I'm not an authority on Middle-Eastern politics or any politics for that matter. So my voice is merely an opinion. But it seems to me, that an American invasion of Iraq seems awfully similar to colonization. Much like what the European colonists (Portugal, France, England, Spain) said when they colonized Asia, Africa and South America. It was something to the effect of showing these countries a better and more civilized way of life (while taking the countries resources to make their own richer--the gold in West Africa, the diamonds in South Africa, spices in Asia). Replace the words. American wants to show Iraq a better/more civilized way of life (democracy) by way of arguing that they are ridding the country of a dictator, replacing him with an American-friendly leader, and then using the countries resources (oil) to make American corporations richer. Why is everyone letting this happen?!
Again, I'm no political pundit but I've done my time in a formerly colonized nation and it's not pretty. If this is really about democracy, how come George Bush isn't sending U.N representatives into Iraq to ask what the Iraqi's want?
Some opinions from Iraqis quoted from the NY Times.
The Stones of Baghdad
By NICHOLAS D. KRISTOF
"If American military strategy assumes popular support from Iraqis facilitating an invasion and occupation, the White House is making an error that could haunt us for years.
After scores of interviews with ordinary people from Mosul in the north to Basra in the south, I've reached two conclusions:
1. Iraqis dislike and distrust Saddam Hussein, particularly outside the Sunni heartland, and many Iraqis will be delighted to see him gone.
2. Iraqis hate the United States government even more than they hate Saddam, and they are even more distrustful of America's intentions than Saddam's.
"America is a new colonial power that wants to dominate," warns Rahim Majid, a farmer from Karbala.
"Americans are not coming to help us, but for our oil," frets Naseem Jawad, a merchant in Najaf.
My own reaction to that. Too true. Too true.
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I know this is predominantly a film website, hence the title, but there is a new opera out by Philip Glass and it's something I had to note here. He is one of my favorite composers (along with
Zbigniew Preisner, composer of all Krzysztof Kieslowski's films) and I have found myself in numerous debates in his defense. I argue Philip Glass is a genius. Others argue, he's not. Anyway, another link to the NY Times on his latest work, "Galileo Galilei"
(see article).
Here is an excerpt. The entire article is a little too lengthy to post.
A Heretical Astronomer Rethinking His Revolution
By ALLAN KOZINN
"...Galileo's life offers ample drama for the opera stage, as well as a good measure of philosophy about the often fraught relationship between religion and science. Mr. Glass, Ms. Zimmerman and Mr. Weinstein present his story in reverse chronology; it is the operatic equivalent of the film "Memento."
That approach seems right: we meet Galileo as a blind old man doubting some of his choices and priorities, and as the 95-minute work unfolds we see his disavowal of his support for the Copernican notion that the earth is not the center of the solar system, his appearance before the Inquisition, an enactment of the reasoning he presented in "Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief Systems of the World," and a few of his early moments of experimentation and discovery. As an epilogue, we see him as a child, attending an opera by his father, the composer Vincenzo Galilei, and using his program as a telescope.
Mr. Glass's music, which the Eos Orchestra played expertly under William Lumpkin's direction, has a spare, chamber quality that allows the vocal lines (and text) to be heard clearly — a good thing, since supertitles are provided only intermittently. Several of his longstanding signature moves make appearances (syncopated brass chords, for example), but there are some new touches as well, including a bit of invigorating dissonance. Much of the vocal writing is familiar Glassian declamation, but there are some sweetly lyrical touches, too, including a lovely aria for Galileo's daughter, sung affectingly by Alicia Berneche.
John Duykers sang the aged Galileo's music powerfully, and if Eugene Perry sounded a bit dry as the younger Galileo (who takes over midway through the work), he conveyed a sense of the scientist's philosophical robustness. Andrew Funk also made strong contributions as the Pope (and in several smaller roles).
The production runs through Saturday."
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Once upon a time--a long, long time ago--when I was in a third-world country, getting up at two in the morning to write meant complete and utter quiet. It was understood that writing in the wee hours meant concentration, stillness, and a certain serenity. The city was , for all intensive purposes, dead.
Things are pretty damn different here in L.A. Not only is half the town up writing as well, the other half is either shooting a film/porno/indie or sitting in a jacuzzi (my neighbors). Their voices, incidentally, are the reason I'm up in the first place.
All that to say, I'm having trouble sleeping and thought I'd get a little work done on my website and on some of my writing. I can still hear my neighbor's conversation from the computer. Are they
that loud? Is it possible? At two in the morning?! And no, it doesn't really bother me so much as it surprises me.
So that's it. Just a little note penned in utter boredom.
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I've linked to an interesting NY Times article on an Afghan film, "FireDancer"
(see article) which will be playing in New York at the Quad cinema for a week, starting December 19, to qualify for the Academy Awards. For those of you in New York, please check it out. It hasn't found distribution yet and the story surrounding the death of the director is a little eerie. The NY Times is ocassionally iffy about letting in non-members, so I've also posted the article below. You can link or just scroll down...
Tragedy Haunts Film on Afghan Diaspora
By DINITIA SMITH
Sometimes it seems to Jawed Wassel's Afghan-American friends in New York that his ghost hovers over his unfinished film, "FireDancer." As they struggle to complete the editing of "FireDancer," about the efforts of Afghans to assimilate into American culture, they say they feel the presence of its murdered creator among them. When there's a sudden gust of wind, an electrical short — it is as if Mr. Wassel were sitting there with them, as still and as calm as ever in the midst of chaos, said Vida Zaher-Khadem, the associate director. "I don't think I've ever believed that he is dead," she added.
Last Oct. 4 Mr. Wassel's dismembered body was found in a van on Long Island belonging to Nathan C. Powell, one of the producers of "FireDancer." Police arrested Mr. Powell and charged him with murdering Mr. Wassel, who was 42, after the two argued over Mr. Powell's stake in the film. Mr. Powell pleaded not guilty to the charge, and he is scheduled to go on trial for second-degree murder in Nassau County on Nov. 20.
"FireDancer" is described by its producers as the first dramatic feature about Afghan-Americans, some of whom immigrated to the United States to escape from the Soviet invasion and the rule of the Taliban. The film which does not have a distributor yet, is scheduled to be shown at the Quad Cinema in Manhattan for one week beginning on Dec. 19 to make it eligible for the Academy Awards.
The film tells the story of Haris (played by Baktash Zaher, 26, Ms. Zaher-Khadem's brother), a hip, handsome Afghan-American artist who shows his work at a downtown Manhattan art gallery. He seems to be an all-American guy except that he creates strange installations of hanging ropes, and suffers from visions — of himself as a child in Afghanistan in traditional dress, of smoke and bombs, of his dead parents and the Russian soldier who shot them during the Soviet invasion.
Haris embarks on a journey through the world of Afghan-Americans to learn more about their culture, and there he finds both humor and tragedy. He befriends Sunny, an Afghan immigrant hot dog vendor, whose son is a would-be rapper. "Show Uncle Haris what you can do," Sunny tells the youth. The young man raps maniacally, "For my hip culture I will fight/ With two fists clenched tight."
Sunny offers Haris his own wry perspective on Afghanistan's endless civil wars. Haris has nightmares, Sunny tells him, because he has been away from his people. "But I have them," Sunny says, "because I'm with them 24 hours a day."
Haris falls for Laila, a fashion designer who still carries the expectations of her traditional parents. Laila doesn't talk to Afghan men, she says, "because they jump from, you know, `hello' to marriage."
Later, in a cafe, when the two argue over what to drink, the waiter hovering over them quips, "You must be Afghans." When Haris asks how he knows, the waiter replies, "Because you can't agree on anything."
The Afghan-American women are still expected to marry men their parents choose, and to obey even younger brothers: "Let me tell you something," Laila's little brother, Farhad, says. "You're not going to date no one. You're not going to go to no clubs, and you're not going to marry someone who is not Afghan."
Ms. Zaher-Khadem said that some Afghan-American women who appeared in the film used stage names for fear of censure from their conservative families.
Last month, when the producers flew to Afghanistan to screen a rough cut of "FireDancer" in Kabul's soccer stadium, once the Taliban's execution ground, Islamic fundamentalist demonstrators disrupted the event to protest scenes of women in low-neck, sleeveless dresses. To calm them, Ms. Zaher-Khadem put her hand over the lens to blot out the offending images, only to have others among the 2,000 people in attendance roar their disapproval.
Mr. Wassel was born in Kabul in 1958. His father was an army general who died of natural causes when Jawed was 18 months old. His great-grandfather was a poet. Mr. Wassel went to the French Lycée Istiqlaal, in Kabul where he dreamed of becoming a filmmaker. In 1979, after the Soviet invasion, his mother sent him to Pakistan for safety and he later lived in France and Germany.
In 1985 Mr. Wassel came to the United States. He graduated from Hunter College and worked as an assistant director and acting instructor Off Broadway. It was at Hunter that he met Mr. Powell, who is today accused of murdering him.
In 1998 Ms. Zaher-Khadem said, Mr. Wassel ran into Mr. Powell on the street, and asked for help in raising money for his film. Mr. Powell's lawyer, Thomas J. Liotti, said that Mr. Powell had studied film at Columbia and wanted to make movies.
Eventually, Mr. Wassel raised about $500,000, Ms. Zaher-Khadem said, much of it from the Afghan diaspora. She said that Mr. Powell did not put money into the film.
Mr. Powell said in a telephone interview from Nassau County jail where he is awaiting trial that he murdered Mr. Wassel because "I believed he had contacts with the Taliban." He said that Mr. Wassel had visited Afghanistan before the Sept. 11 attacks. Mr. Powell also said that Mr. Wassel, "threatened to kill me." He dismembered Mr. Wassel's body, he said, because "it was an honor killing."
Mr. Wassel's friends called talk that he was a Taliban sympathizer ridiculous. "Jawed hated the Taliban," Ms. Zaher-Khadem said.
The summer before the attacks, she said, Mr. Wassel and the filmmakers went to Afghanistan with the permission of the Taliban to film a documentary called "Return to Afghanistan." The group left out of concern for their safety, Ms. Zaher-Khadem said, after members of a Bible group were arrested for teaching Christianity to Afghans.
"FireDancer," Mr. Wassel's feature film, was shot in New York and metropolitan Washington with an almost all-Afghan cast.
Mr. Wassel met Ms. Zaher-Khadem, 28, and her brother Baktash, when he put up a casting notice at George Mason University in Fairfax, Va., which has many Afghan-American students and from which Ms. Zaher-Khadem graduated. Their grandfather Qhyamuddin Khadem was an Afghan poet and government official. Their mother, Zeba Khadem, has been a broadcaster to Afghanistan for the Voice of America for 20 years.
In many ways, "FireDancer" represents a collaboration between Afghanistan's traditional warring groups. The Khadems are Pashtun and Sunni Muslims, and Mr. Wassel was Tajik and Shiite.
All were American citizens, but after the Sept. 11 attacks, F.B.I. agents questioned them, they said. Baktash Zaher had graduated from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, in Daytona Beach, Fla. It was believed that some of the hijackers may have taken flying lessons there. Mr. Zaher said that after Sept. 11, he voluntarily got in touch with the F.B.I. through a lawyer and notified it that he had gone to Embry. He said that a few days later, at 4 a.m., F.B.I. agents came to the apartment he shared with Mr. Wassel. After interviewing them the F.B.I. did not contact them further, Mr. Zaher said. (It was later determined that none of the hijackers of the terrorist attacks had attended Embry-Riddle.)
On Oct. 4 last year, Mr. Wassel was scheduled to attend a screening for investors in "FireDancer" at DuArt Film and Video on West 55th Street in Manhattan. "He didn't show up," Ms. Zaher-Khadem said. It was an important screening and his colleagues worried when he didn't arrive. "We had called the cops," she added. Ms. Zaher-Khaden recalled that when Mr. Powell arrived at the screening and sat down next to her, "I said, `Where is Jawed?' He said, `I saw him going toward the F train yesterday.' "
That night, Nassau County police officers said, they spotted Mr. Powell's van weaving near the entrance to Bethpage State Park. They stopped it, they said, and found two boxes of body parts in the back. Later, the officers added, Mr. Wassel's head was found in Mr. Powell's freezer in his Long Island City apartment, next to the moving company where he worked.
In making "FireDancer," Ms. Zaher-Khadem said, Mr. Wassel found himself by entering into the world of Afghan-Americans. "He wanted to find out about his community. He was taken away from it at 16, at an age when you still want to know who you are. That was Jawed's struggle. When he was trying to raise money, he would meet all these people. It was the first time he had gone into these communities."
"Jawed did feel the loss of his father growing up," she said. "He felt survivor's guilt, having left Afghanistan and not doing anything during the war."
"In the film, the further the character is from himself, the darker those images are," she said. But as he draws closer to his own traditions, she added, "Slowly, it goes away."
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Today I went to see a screening of
Welcome to Collinwood and while I was in line, I happened to run into a friend who had come along with other friends/work-mates. There was a little bit of a wait so we got to know each other, revealed a little about ourselves, made comments on not so important things... the usual introductory/stiff chit-chat.
And what I discovered, and it sounds awfully mean, is that I just don't feel comfortable around studio exec types. They were from a small studio, a certain famous actor's production company, but they were so... sterile. My friend has been there four weeks and she's usually this wild, uninhibited and free spirit. This new persona, suddenly done up in a suit, just didn't seem to be her. Then I thought, I guess if she's learning and growing and she's happy, why not? Still, after the forced conversations and the okay-but-not-great movie, I ducked out early so as not to feel the need to force
more conversation and
more meaningless dialogue.
I don't know. Maybe it's just me. But there's something very real and interesting and true about people who work outside the film industry. And even though I write and direct films, something has become very apparent to me. It's something I've been in denial with for a while 'cos I've tried hard to mix, feel comfortable, fit in. And I don't. So I came to terms with myself tonight and admitted certain truths. I just don't want to spend my time around office-studio types. They're dull. They're elitist. They're from a world that I never want to identify myself with... even if, my chosen career, means working intimately with said people. It's ironic how much I can love film, love making films, and hate the very people that work in them. It's sort of sad.
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