Today I deliberately chose to attend a film that I had already watched for a review that New Times printed on March 1. I wanted to see Our Land, Our Life yet again, wanted to feel the outrage and sadness that it had inspired within me ripple through a larger audience. But before the longer documentary, there was an animated short (29 minutes) called The Naked Hitchiker. It was interesting, and decidedly unexpected. I can't honestly say that I liked it, but I definitely respect its decidedly unique voice. There was supposed to be a Q&A with filmmaker Eleanor Lanahan, but, for whatever reason, that didn't end up happening.
After the bizarre, animated spiral into a woman's insecurities and self-doubt, Our Land, Our Life was definitely a dose of reality. I'm really glad that I decided to watch it again, because the large screen breathed new life into the film. The plains that I had thought amazing in my living room became breath-taking on the larger screen. And that triggered an even stronger emotional response to the film, if that is possible. Part of me wanted the audience to watch the film, hop in their cars, and angrily riot their way to Nevada, determined to help Carrie Dann in her legal, not to mention moral, battles against the US government. If the people of SLO County watched one film during this festival, of all the beautiful, thoughtful films, I wanted it to be this one. What greater purpose could film possibly serve than to inspire social change and awareness?
Our Land, Our Life is the story of the Dann sisters, two elderly Western Shoshone women living on a ranch in Nevada, a ranch that has been passed down through countless generations of Shoshone ranchers. Until the US government decided to void a treaty it signed in 1863 agreeing that 60 million acres does, in fact, belong to the Shoshone. Watching the government spend millions of dollars to ruthlessly round up these women's livestock, fine them for trespassing, and generally do everything in its power to persecute them for a seemingly unknown reason is heartbreaking. We'd all like to think that we live in socially progressive times, that generations before us have fought for rights that we can now enjoy. It's painful to believe that anyone, much less the government that is supposed to be representing you, could be so callous. Of course, when the audience discovers that gold has been discovered on Shoshone lands, it all suddenly becomes clear. The land the sisters struggled for three decades to protect is pillaged and poisoned, all for some gold. With the film's soulful music and heart-wrenching plot, it was difficult not to cry, with sadness and frustration.
When the film ended and the audience was ushered to festival headquarters next door for a Q&A session with the Gages, who created the film, everyone had the same question: how can I help? Their response: Visit the Western Shoshone Defense Project's web-site (www.wsdp.org) and donate time and money to their cause. This is not an issue that people can afford to ignore. These people have endured centuries of abuse, discrimination, and dehumanization, and yet, in the film, they still laughed and joked. There's something worth preserving there.
Tomorrow I'm off to watch Iraq in Fragments (is anyone noticing that I'm a sucker for a political cause) and Rose at 4 p.m. From the moment the office received the press materials for Rose, I have been eager to watch the 34 minute film. Written and directed by Hoku Uchiyama, this fantasy/ drama is about an 11 year old boy who witnesses the murder of a 17 year old runaway friend. Every year he returns to the same place and witnesses the same murder. Yeah, it sounds a little creepy (which I'm not into) but the promotional photos are so beautiful that I'm willing to brave the horror.
Iraq in Fragments is a 94 minute film about-you guessed it-Iraq! This is a documentary about the country through the eyes of Sunnis, Shiites, and Kurds (yes, President Bush, there are different sects of Muslims). This film has been winning awards all over the place, received rave reviews from our editorial staff, and should hold some insight into a very politically charged topic that too few people really know anything about. Hopefully I'll see you there...or on the road to Crescent Valley...
