Ive already given the TSA too many posts since I'm a brit, so my complaints have no gravity, and I'm not planning on raising their ire anytime soon by visiting them, but they just keep on being complete gits.
For anyone interested, BoingBoing put together a quick list of recent known TSA cockups, (to go with this, this and even this youtube playlist) but wouldn't you know, it needed updating not long after with more hijinks.
Thats all I'm doing on this abomination. It's beyond a joke now.
Showing posts with label Human Rights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Human Rights. Show all posts
BIFF 2012 - Day 9
The Proposition (Australia/UK) (wiki)
Maybe intended as an accompaniment to the film to give us an appreciation of the cloying heat of the Australian Outback, the Cineworld theatre had the heating turned up high and was like a sauna for the first half of this film. Thankfully one of the work experience kids re-read the instruction book and turned a dial for us so we survived.
But the actors must have had it much tougher as they were shooting this film, dusty sweat stinging their eyes; and the people of the colonies who lived through that time even worse. Of course, the ones who had it worst, whose short lives were made truly wretched were the Aboriginal population of Australia - a branch of humanity slain by their thousands by the righteous British colonial settlers, spurred on by flag and faith in the 19th Century, 'civilising' every pocket of resistance in their path.
Capt. Morris Stanley (another part played well by Ray Winstone) is one such patriot doing his overseas duty, running sword and bullet through criminals on his patch. His drunken squad care little for justice, replacing it with vengeance whenever the actual perp can't be easily found. But one band constantly eludes him; the Burns brothers. When finally he captures two of them, young Mike and his protective brother Charles, only Arthur, the eldest and most dangerous remains. Striking a deal with Charles to track him and bring him back before Christmas, or Mike is hanged, Morris foolishly reckons he's solved the problem and can concentrate on more civilising.
Yet another Ray Winstone entry, The Proposition takes a little time to warm up but gives a horribly authentic-looking portrayal of wretched lives scraping a living with few comforts to hand, and the Aboriginals who are treated as either pests to exterminate or a resource to herd and exploit in the harsh beauty of the hell they live in. Both Stanley's gang and the Burns brothers are dark shades of grey rather than a defined good and bad side, and you will find yourself backing the fortunes of both at various times. It's a grisly, hard film to watch, with an uncharacteristically but perfectly reserved performance by Winstone and a view of a world that should not have taken place. 7.5/10
Departure (UK) - Two astronauts on a long-distance mission through space learn that the valve leak they just had has drained 80% of their water supply. Only enough left for one person to get home. At this point, you're probably thinking.. water rationing, urine filtration systems, or a hibernation state. But apparently the director didn't. 6/10
I am a Good Person/I am a Bad Person (Can) (wiki)
This is deeply strange. I am sat in Cubby Broccoli cinema, looking at the screen as the film plays. The scene shows a pan of the seating for the Cubby Broccoli cinema, and SOMEONE ELSE IS SITTING IN MY SEAT. Consider my mind blown, man.
Director Ingrid Veninger (who was present at the screening for a Q and A, and also the star of the film just to increase my confusion) plays Ruby White, a wife with 2 kids and a film-making career of sorts. She is about to tour some festivals to promote her latest film, 'Head Shots'. It's a film about a woman taking pictures of penises. Yes.
Along for the ride is her bookish daughter Sara and the two of them go to last years Bradford Film Festival, and after a terrible reception to the screening, Ruby drags her daughter along for some liquid soothing and the best music Bradford has on offer. Not long afterwards they agreeably part ways. The rest of the film follows their respective experiences; Sara meeting with her friends in Paris and enjoying herself, except for the whole boyfriend thing, and Ruby touring Berlin, suffering that thing many struggling filmmakers at a festival must do - going hoarse asking passers by to please see her film.
Unique for a Bradford audience perhaps, the first half of the film felt like a highlight, seeing places you'd just walked through and re-living last year's festival experience, only to flatline in the second half while both parties go off and do their own thing. Both stumble upon some realisation about their life in the process but it comes as an inevitability rather than revelation to the viewer. I suspect a non-Bradford festival goer may extract less enjoyment, rather than more.
It was quite enjoyable, but it just didn't wow me. But it gets an extra half point for the use of Foux du fafa. 6/10
So Much For So Little (US) - Back in 1942, US Healthcare was a right rather than a privilege, and if you showed this Oscar-winning public information film to the current US movie-going public, chances are half of them would scream abuse at the screen and accuse Chuck Jones of being a Communist. That says more about how the US has changed rather than the film, although purely as a warm-up act before a feature, it's not that entertaining. 7/10
Sing Your Song (Ger) (site)
Prior to this film my impression of Harry Belafonte was as a singer from the past who at the very mention of his name my mum would always go coy and say how much she loved him. Day-O is a competent enough song but little more than novelty pop (with an even more obscure version on an old tape from the 80's I have somewhere). I suspect that for those of my age and below who have even heard of the man, many will have a similar, indifferent opinion.
But this film opened my eyes to all that. A perfect accompaniment to Mama Africa from last year (shared footage of Miriam Makeba and Belafonte connect the two films), Sing Your Song allows Belafonte, now over 80 to chronicle his considerable life in full. Sometimes sounding a little proud of himself perhaps, but he has a right to be. From his birth in Harlem and upbringing in Jamaica where he picked up the simple workmen songs that he would come to be known for, through his early acting and singing career (which were both dogged by racial conflict, especially in the American south who issued a collective gasp at even a black man and white woman touching), past the civil rights movements and standing with Martin Luther King and John Kennedy, the 1963 March on Washington, Bloody Sunday in Alabama, Wounded Knee, USA for Africa and countless more. Belafonte has played a significant part in all these major milestones in American, African and global civil rights history, and he is still going strong despite at several times in his career being stung with that oft-used label by threatened right-wingers, a communist.
His voice is now raspier than before but the spirit and determination to confront injustice is still as strong. His current project concerns the youth of America, giving them a voice after being shocked at a report of a 5-year old girl trussed up with handcuffs for being 'rowdy'. America, and the world in general has very far to go before we reach a state where we can all be happy, but it's people like Harry Belafonte who get us there, and this brilliant documentary opened my eyes to that. 8.5/10
Maybe intended as an accompaniment to the film to give us an appreciation of the cloying heat of the Australian Outback, the Cineworld theatre had the heating turned up high and was like a sauna for the first half of this film. Thankfully one of the work experience kids re-read the instruction book and turned a dial for us so we survived.
But the actors must have had it much tougher as they were shooting this film, dusty sweat stinging their eyes; and the people of the colonies who lived through that time even worse. Of course, the ones who had it worst, whose short lives were made truly wretched were the Aboriginal population of Australia - a branch of humanity slain by their thousands by the righteous British colonial settlers, spurred on by flag and faith in the 19th Century, 'civilising' every pocket of resistance in their path.
Capt. Morris Stanley (another part played well by Ray Winstone) is one such patriot doing his overseas duty, running sword and bullet through criminals on his patch. His drunken squad care little for justice, replacing it with vengeance whenever the actual perp can't be easily found. But one band constantly eludes him; the Burns brothers. When finally he captures two of them, young Mike and his protective brother Charles, only Arthur, the eldest and most dangerous remains. Striking a deal with Charles to track him and bring him back before Christmas, or Mike is hanged, Morris foolishly reckons he's solved the problem and can concentrate on more civilising.
Yet another Ray Winstone entry, The Proposition takes a little time to warm up but gives a horribly authentic-looking portrayal of wretched lives scraping a living with few comforts to hand, and the Aboriginals who are treated as either pests to exterminate or a resource to herd and exploit in the harsh beauty of the hell they live in. Both Stanley's gang and the Burns brothers are dark shades of grey rather than a defined good and bad side, and you will find yourself backing the fortunes of both at various times. It's a grisly, hard film to watch, with an uncharacteristically but perfectly reserved performance by Winstone and a view of a world that should not have taken place. 7.5/10
Departure (UK) - Two astronauts on a long-distance mission through space learn that the valve leak they just had has drained 80% of their water supply. Only enough left for one person to get home. At this point, you're probably thinking.. water rationing, urine filtration systems, or a hibernation state. But apparently the director didn't. 6/10
I am a Good Person/I am a Bad Person (Can) (wiki)
This is deeply strange. I am sat in Cubby Broccoli cinema, looking at the screen as the film plays. The scene shows a pan of the seating for the Cubby Broccoli cinema, and SOMEONE ELSE IS SITTING IN MY SEAT. Consider my mind blown, man.
Director Ingrid Veninger (who was present at the screening for a Q and A, and also the star of the film just to increase my confusion) plays Ruby White, a wife with 2 kids and a film-making career of sorts. She is about to tour some festivals to promote her latest film, 'Head Shots'. It's a film about a woman taking pictures of penises. Yes.
Along for the ride is her bookish daughter Sara and the two of them go to last years Bradford Film Festival, and after a terrible reception to the screening, Ruby drags her daughter along for some liquid soothing and the best music Bradford has on offer. Not long afterwards they agreeably part ways. The rest of the film follows their respective experiences; Sara meeting with her friends in Paris and enjoying herself, except for the whole boyfriend thing, and Ruby touring Berlin, suffering that thing many struggling filmmakers at a festival must do - going hoarse asking passers by to please see her film.
Unique for a Bradford audience perhaps, the first half of the film felt like a highlight, seeing places you'd just walked through and re-living last year's festival experience, only to flatline in the second half while both parties go off and do their own thing. Both stumble upon some realisation about their life in the process but it comes as an inevitability rather than revelation to the viewer. I suspect a non-Bradford festival goer may extract less enjoyment, rather than more.
It was quite enjoyable, but it just didn't wow me. But it gets an extra half point for the use of Foux du fafa. 6/10
So Much For So Little (US) - Back in 1942, US Healthcare was a right rather than a privilege, and if you showed this Oscar-winning public information film to the current US movie-going public, chances are half of them would scream abuse at the screen and accuse Chuck Jones of being a Communist. That says more about how the US has changed rather than the film, although purely as a warm-up act before a feature, it's not that entertaining. 7/10
Sing Your Song (Ger) (site)
Prior to this film my impression of Harry Belafonte was as a singer from the past who at the very mention of his name my mum would always go coy and say how much she loved him. Day-O is a competent enough song but little more than novelty pop (with an even more obscure version on an old tape from the 80's I have somewhere). I suspect that for those of my age and below who have even heard of the man, many will have a similar, indifferent opinion.
But this film opened my eyes to all that. A perfect accompaniment to Mama Africa from last year (shared footage of Miriam Makeba and Belafonte connect the two films), Sing Your Song allows Belafonte, now over 80 to chronicle his considerable life in full. Sometimes sounding a little proud of himself perhaps, but he has a right to be. From his birth in Harlem and upbringing in Jamaica where he picked up the simple workmen songs that he would come to be known for, through his early acting and singing career (which were both dogged by racial conflict, especially in the American south who issued a collective gasp at even a black man and white woman touching), past the civil rights movements and standing with Martin Luther King and John Kennedy, the 1963 March on Washington, Bloody Sunday in Alabama, Wounded Knee, USA for Africa and countless more. Belafonte has played a significant part in all these major milestones in American, African and global civil rights history, and he is still going strong despite at several times in his career being stung with that oft-used label by threatened right-wingers, a communist.
His voice is now raspier than before but the spirit and determination to confront injustice is still as strong. His current project concerns the youth of America, giving them a voice after being shocked at a report of a 5-year old girl trussed up with handcuffs for being 'rowdy'. America, and the world in general has very far to go before we reach a state where we can all be happy, but it's people like Harry Belafonte who get us there, and this brilliant documentary opened my eyes to that. 8.5/10
Still A Bad Time To Be Black in America
My previous post on the American social and political state started out as a simple grumble about the starched suits on Fox in America and their ability to see bad in everything that isn't basically - well, them. It so quickly and easily turned into a review of why being in America at the moment is a really bad thing.
So when I received word of several racially-themed reasons to reinforce this conclusion, one after another, in my inbox, it felt wrong to ignore them.
The Trayvon Martin case was the then-latest incident to highlight some deep undercurrents that so easily rise to the surface in some districts. A teenager, wearing a hoodie on his way back from the shops to his house, carrying nothing more offensive than sweets and a drink, was apprehended by local neighbourhood self-styled superjusticedude George Zimmerman. He notified the police and - against their wishes - went after him, apprehended him and shot him dead as he screamed in terror.
The police refused to arrest him.
There's a possibility some deeply racist bastard might be thinking that good ol' patriotic Zimmerman, on seeing a young, hooded black kid, 'acting suspiciously', might be somewhat justified in some sort of preventative action. After all, this could have been a danger to the neighbourhood. He wasn't, but he could have been; and in Zimmermans' committed mental state by that point, he was going to be the hero of the community by getting to him before Trayvon got to his 'target'. He must have forgotten to do all the things that you would do before shooting him dead, is all.
So for those looking for justification in his actions, hoping that there is some sort of explanation that doesn't involve widespread racist hate in the force tasked with protecting people on the street: how about this situation, which came to light just a few days later: Kenneth Chamberlain Sr., an elderly and distinguished black man who fought for his country, is shot dead in his own house by police. What heinous crime did he do? He fell asleep at his home, and the medical alarm round his neck - there because he had a heart condition - was accidentally activated. The police came, and responded to the chain lock and his half-asleep assurance that it was a false alarm by tazering him, breaking the door down, shouting racist obscenities at him, apparently shooting him with a beanbag gun, and just for good measure to ensure justice was done, finally shot him dead in his own home with live ammo.
Punishment for the cop involved? Err, no. No punishment, no layoff, not even suspended or stuck on a desk job. His identity has not been released after six months, and he is apparently still at work in the same neighbourhood.
America, what the hell is going on with you? Has the last 50-plus years of civil rights advances gained such small ground that these things can happen now?
Of course, when your would-be president nearly uses the n-word to describe your current president (yes, I know there's a chance that's not the word he intended - but you give me a credible alternative after listening to it closely ten times), it's clear that for all the progress in equality and human rights America and the west in general has managed, we would be naive to think that we are a long way from where we need to be.
Edit: Extra bonus shooting of black people by cops: What do you expect from police in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans? Assistance, compassion? How about a group of them shooting people from a bridge and then trying to cover it up.
So when I received word of several racially-themed reasons to reinforce this conclusion, one after another, in my inbox, it felt wrong to ignore them.
The Trayvon Martin case was the then-latest incident to highlight some deep undercurrents that so easily rise to the surface in some districts. A teenager, wearing a hoodie on his way back from the shops to his house, carrying nothing more offensive than sweets and a drink, was apprehended by local neighbourhood self-styled superjusticedude George Zimmerman. He notified the police and - against their wishes - went after him, apprehended him and shot him dead as he screamed in terror.
The police refused to arrest him.
There's a possibility some deeply racist bastard might be thinking that good ol' patriotic Zimmerman, on seeing a young, hooded black kid, 'acting suspiciously', might be somewhat justified in some sort of preventative action. After all, this could have been a danger to the neighbourhood. He wasn't, but he could have been; and in Zimmermans' committed mental state by that point, he was going to be the hero of the community by getting to him before Trayvon got to his 'target'. He must have forgotten to do all the things that you would do before shooting him dead, is all.
So for those looking for justification in his actions, hoping that there is some sort of explanation that doesn't involve widespread racist hate in the force tasked with protecting people on the street: how about this situation, which came to light just a few days later: Kenneth Chamberlain Sr., an elderly and distinguished black man who fought for his country, is shot dead in his own house by police. What heinous crime did he do? He fell asleep at his home, and the medical alarm round his neck - there because he had a heart condition - was accidentally activated. The police came, and responded to the chain lock and his half-asleep assurance that it was a false alarm by tazering him, breaking the door down, shouting racist obscenities at him, apparently shooting him with a beanbag gun, and just for good measure to ensure justice was done, finally shot him dead in his own home with live ammo.
Punishment for the cop involved? Err, no. No punishment, no layoff, not even suspended or stuck on a desk job. His identity has not been released after six months, and he is apparently still at work in the same neighbourhood.
America, what the hell is going on with you? Has the last 50-plus years of civil rights advances gained such small ground that these things can happen now?
Of course, when your would-be president nearly uses the n-word to describe your current president (yes, I know there's a chance that's not the word he intended - but you give me a credible alternative after listening to it closely ten times), it's clear that for all the progress in equality and human rights America and the west in general has managed, we would be naive to think that we are a long way from where we need to be.
Edit: Extra bonus shooting of black people by cops: What do you expect from police in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans? Assistance, compassion? How about a group of them shooting people from a bridge and then trying to cover it up.
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