Tag: Kevin Macdonald

The Mauritanian

Posted on by Paul Risker

Human civilisation and time is scarred by our choices and indiscretions, some of which are so grave that we cast aside our very humanity. Kevin Macdonald’s American drama The Mauritanian, is the true story of one of these many scars that has been instigated by the “war on terror”, and the imprisonment without charge of Guantánamo Bay detainees by the U.S Government.

Based on the best-selling memoir Guantánamo Diary by Mohamedou Ould Slahi (Tahar Rahim), the film recounts his own fight for freedom, with the help of defence attorney Nancy Hollander (Jodie Foster) and her associate Teri Duncan (Shailene Woodley). Leading the prosecution is Lt. Colonel Stuart Couch (Benedict Cumberbatch), a formidable figure who uncovers shocking truths that brings him into conflict with the military and his own government.

A new film from Macdonald rightly stirs up interest, and his back catalogue of documentary and fiction makes the prospect of him tackling the subject of Guantánamo Bay an exciting one. Reflecting on the film, what immediately strikes me is an intriguing parallel with his documentary of mountaineers stranded in Touching the Void (2003). Slahi’s imprisonment, and his striking up a friendship with a fellow detainee he never sees face-to-face, juxtaposes man with nature as the respective antagonists.

Technically efficient, with solid performances, The Mauritanian is haunted by the underwhelming feeling it provokes. The suspense and urgency struggles to explode that sees it fall short of other captivating works of true stories, such as All the President’s Men (Pakula, 1976) and Spotlight (McCarthy, 2015). If it can be most aptly described as a sober account of Slahi’s experiences, this is ironically where the film’s strength lies.


The expectation is for Foster’s character to be a tour de force, the injustice and bullying tactics of the government adding fuel to her fire. Instead she’s a more tempered presence, as is Cumberbatch’s prosecutor, neither spiralling into a dramatised idealism. It’s a choice that leaves us feeling that a part of the film’s soul is missing. The sobering restraint ultimately comes to pay tribute to the source material, in a way that can perhaps be likened to photographers who combine image with text to communicate ideas and meaning.

Throughout feelings are provoked, a mix of anger and sympathy, and we question his innocence as the two sides prepare for trial. It’s not until the end that the full weight of our indignation is felt. Macdonald depicts events that are dramatic, intense and uncomfortable to view. We see acts of torture that are in breach of international law, perpetrated against detainees who have not been charged with any crime. There’s a definite full stop as the director builds to a crescendo of condemnation, articulately tempered with facts in white text on a black background. The film was borne out of words on a page, and so it ends with words onscreen.

According to Amnesty International, “The Guantanamo prison remains open today with 40 men still imprisoned there. The vast majority have never been charged with a crime.” The text references that Slahi’s struggle for freedom ran into the Obama/Biden Administration, and to this day, Obama’s promise to close the Guantanamo prison remains unfulfilled.

The Mauritanian is not a look back at a past heinous act, it’s a window into the horrors being experienced by detainees as we are watching, thinking and talking about the film. There are those for who what we witness is their reality, human beings denied their dignity that continues to besmirch a contemporary America supposedly built upon the values of freedom and equality, a nation struggling to discover its soul.

Neither the entertaining compelling or suspenseful experience that one may expect, what the film does is trust its story will resonate with the audience as an experience recounted. Slahi’s story as shown here, is an experience we should value and appreciate, for it makes us conscious of the hurt we inflict upon one another, and the consequences that make victims out of men, women and children.

The Mauritanian is streaming on Amazon Prime

Whitney

Posted on by victorfraga

This is not an esoteric documentary exclusively for die-hard fans. This is a deeply moving film about one of the most commercially successfully musicians of the 20 century, whose personal life was the antithesis of prosperity and contentment. And the film isn’t timid; it goes into the most controversial and least glamorous facets of the pop star. Whitney Houston exuded talent and charisma, but her relationship to her family and the battle against cocaine prevented her from thoroughly enjoying her relatively short life.

During her 48 years of existence, Whitney (or “Nippy”, as her family and closest friends would call her) was constantly in search of something. She sought acceptance as a black artist, stability through marriage and also professional recognition, but she partly failed in all of these aspects. Her premature death to cocaine six years ago saddened the world, but it did not surprise many people. Her erratic lifestyle combined with the disappointments and deceptions experienced throughout finally made her pay the ultimate price.

Whitney was accused of going too mainstream and leaving her black roots behind, which prevented her from being recognised as the black artist she envisaged. She was booed, and the press nicknamed her Whitney “Whitey” Houston. Even as a child, she was bullied for being “too white”. This reminded me a lot of Carmen Miranda in the 1940s, who was accused of becoming “too americanised” and leaving her South American roots behind. The Brazilian Bombshell also became addicted to cocaine, had a stormy and abusive love life, and a premature death at the very similar age of just 46.

Secondly, she never achieved stability through marriage. Her relationship with Bobby Brown was extremely stormy, and he was routinely abusive and even violent towards her. He’s interviewed for the film, but refuses to talk about drugs and the dark side of their marriage. The interviewer tries to elicit as much information as possible from behind the camera, in a very persuasive and provocative talking heads interview type of approach. Bobby refuses to cooperate, coming across as selfish and conveniently in denial of his negative impact on Whitney’s life.

Whitney’s sexuality is also a central topic. She was abused by her talented singer cousin Dee Dee Warwick (Dionne Warwick’s sister), in the unusual scenario where the sexual predator is a female. The film suggests that Whitney was in a relationship with her openly lesbian assistant Robyn Crawford. This homossexual relationship is euphemistically described as a “safety net”, while Whitney’s bisexuality is “fluid”. Robyn was probably one of the most stable and reliable people in Whitney’s life. Sadly, she shunned the female in favour of the dysfunctional, abusive, jealous and envious Bobby Brown.

In addition to her marriage and her “blackness”, the doc reveals that Whitney failed in other aspects of her life. She tried to be a good mother to her daughter Bobbi Kristina by taking her on tour, but instead the girl became a broken woman who would eventually take her own life. Her father was exploitative, and Whitney did not attend his funeral. She tried to convey the image of the strong and stable performer, but instead she became the poster girl for drub misuse and failed marriage. The film ends with the camera travelling down the corridors of the Beverly Hilton Hotel all the way to the bath tub where Whitney passed away. A very harrowing journey.

But the film isn’t all doom and gloom. A register of her impressive achievements is also conspicuous. This includes the recording of I Will Always Love You for the The Bodyguard (Mick Jackson, 1992), which “shot her into the stratosphere”. She also served as an invaluable symbol of reconciliation between black Americans and white Americans when she sang The Star Spangled Banner (the American anthem is often associated with oppression and racism) ar the Superbowl. She was also the first foreign artist to sing in post-Apartheid South Africa. These are no mean feats.

Whitney runs in cinemas across the UK from Friday, July 5th. It’s out on VoD in November. It might feel a little redundant for those who watched Nick Broomfield and Rudi Dolezal’s documentary Whitney: Can I Be Me just last year. Otherwise, it’s a sobering and humanistic portrayal of the late singer.