Commentary | James Hyatt

Uranium-235: Part 1

August 1, 2016 / jameshyatt / No Comments

My dad died in 1992.

He’d been ill for a while, but his death and its aftermath have remained as the most emotionally vivid, significant, and shattering experience of my life.

This is after more than two decades, after living through 9/11 in New York City, after surviving Hurricane Fran, after saying goodbye to more family members and friends than I want to think about.

I defined myself through him. I know that’s true for most young men. But from an early age (surprisingly early) I defined myself as the opposite of how I saw him. He was straightlaced, sober (never smoked or drank), law and order (literally a federal agent), and truly, deeply religious.

Of course I because the rebel, bending and breaking the law, living on the edge (the “edge”), and authentically not believing. Or not experiencing belief as he did.

This lasted through college of course, and began to change once I began working as a journalist — specifically, an investigative reporter for a well-regarded regional newspaper.

Dad read my work, and had to consider there was more to me than the pain-in-the-ass underachiever (in his eyes — after all, who needs an English/journalism degree when there are real jobs out there?) who always wanted the last word.

I kept up my habit of calling home every week. We’d talk about the issues I was writing about; the politics, the crime, the sad human stories. These were things he also dealt with in his job, before he was forced into too-early retirement (federal agents who carry firearms usually have to retire at 55).

We found common ground. We began to see each other as men, on our own, and with similar beliefs and causes. We began to really talk to each other.

Then he was gone.

He’d been diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (CLL) a decade before that. But here’s the thing about CLL — unless you test positive for a specific marker (known as ZAP-70), it’s supposed to be chronic, treatable, survivable.

Dad didn’t indicate for ZAP-70. His CLL was treatable at the beginning. At the end, though, his leukemia mutated (a few times) and his doctors were left essentially powerless, treating symptoms and offering palliative care. When the end came, it was incredibly fast; really, a matter of hours — a stark contrast to the years he’d spend living a chronic life.

So what happened?

War. Service. History. Radiation. Time.

Setting the Stage: The Atomic Age

The first atomic bomb used in warfare — Little Boy, detonated over Hiroshima, Japan on August 6th, 1945 — was an enriched-uranium bomb developed through the Manhattan Project.

The very first man-made nuclear detonation in history, the Trinity test conducted just three weeks earlier in New Mexico, used an implosion-design plutonium device (named “The Gadget”), which was also used in the Fat Man bomb detonated over Nagasaki on August 6th.

It’s stunning to realize we as a species went from no nuclear detonations in our history to three in less than a month. (I’m not going to debate it: Little Boy and Fat Man helped conclude a war with Japan that could have gone on far longer with an even more staggering death toll.)

Back to enriched uranium. Natural uranium (fully organic!) is radioactive but isn’t usable as fissable nuclear fuel. Natural uranium primarily consists of Uranium-238 (about 99.28% by weight) and just a tiny bit of Uranium-235 (about 0.71%).

U-235 is also known as enriched uranium, and it was the material used in Little Boy.

Enriched uranium is rare in nature. (Plutonium is even rarer, practically but not quit non-existent, but that’s a different article.) Highly enriched uranium (also known as weapons-grade) is a concentration of 20% or higher U-235, and is DEFINITELY not found in nature.

Enriching U-238 to weapons-grade U-235 at industrial scale — what’s needed to produce atomic weapons — was nasty work that began in the middle of World War II.

Most of that work was done in a place called Oak Ridge National Laboratory, in Tennessee.

Oak Ridge the town was known as the Secret City, because it was built as a production site for the Manhattan Project, and by presidential proclamation was declared a military district not subject to state control.

The population grew from 3,000 in 1942 to about 75,000 in 1945.

A uranium-diffusion facility named “K-25” was built during this time, and it covered 44 acres. That’s right: 44 acres. It was the largest building in the world at the time, and was constructed in near-total secrecy, at a cost equal to about $10 billion in today’s dollars.

My father arrived in Oak Ridge in 1944.

My Heart on My Sleeve and a Drink in My Hand: Why The Replacements Matter So Much

July 3, 2016 / jameshyatt / No Comments

Summer always reminds me of the Replacements. Wow, talk about your non sequitur lead!

I first heard them during summer break and it’s stayed with me. For the record, here’s their official site. Good luck what that. Being the ‘Mats, though, try Facebook. But probably here.

Who cares? Here’s why: They’re the greatest rock and roll band of the past 30 years.

Did I say best? No. Maybe that’s R.E.M.

Did I say most artistic? Nope. Radiohead.

How about most influential? The Clash.

Most literate? Try some Elvis Costello.

Hardest-rocking Minnesota band? Tell it to Husker Du.

I say “greatest” because what they achieved is multi-dimensional, still accessible, and still hugely influential.

Remember the debate about the Beatles versus the Stones? The general conclusion is the Beatles were the best, the Stones were the greatest.

Not many fledgling musicians sit down thinking, “The Beatles are awesome! I’m just gonna sit down and nail that guitar part from ‘The End.'”

But with The Replacements — like the Stones — their tunes seem gettable. You can play their songs -close enough- right now. In your garage or basement or bedroom.

Nothing too fancy, and it’s a fun kick in the ass.

Musicianship aside, what The Replacements had was attitude: They assumed everybody hated them.

The Stones might have believed they were indeed bad boys. Maybe they were in England, in a particular time and place and social strata. Now they’re landed gentry, but I digress.

The Replacements, however, were full-on fuckups. They knew this. They knew YOU knew this. And they owned it. They never were the starting quarterbacks. Or the popular guys in the parking lot, radios blaring. Of the funny ones, or the best dressed, or anybody’s best friend. They were the losers long before Beck.

In high school, you knew for a fact they would be working at the grocery store down the street in five years.

But early on they record a truly aware song like “Color Me Impressed.”

And then they write a heartbreaker like “Answering Machine.”

See, they became geniuses when they played. You saw what the potential for rock in the 1980s was. Until, of course, they screwed it up by being too hammered, or too angry, or just too damned stubbord to put on a good show. And then you kind of hated them.

But here’ the other thing. The one thing you still can’t look past or chalk up to nostalgia: Paul Westerberg is an amazing songwriter. Maybe the best we’ve seen since Lennon/McCartney. Here’s where I drop in “Unsatisfied.”

I love The Beatles, but some of their songs are distanced and removed (“Eleanore Rigby” anyone?) that in the wrong mood they make me want to chew on a gun barrel. Same with Elvis Costello — huge fan, but damn, “Shipbuilding” and similar.

Westerberg, though, always owned the emotions. He brought them front and center. These were his thoughts, his emotions, his confessions, his celebrations. And you cold take it or leave it, but it was always authentic. Oh look. “Valentine“!

Hell, what does that mean though? Here goes.

Life in Replacements World isnever going to end well. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get excited because it’s Friday night and you’re going to see your favorite band. You hope your major crush will be there. Maybe your crush smiles at you. And maybe, if you’re lucky, when you’re outside taking a smoke break, your crush comes over and asks for a light. And then, and then, and then maybe you say one cool thing. Something you’ve kind of thought about, but not rehearsed. Something that’s maybe funny but also a little edgy. Something that’s exactly right.

And maybe your crush smiles. And after the cigarette, takes your hand and you both go inside.

That’s the Replacements.

What’s also the Replacements is the next morning. When your crush is getting ready to leave. And waiting for you to say something. The next cool thing that will bring them back.

But you say something stupid. Maybe even accidentally insulting. And they storm off.

That’s also the Replacements.

Random Replacements facts:

Their first gig was at a church hall. They were immediately banned because of drunken rowdiness.
Tommy Stinson dropped out of tenth grade to join the band on tour.
They almost weren’t let into their first gig at CBGB’s because of Tommy’s age. Bob Stinson was immediately tossed out by management.
The ‘Mats beat out friends Husker Du for a Twin/Tone label contract. Husker Du then grabbed an opening slot with Johnny Thunder that the Replacements wanted.
Paul Westerberg said the rest of the band was his toughest audience: “If it doesn’t rock enough, Bob will scoff at it, and if it isn’t catchy enough, Chris won’t like it, and if it isn’t modern enough, Tommy won’t like it.”

Numbers, Sloppy Numbers, and Statistics

July 11, 2013 / jameshyatt / No Comments

I admit it — I get unreasonably cranky when I see sloppy, lazy or just plain bad business/financial reporting.

It goes back to my roots as a business journalist. I spent a lot of time making sure any estimates, figures, numbers or statistics I referenced were a) correct; and b) explained in as much detail as possible for general audiences.

While general-audience business journalism has historically been full of errors, false comparisons and mistakes (usually because these reporters come from J-school, not B-school), it seems to be getting worse. Yes, I’m sure news-org consolidation and downsizing has something to do with it.

But I was hit with two typical errors recently, and I have to vent.

Error 1: Not All Dollars Are Created Equal

I’m living in California’s Central Coast area now. And not to out any local media groups, but there was recent reporting on a reservoir’s water supply. So far, so good. Water’s always in the news here.

The local reporter took it a step further though, and said this particular project was built in 1957 for $5 million — what a deal that was! …And they left it at that.

Okay, if you’d going to reference past dollar figures, BRING THEM TO CURRENT VALUE! Annual inflation is a real thing, so give your audience an apples-to-apples comparison.

It’s easy. Heck, the US Bureau of Labor Statistics has an online inflation calculator.

Spending about 6 seconds there shows us $5 million in 1957 is equivalent to about $41.5 million today. Still probably a deal for a water reservoir, but now at least there’s a valid basis for comparison.

Error 2: Statistics are Slippery Things

For this next example, I’ll name names because they’re national and they should be able to take criticism. It’s NPR.

First, they were covering a sad, even tragic, topic: suicide. The reporting focused on Japan’s suicide culture, and how suicide is often seen an an honorable way out of dishonorable actions or circumstances.

Realize that I have great empathy for the issue of suicide. I don’t want to be perceived as being insensitive.

However, the reporter led with the statement: “Japan’s suicide rate is twice that of the United States. More than 30,000 people a year kill themselves in Japan.”

If I’m a casual listener, I might have missed the fact they just compared an apple to an orange. Someone could infer the US has about 15,000 suicides annually, since that’s half the Japanese number just mentioned (or another way: 30,000 is twice as large as 15,000).

But the RATE is different from the total NUMBER — especially in a country as large as the US (about 316 million people), versus Japan (about 128 million people).

This type of reporting opens the door for that same casual listener to conclude (incorrectly) if the US is only looking at about 15,000 to 16,000 suicides a year, the problem isn’t so bad.

The real numbers are far more disturbing for Americans. Yes, Japan tragically recorded about 30,000 suicide deaths annually… but the US reported 38,364 such deaths in 2010.

And there’s evidence the US rate is actually far higher, but under-reported by local authorities for a wide variety of reasons, including family concerns.

To close the loop, the rate is measured per 100,000 people — and according to World Health Organization estimates, Japan is actually not quite double the US suicide rate (21.7 suicides per 100,000 people versus 12 suicides per 100,000… and climbing for the US).

Even more depressingly, Greenland, South Korea and Lithuania have truly horrifying rates (but that’s a separate story).

Again, it’s a sad topic, but this also means there’s even more reason to make sure your figures and statistics are carefully vetted and put into proper context.

In doing the basic research for these numbers, there’s still validity to the story about Japan’s cultural view of this type of death, and the fledgling movement to change attitudes.

But another, larger story about America’s rarely discussed suicide culture is still waiting for a national stage, a national dialogue, a national discussion.

That’s just one reason why facts, figures and statistics are incredibly important to get right.

Brad Pitt Ain’t a Zombie-Killer

June 27, 2013 / jameshyatt / No Comments

Technically, he’s killing a virus that spreads itself through human hosts.

“But wait,” i hear you ask, “those zombies in 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later, they went through the same thing. Why aren’t you picking on them?”

Well, they did, and I am, and those weren’t really zombies either.

Call me a traditionalist, but true zombies get infected and/or are dead already, reanimate, and SLOWLY make their way toward your still-beating heart (and brain).

That’s the difference. You might think it’s splitting hairs, but ask yourself: is there such a thing as bad jazz? Or could what you’re listening to be classified as uptempo contemporary adult?

Listen, anything or things moving that fast may as well be robots or sharks or bears or aliens or coordinated groups of mass murderers: it ain’t the same as the slow, plodding actualization of your worst fears about death and mortality, come to remind you that humans can have a REALLY hard time getting along even in the best of times.

But I’ve made a whole presentation about this, years ago, and I stand by George Romero’s viewpoint:

July 13, 2010, Inside the Artist’s Studio Interivew with Molly Matlock.

However, I give massive props to Mr. Pitt and his whole production team for getting a movie like “World War Z” made in the first place, and getting it released as a PG-13 feature.

There are some interesting themes raised in the film, and it’s visually stunning, and parts of it quite intelligent. And I generally like Brad anyway.

But he ain’t fighing real zombies, is all I’m saying.

Enough with the zombies!

July 29, 2012 / jameshyatt / No Comments

No, no, I have nothing at all against The Zombies. Those guys were great!

I’m done with our culture’s continued and ongoing obsession with zombies in general. And that’s hard for me to admit, because I was identified as an expert on zombies in film, even to the point of leading a discussion about the raging slow- versus fast-zombie debate.

(In short, fast zombies are essentially the same as homicidal maniacs [looking at you, Danny Boyle and your 28 Days Later/28 Weeks Later] so who cares? Slow zombies are cooler because they’re a metaphor for the end that’s heading our way regardless. And they’re the catalyst of our own stupidity, self-centeredness and fear of life. But that’s just me yakkin’… )

Back to the main point: Zombies are everywhere now, and I don’t think that’s a good thing. In fact, it’s alarming. Is this a symptom of an underlying dread we have as a society? Do we collectively imagine, or even worse, believe, some big slate-wiper event is heading towards us, one shuffling footstep at a time?

Don’t get me wrong: zombies can be great. I loved “Sean of the Dead,” “Zombieland,” and even the FAR earlier “Return of the Living Dead”. The first time I saw the original “Night of the Living Dead,” it was shown using an old 16mm projector in the back room of our town’s public library. The experience was like watching a found-footage documentary, and as I was walking to my car – the parking lot lights went out. Yes, I nearly browned myself. But I told everybody what a great movie it was. And I’ve even watched the remakes of George Romero’s works, to mixed results.

I can also appreciate zombies as both political statements and as social events. Bring the whole family!

But damn, this death-cult worship is getting old. I know a lot of us are afraid: war, terrorism, mass shootings, disease, economic disaster, famine, rising sea levels, December 21, 2012 (and anyone want to make a bet with me on that, BTW?), Armageddon, the national elections… all the old classics.

So what? Get over it, and go DO something. do something to make your life, your family, your community a little safer. Maybe even a little happier.

I was in New York City during 9/11. It was terrible. But it wasn’t the end. Not by a long shot. why are we now worshiping The End?

And of course, we always like our monsters. It helps us project our real fears and anxieties onto something outward. Something fantastic, from the dream world. Fables brought to vivid focus. But this just feels like too much.

Is it possible to have a more life-affirming Other come to knock on the door in the middle of the night? Hey, The Joker was a relentless sociopath, but at least he smiled and liked practical jokes.

Heck, even vampires resurrect and mix it up with us. Too bad the “Twilight” series reduced them to teen-dating anxiety…

Before Katniss; Other Teen Dystopia

April 3, 2012 / jameshyatt / No Comments

Yes, The Hunger Games is a box-office phenomenon, and good for them!

The film’s creative team did a good job translating the book to screen (and yes, I know there are some detractors out there, but screw ’em. A film is it’s own separate work of art and has its own needs and requirements). The producers also did a fantastic job keeping the budget down and production values high. Who can’t appreciate a film that can succeed artistically and financially, right?

But this isn’t the first teen-dystopia film. Not by a long shot. A really quick, top-of-my-head review would include Lindsay Anderson’s “If…“ with an incredibly young Malcolm McDowell; Michael Anderson’s “Logan’s Run“ with Michael York; and Stanley Kubrick’s “A Clockwork Orange“, with a not-as-young Malcolm McDowell. I could go on and mention Peter Brooks’ “Lord of the Flies“, and even “Children of the Corn,” but we’re getting younger and younger with these films. (And, with that last mention, crappier and crappier.)

The film I’m REALLY here to talk about is arguably the best teen-dystopia film ever made. You’ve probably never seen it, possibly never heard of it, and that’s a crying shame. It’s a disturbing, exciting and even hilarious work of genius by one of Japan’s premier directors, and he regarded it as his warning cry to younger generations.

That film is “Battle Royale” by Kinji Fukasaku. It came out in 2000, never got a real US release, but it will knock you on your ass. It’s been release on Blu-Ray recently, although you can also find regular DVD versions. The story takes place in a near-future totalitarian Japan that keeps its population in line and entertained by a yearly battle to the death of an entire randomly-selected school class. The set up takes place in just minutes, and the students literally have to come out of the room fighting. Beyond that, it’s a gigantic bloody game of hide-and-seek among the adolescent characters.

I first saw the film on DVD, with my nephew. We had no idea what to expect, and our jaws dropped in awe, terror and admiration as the movie played out. At the end, he turned to me and said, “That was the best movie EVER!”, so we promptly turned around and screened it again. It’s that damn good.

Even though the film won several awards and was the buzz on the festival circuit, word was an American release wasn’t possible so soon after the 1999 Columbine massacre. It looks like an American version is in development, but that’s been a rumor with different production houses for years now.

Do yourself a favor and check out the original, on Blu-ray or regular DVD. Keep in mind this film ISN’T for young children, and it’s in Japanese with subtitles. Oh, and under no circumstances should you check out the sequel. The director died while production was under way, and the film was completed by his son. It’s not good; really not good at all. Trust me on this.

All that said, I can’t recommend “Battle Royale” highly enough. Here’s the trailer:

Just a quick “Drive”…

October 18, 2011 / jameshyatt / No Comments

I know, I know. It’s been a long time between posts.

My excuse is I moved all the way across the continent to start a film production company with my amazing partner, Devon Moore.

Wesley Wolfe: “Only Ray of Sunshine”

March 31, 2011 / jameshyatt / No Comments

First the clip, then the story (but for this one, I recommend clicking on the “Vimeo” link in the bottom right, so you can see this video in its full glory. There are a lot of moving parts…):

The song is “Only Ray of Sunshine”, from Wesley Wolfe’s Storage album (Odessa Records, 2010).

Wes is a really nice guy — soft-spoken, polite, and hard working.

Why, exactly, would his video have a lot of bad cops doing a lot of bad things as one poor couple sat there bound (and the female, hooded)?

Because we talked him into it. Half-kidding — it started from a germ of an idea about this sweet little love song and how to shake up the visuals. Showing a couple in the park holding hands wasn’t going to cut it. The project needed the Creato Destructo Imagery edge.

“It started out as a concept about a guy tied up in a trunk being dropped off mysteriously in front of a woman already tied up — basically the action at the core of the produced video,” said director Jerry Stifelman. “Then we had a creative session with Wes, who came up with the idea of making everyone cops, based on the lyric, ‘We are all criminals disguised as cops.’ Then we all came up with having all the cops being as uncoplike as possible… I love working with an artist to bring the video even closer to the essence of the song.”

As producer, it was a great moment when we really connected with the talent on the concept. Truly, this was an idea that hasn’t been done many times over in a music video.

But also as producer, I began tugging at what hair I have left — there were so many questions:
– Where are we going to find all these people?
– How are we going to find (and pay for) the cop uniforms and accessories (badges, caps, etc.) for all these people?
– WHERE can we pull this off?
– We’re in a small town. This really has to be done in public to visually “sell” the concept. What will our REAL cops think?

The good news is Wesley is well liked, so we were able to draft a lot of his friends, fans and family. And the good folks at Odessa Records also joined in. Then, we worked our own lists of good-humored friends, and supporters of Creato Destructo, and got enough bodies to approach a visual critical mass the video scenarion needed.

In terms of the uniforms, accessories, and other things that were needed — hire us and we’ll tell you all about it. (But one thing that worked in our favor was Halloween.)

We also benefitted from the great talent at Playmakers Repertory Company and the affiliated UNC Department of Dramatic Art. Not only were we able to “seed” trained actors into the bad-cop group — we also found standout talent Kelsey Didion, who earned my undying loyalty to her acting skills by sitting there, for hours, bound and hooded on a cold and windy day. (Kelsey, I hope someday to see you win an Oscar…)

And for location, well… we’ll have to protect the names of innocent property owners.

But enough from me. What does Wesley Wolfe think about the video?

“Jerry, James and Tracy are the kind of people I love to work with. People that have the need to create, and find any way possible to do so,” Wolfe said. “They let no obstacle — especially the all-mighty one, budget, stop them. Through ingenuity and resourcefulness they have found away to put on bigtime productions with little budget…

“I feel fortunate to be a part of their collection of work. I have only heard great thing from people that have seen it. My closest friends we’re blown away by the video. The production value speaks for itself.”

So far, so good. How did he feel about the process of taking his song (a highly personal thing), and handing it over to others, to translate it into a video that wasn’t necessarily… his?

“Another thing I admire is how open and flexible Jerry was to ideas and changes in post production. He truly treated this project as a collaboration. I have no doubts that my ideas and thoughts were taken into consideration, and not just tossed to the side. Something rare in any art project, especially when all I had to do was just show up for the shoot,” Wolfe said.

Aren’t those some production values? Damn right! Even though I personally was still anxious on shoot day — because we had so many extras to manage — it was an amazing experience to watch as each person put on a uniform shirt, pinned on a badge, and donned headgear. They became bad cops right in front of our eyes, and it went from concept to stunning reality in just a few minutes.

The experience is well described by our own Tracey Oliveto:

“This shoot was really fun because once everyone was dressed and given their marks, it was like a big outdoor party. I couldn’t stop smiling at the image of 30 or more people dressed in uniforms, doing their thing in the sunshine and it definitely makes you stop and think about the roles we all play in life,” stated Oliveto, Creato Destructo’s associate creative director. “It was quite a spectacle and drew curious attention from passersby. Of course, James gave our Carrboro (police department), a heads up – after all, it could have looked like some kind of conspiracy.”

Tto be honest, we had a few uneasy weeks as the local police tried to figure out if we were making fun of them, or cops in general, or if it was some kind of weird art project. This being Carrboro/Chapel Hill, it appears they settled on “weird art project” and decided not to pursue the matter any further…

All that said, the last words belong to Wolfe:

“I was nervous at first about being on camera. I really don’t like posing for pictures or seeing video of myself. They talked me into it, I trusted them fully, and I don’t regret it one bit… All in all, a great experience.”

We’ll be happy to do it again, Wes!

Wesley Wolfe (left) photographs the anarchic chaos.

Southern Story Standoff

March 1, 2011 / jameshyatt / 1 Comment

I’m standing in my favorite coffeehouse in the world (Open Eye, Carrboro NC), innocently waiting for my drink. Minding my own business.

In walks a friend, someone I hadn’t seen in weeks, possibly months.

There’s something different about him. Oh, that would be the sterile pad covering the lower part of his throat.

Almost as if it were covering… a tracheotomy scar?

“What’s up?” I say. And did I mention my buddy was a little wild-eyed?

“Not much,” my friend rasps.

Dammit. He HAS had a tracheotomy.

“How things by you?” he asks.

Oh my God. He’s not only held back his story, he’s just checked me (think chess).

I have to respond. And ss a storyteller myself, i know I have two options, neither of them great:

1. I can blow him off as politely as possible, and try to get the condensed version of whatever has happened either from other friends, or from the man himself when I have more time or he has less time.

2. I can open myself up for the narrative, right there. And this is tricky, because there’s a code of conduct involved. Once I open myself up, I have to let him tell the story in full, as he sees fit.

It could be five minutes, or it could be an hour and five minutes. It could be as straightforward as Hemingway or as ornate as Faulkner. It could be as clean as… well, no Southern writer I know of, but it could be clean. Or it could be as profanity-filled as a Navy riot, possibly describing things I didn’t know were physically possible or even part of the human imagination.

You just never know with these things. You also never know if it’ll be worth the effort, or if it’ll be something you immediately want to scrub out of your mind.

But that’s the chance you take.

Once you start, you can’t stop the story. It’s worse than hitting someone’s Mom. They can hit back. But once you cut a story short, you’ve essentially killed it, and wounded the storyteller.

And there will be payback.

So… what to do?

“It’s just been a lot of hurry up and wait. You know,” I reply.

The coward’s way.

“Boy do I,” his rasp now even more pronounced.

Is he doing that on purpose? Can he modulate with that scar? How long do they stay open? I could ask, but…

“I gotta run,” I say, coffee now firmly in hand. “But call me, let’s catch up.”

He gives me the look. The look that says, ‘Next time, I own you.’

“Yeah, my brother, we’ll catch up,” he wheezes.

I turn and shuffle out the door, in shame.

I’ve let a good storyteller down, and I’ve left a possible great story hanging out there. But next time. Next time.

Maybe even with a drink or two. I wonder. What happens if you slam a beer with a reasonably fresh tracheotomy scar?

So many questions…

And because it might save a life, here’s this clip:

Sundance 2011: Documentary Roundup

February 4, 2011 / jameshyatt / No Comments

First, a clip, then some comments:

The above is a backgrounder for the “Hot Coffee” documentary, more on it later.

And yes, I’m behind in terms of Sundance 2011 updates and coverage. I was surprised by some Internet access issues, but I also should have taken into account the weird day-to-day schedules that are the Sundance Film Festival.

At least I didn’t have to deal with intimate strangers in my condo, as did this journalist.

(Most of) The Winners

Documentaries are the hidden gem of the Sundance Film Festival. Sure, you get the occasional breakout hit such as “Supersize Me” or “Bowling for Columbine” — but there are a lot of other great documentaries that essentially go on to possible but unlikely theatrical distribution ; with most relegated to PBS, cable or online.

That’s a shame. The documentary programs (U.S. and World Cinema) essentially match the structure of Sundance’s feature film organization: films in competition, films that are premiers but not in competition, then other slots for those that are hard to peg or need some additional support (such as Spotlight, NEXT, Park City at Midnight, depending on the year and selections).

And it’s a shame these docs don’t get their fair share of attention. They’re generally of a far higher quality than the features, and they don’t suffer from the same tension of art-vs-commerce in terms of featuring celebrity/name actors versus just great acting talent that the fictional pieces have to balance.

Yak yak yak. Here’s a short list of docs that won awards at the 2011 festival, so they’ll likely be distributed in some form, this year:

How To Die in Oregon, directed by Peter D. Richardson. This won the Grand Jury Prize. It’s a study of how that state’s assisted-suicide rules affect the lives of terminally ill patients, their families, and the physicians involved. Gripping, ultimately affirming.

Hell and Back Again, directed by Danfung Dennis. This is a joint U.S./United Kingdom production, and won both the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize and World Cinema Cinematography Award. To the point, though, it’s about the journey of North Carolina soldier Sgt. Nathan Harris, shot by the Taliban in Afghanistan. His recovery has been long and grueling, and supposedly reveals the cost we’re paying in lives lost and lives damaged in this ongoing conflict.

Buck, directed by Cindy Meehl. This won the Documentary Audience Award, and profiles the trainer that inspired “The Horse Whisperer,” Buck Brannaman.

Project Nim, directed by James Marsh. This won the World Cinema Directing Award, and is from the same team that brought us “Man on Wire”!! Nim is a chimpanzee that, beginning in the 1970s, was taught sign language in an attempt to see if we could have true cross-species communications. Things… evolve from there.

Documentaries that need some championing

(As in, they may be harder to find after Sundance).

The Green Wave, directed by Ali Samadi Ahadi. The first major documentary about the short-lived, violently-crushed democracy movement in Iran, 2009, following what likely was an election stolen from Mir Hossein Mousavi.

The iranian director combines live action and animation to tell this heartbreaking story, while also offering up hopeful possibilities for the future.

The Last Mountain, directed by Bill Haney. It’s about the practice of mountaintop coal removal, specifically in West Virginia. But If this doc is even halfway competently done, it should ring alarm bells nationwide in terms of the short- and long-term damage this practice does to the environment, the community and the local and regional economies.

Hot Coffee, directed by Susan Saladoff. It’s about the McDonald’s hot-coffee lawsuit, but DON’T roll your eyes. It tells the story after the story you think you know. McDonald’s and other large corporations have used this case as an example of how tort law needs to be reformed — but it’s a slick spin job on their part. Hearing how average citizens have tried to get their cases to trail could make this a crowd-pleaser.

Probably coming to your town or television…

Documentaries that, while still good, probably have a great shot at widespread distribution —

Miss Representation, directed by Jennifer Siebel Newsom. This focuses on how women are portrayed in the media, and in our culture at large. It features interviews with Katie Couric, Condoleeza Rice, Nancy Pelosi, Gloria Steinem and Rachel Maddow, to name just a few. Trust me, you’ll get a chance to see this one.

Page One: A Year Inside ‘The New York Times’, directed by Andrew Rossi. A fascinating account of how arguably the world’s best newspaper is dealing with the change from print to online — but not just in terms of delivery modes, ad charges, and balance sheets. What happens if The Paper of Record loses the economic and cultural battle, and we lose one of the great investigative reporting resources the nation has ever known. Is a replacement model even possibly in this day and age? Are essentially unedited/lightly curated online resources such as Wikileaks even near what the NYT brings to the table?

One way or the other, this will get some form of distribution.

Troubadors, directed by Morgan Neville. The story centers on James Taylor and Carole King to discuss the larger story of 1970s Los Angeles-based singer/songwriters. Could be just great, likely will get distribution, but other docs deserve more championing.

Setting the Stage: The Atomic Age

Rate this:

Rate this:

Error 1: Not All Dollars Are Created Equal

Error 2: Statistics are Slippery Things

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

(Most of) The Winners

Documentaries that need some championing

Probably coming to your town or television…

Rate this: