Armenia's Position in World Cinema

The film festival season has been over for several weeks, and one in specific, I feel, showcases films from around the world better than others.

The AFI Film Festival included films from all around the world, showcasing international films in world cinema. These film festivals are opportunities for film lovers to catch up on films from diverse countries in a forum that allows audiences to see films that could potentially never even see a release in the United States. The participating films and countries for this year included Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (2011, Turkey), Alps (2011, Greece), The Forgiveness of Blood (2011, Albania), among others.

These films are all part of their respective nations, and national cinema becomes a complicated term to discuss when explored in depth. Jiro Dreams of Sushi (2011, Japan) and Kinyarwanda (2011, Rwanda) are perfect examples of this complication. The films both won the World Cinema award, even though their filmmakers are both American. The films are still considered to be Japanese and Rwandese, respectively, because of their origin of finance.

These films, and national cinema in general, play a significant role in globalization, and cinema itself provides us a look into other cultures. These films teach us about their cultures and share their identity with the rest of the world. This is particularly important with countries such as Armenia, which are not major tourist destinations in comparison to other countries.

In the case of national cinema, funding and financial support from governmental institutions help establish such film culture. The Armenian State Committee of Cinema helped shape Armenian identity in the early years of Armenian cinema, providing us with exceptional films and filmmakers, but since then, it has become increasingly difficult to obtain governmental funding.

The current state of the industry seems to be focusing on television shows rather than motion pictures. This shift is undoubtedly because of production costs; television shows are being produced for little or no money, allowing a separate forum for exploring engaging stories.

The notion, however, that a feature film will be expensive to produce is false. Iran’s film that participated at the AFI Film Festival was, A Separation (2011, Iran). The film was produced for $500,000 (Kinyarwanda was produced for a mere $400,000) and was one of the most talked about films of the festival. The film is about real people in real situations, exploring Iranian culture and identity through melodrama. So, what’s the real reason that the Armenian nation never participates with a film? If a film can be produced with such small budgets, where are the stories that we can share with the rest of the world?

The filmmakers from Armenia have spread across the world and many of them are perfecting their craft in other nations. The filmmakers still working in Armenia are then faced with difficulties in financing the projects. That’s precisely where governmental funding should kick in, decreeing a fixed amount of finances to various filmmakers. In a digital world, production costs drop dramatically, and instead of making one or two major films, we can now afford to produce five or six (or more) films on small budgets and through a digital workflow.

These organizations can further advance Armenian film culture and allow its filmmakers to become part of international cinema. In the same manner that films from decades ago explored the cultural changes at the same, the cinema of the present can explore the rapidly evolving climate and emphasize individual potential.

If Armenians can shift their focus from television back to cinema and take their creativity and ingenuity to motion pictures, we can establish an international presence in world cinema.

PHONY 2012

Joseph Kony is a bad guy. This much we know and can all agree.

The Ugandan war criminal, who runs the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), an organization known for kidnapping children, turning them into sex slaves and soldiers, is the subject of a viral film that has generated over 85 million views in less than three weeks. Jason Russell, the director of the film, KONY 2012, calls for immediate action and tells his audience "KONY MUST BE STOPPED." The 30-minute film was released on YouTube on March 5 and hundreds of people have voiced their support for the cause with tweets and shares.

The filmmaker's goal has been to raise awareness and have people worldwide know Joseph Kony by name... among other things.

Joseph Kony is currently number one on the International Criminal Court's most-wanted list, so again, there's no question about the fact that he is a criminal. The problem, however, comes on the part of Jason Russell himself and whether his film is meant to educate viewers and raise awareness or simply commercialize these conflicts.

KONY 2012 fails in addressing the fact that Kony and his band haven't been active in Uganda for years now. The LRA has moved onto other countries, but the film doesn't urge action outside of Uganda. The film instead portrays Ugandans as helpless victims at a time when Kony isn't their biggest concern.

The film also fails in educating its audience about the conflicts. Jason Russell, who interestingly enough was detained last week for masturbating in public in San Diego, uses his five-year-old son, Gavin, as means of simplifying these issues. In showing his son images of Kony, he points out that Kony is the "bad guy," whereas others, such as Jacob Acaye - a former child abductee from Uganda - is a "good guy." In effect, the filmmaker treats his audience as five-year-olds, oversimplifying these issues as if we, like his son, are uneducated about the world.

The film fails in educating its viewers about the conflict in Uganda and rather uses filmic techniques, such as rapid editing, to emotionally exhaust its viewers. The film repeatedly tells its audience that we must "stop at nothing" and takes us on an emotional roller coaster. In using an emotional narrative rather than an educational one, Jason Russell convinces his audience to donate to his efforts by having viewers purchase a $30 "action kit," which will go toward bringing Kony to justice. This itself becomes questionable; if a filmmaker wants to raise awareness through a documentary film, he wouldn't use an emotional narrative to persuade his viewers to donate money to him. The film, however, does just that; by the time the filmmaker asks you for $30, you're wiping away the tears in your eyes just to grab your wallet.

The backlash the film has received claims that a significant portion of the money donated to the project goes to travel expenses and filmmaking rather than efforts in helping find Kony. There have been several open letters to the filmmaker, asking where the donated money actually, but we'd assume the filmmaker has too busy masturbating in public to immediately have answers for us.

In addition, the timing of the film and its title, KONY 2012, is more concerned with commercial interests than anything else. In effect, the filmmaker commercializes the Ugandan conflict in which thousands of people have lost their lives. The title of the film itself speaks to the upcoming presidential elections, drawing attention to itself, as if he were selling us a product rather than making an educational film.

There's no question whether the subject of the film, Joseph Kony, deserves to be brought to justice. It's clear that he and his organization is responsible for thousands of deaths; what's questionable is how we use cinema and documentary films to bring attention to these conflicts and issues. In the case of one filmmaker, he feels the need to commercialize off these issues. In simplifying these conflicts and making Kony the clear "bad guy," he urges his audience to do the right thing and donate money to him, which he assures us will "stop Kony."

This Film Will Be Subtitled

The increasing difficulties that Armenian national film culture faces – in particular, a lack of resources and finances – is an obstacle that prevents us from creating films. There are, however, other difficulties that keep us from sharing the films we already have with the rest of the world. In this sense, these problems are self-inflicted.

These difficulties come in the form of a lack of programming in theatres and a lack of subtitles on home media. The most important thing, in terms of having Armenian films seen, is access. The lack of access prevents audiences from seeing films that are part of Armenian culture and restricts Armenian culture in establishing a sense of identity.

The older generation remembers watching Armenian films as they were released. They also grew up watching older films on television, such as Pepo. These films were engrained into their sense of culture. They grew up knowing these characters and stories and anticipated new film releases. The younger generation, however, and the Diaspora, in particular, is less familiar with these films. The lack of access to these films keeps us from seeing these works and learning from them.

The production of more films will shape Armenian national film culture, but that itself will take time. The other option we have in shaping Armenian film culture is to share the films that we currently have with audiences. If the Alex Theatre, for instance, began programming Armenian films and screened a film a month, audiences would be reintroduced to these films. The older generation would flock to the theater to see films they haven’t seen in years, whereas the young generation will have an opportunity to see films they otherwise never knew existed.

There are a number of revival theatres that program and screen films of all cultures. There are film festivals that focus on programming international films for audiences. The only opportunity, at the present moment, that allows classic Armenian films to shine on the big screen is the Arpa International Film Festival. If we could, however, interest theatres to begin programming Armenian films, this will create a venue for sharing these films.

This, then, brings up the question of, how these films would be screened. This ties into the second problem we face, which comes in the form of our only other way of consuming media; DVDs. These films, many of which are available on DVD, lack an option for subtitles. If theatres begin screening these films, DVDs are one of their few options, unless a print of the film is available. The lack of a subtitle option, however, becomes problematic. This prevents non-Armenians from discovering Armenian cinema; all foreign films available online can be purchased and watched, regardless of language, because almost all are equipped with English subtitles. The few Armenian films we have on DVD lack an option of subtitles. This problem – which is an easy fix – prevents us from sharing these films with the rest of the world.

The resolution of these issues, both of which have simple solutions, will allow the current line of films reach a wider audience. These films have been ignored, but if given a chance, these films will captivate audiences, now more than ever, because of their minimalism. These are measures we can take upon ourselves, because instead of being the source of these problems, we can take responsibility and make sure the rest of the world sees what we have to offer in terms of cinema.

Film Preservation

There’s no way of knowing how much of cinema has been lost.

The belief is that approximately 75 percent of silent cinema has disappeared, while an equally high number of sound films made in the United States before 1950 have been damaged or destroyed.

These numbers serve as a striking reminder of the importance of film preservation.

In Martin Scorsese’s film, Hugo, we learn about this significance. Hugo is essentially a film history lesson wrapped up in a family film in 3D. The filmmaker shows us the importance of acknowledging our past and never forgetting our history. In the film, the title character Hugo is a young orphan living in the walls of a train station in Paris. Hugo stumbles upon Georges Méliès, who runs a toy shop in the train station, but little does the boy know that Méliès was one of the pioneers of cinema. So, while Hugo tries to preserve the legendary filmmaker’s history, the filmmaker himself tries to forget his past.

In the early years of cinema, films were filmed on an unstable, flammable cellulose nitrate film base, which required careful and proper storage to prevent decomposition. There was no real concern from the studios to save these films, mainly because they deemed many of their films insignificant.

In Scorsese’s film, we learn that Méliès even went so far as to scrap the cellulose in his film to make a few extra dollars. It’s heartbreaking just to think of such a thing – a legendary filmmaker in need of money resorts to destroying his films, many of which laid the groundwork for cinema!

In general, this is never a major issue for the general public. In fact, a lot of people might be unaware of this phenomenon. The fact is that films must be stored under proper conditions, or else they will deteriorate over time.

In today’s society, we strive for the highest picture quality possible because of high-definition television. The notion of film preservation then becomes a concern for all of us. If we are to have the highest image quality possible, we must turn to original negatives of a specific film, but as often is the case when those negatives have deteriorated, all we are left with are lower quality prints.

That’s precisely the case with Armenian films as well.

The DVD copies of Armenian films claim that the films have been “digitally restored,” but the original negatives to most of these films no longer exist. The film is then restored from later prints. This works like photography; the further away we move from an original print, the lesser the quality will be. These films instead are being transcribed into digital, with no real restoration going into them.

In 1990, Scorsese established The Film Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving films. This however ins’t enough; for every film we save, thousands disappear. In a number of decades, we could (and will) potentially lose a number of classics.

So, while Scorsese and other filmmakers are saving a number of films – and rightfully so – who’s caring for Armenian films?

The problem is there isn’t so much we can do, as a public. The preservation and restoration of these films requires a great deal of time and money. The most important thing we can do is raise awareness. If a film from an Armenian filmmaker is screening in a local cinema, try to make the trip and see the film on the big screen. In a short number of years, revival houses and repertory theatres will be few and far between.

If you see an Armenian film on television, and take the time to stop and watch the film – and hopefully fall in love – you might recognize its imperfections. There might be scratches, skips, and jumps between frames, all because its print hasn’t been properly cared for. If the original print no longer exists, we could be left with a damaged film, one that could never be properly restored.

I fear that if Armenian films aren’t already dead, they soon will be. If the negatives of these films are still out there, we need to act now.

The Trouble with Oscar

The Los Angeles Times ran an article a week before Oscar Sunday which claimed the majority of Oscar voters were "overwhelmingly white." In their survey, they claim Oscar voters are 94% white and 77% male. In addition, blacks make up only 2% of the group whereas Latinos are less than 2% of the group. This isn't exactly news, it's something we have all pretty much known, but these statistics officially show us something is a little wrong with the picture.

The members of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences have always been considered conservative, and while they have been showing a little more attention to independent and mainstream films (such as Inception), it's only done so to appeal to the younger demographic. In the end, the Oscars generally play their picks extremely safe. In this year's nominations, they went with typical "Academy" fare with Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, despite the fact that most critics dismissed the film. The film, which focuses on a family after 9/11 and explores a father and son relationship, was obviously memorable enough for those "old white" Oscar voters.

The Oscars, however, still managed to pull in 39.3 million viewers on Sunday. The world tunes into the Oscars because they consider this to be the biggest and most important film event of the year, despite the fact that the Oscars are the biggest and most important public relations event of the year. The problem with the Oscars, however, isn't that they continually pick an overall "safe" film. The Oscars don't like taking risks or going outside their comfort zone; in addition to their staggering statistics, Oscar voters were declared to have a median age of 62, with only 14% of the membership being younger than 50! So, it's no real wonder why actors like Michael Fassbender were grossly overlooked for their work last year. Michael Fassbender starred in Shame, a film in which he plays a man addicted to sex. The pitch of that film alone shows us why he was overlooked; Oscar voters are just too damn old and don't care. They rather play it safe and go with films that make them feel good. That's why films like Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close are still getting nominated.

The real problem with the Oscars, however, is how their voting process works. It's extremely complicated (probably so the "safest" film wins) but Oscar voters aren't required to watch all nominated films to vote for Best Picture. Now, it's pretty much impossible to keep tabs on 5,765 members, but it's also absurd to think that these voters don't need to watch these films before voting. These voters are all sent screeners of these films, but in a year where nine films were nominated for Best Picture, most of which ran over two hours in length, it's easy for voters to skip to films that have received the most acclaim. This, however, prevents them from seeing all the work that specific year and overlooking films they might otherwise vote for. I have a real world example for this. I worked for a man last year (who just so happens to be a white male over the age of 70) who told me he voted for The King's Speech last year. I wasn't bothered by the fact that he voted for that particular film, but was extremely troubled by the fact that he didn't even see many of the other contenders. In fact, last year The King's Speech faced stiff competition from The Social Network, so if you're not going to watch all the other films nominated, it might strike you to at least watch The Social Network, the one another film being praised by others. Instead, he decided to skip on The Social Network (it didn't seem like his type of film) and he voted for The King's Speech. The biggest problem I have with this is that he ended up watching The Social Network several months later and preferred it over The King's Speech.

So, how many times has this happened in the history of the Oscars? It's disturbing to know that a film can gain a lot of momentum because of nasty marketing campaigns and sway voters into voting for that particular film, while they skip over all the other nominees. In this real world case, I found out first hand the Oscars have a serious problem, and while it doesn't really matter who wins, it's still a little disturbing to know that a film will go down as Best Picture illegitimately.