. I feel like I know a moderate amount about that week of protests. If it was my first time learning about that historical moment I’m not sure that I’d have learned anything from this film, other than what each of those activists looked like in real life from the archival clips. Fabricio pointed out that there was no context–you just knew that there was a war and people thought it was bad, but there as no sense of what work had been happening, how they all came together in Chicago etc.

Of course, that’s just me. But I’m no juror at Sundance. . .

The Sweet By and By

Two weeks ago my sweetie and I went to see Pig Iron Theatre’s most recent piece that was a part of this year’s Live Arts Festival. I have to admit that I rarely go to plays–I’ve been to more plays in the past year with Noah than the 5 years before that, all inspired by him. Of the ones I’ve seen, Pig Iron has been by far my favorite.

A story about Joe Hill and the history of the IWW by my favorite theater troupe seemed like it’d top anything I’d seen yet. I’m sad to say though that Sweet By and By was a pretty big disappointment.  Jeff Hornstein, an organizer at SEIU Local 32BJ and colleague of mine through work, was there with his wife Pamela and in our  discussion afterwards summed it up best: The play wasn’t about collectivity, it was about despair. In the end of the story, the character gives up on the American union and returns to Sweden. There’s not even any complexity to the character’s decision. The film is very didactic and literal with little use of nuances or subtleness.

The positive part, which is a striking uniqueness of Pig Iron plays, is their innovative visuals. The most striking one was when the actor burned a piece of paper on stage that burned it into a shape of a heart. They also used a panel of envelopes to project images onto. The character interacted with this panel throughout the play using the envelopes as innovative props on the sparse set (including as the mouth of “the boss” which was pretty funny.)

I would love to see more art that doesn’t just romanticize labor unions of the past. I feel like most people think of them as a historic and dated way of coming together because of the portrayal of unions in film, tv, and theater. Until I got involved in the kind of work I do, I knew little about modern day unions outside of the Teamsters and the stories of corruption you hear in the news. Meanwhile, the reality in Philadelphia is that SEIU had a historic win in Philadelphia this time last year, and the Security Officers Union with Jobs with Justice won large pay increases and benefits for guards at U Penn and Temple campuses. Where are those modern stories to show people another successful collective shifting of power that is possible in this country?