Freedom! (Or something like it)

Since the first tribal elder crowned himself head honcho thousands of years ago, humankind has had an obsession with its kings. Sure, we don't use that moniker that much these days, and for the most part these “masters” do not wield the all encompassing power they once did -- but they still fulfil their prescribed role as leader of the clan.

When it boils down to it, we really don't value freedom as much as we say we do -- at least not in its purest, most absolute form. As much as our leaders like to rally around the word, proclaim it passionately in speeches and wear it to bed like a set of flannel pyjamas, I don't think society is aware of how thoroughly lacking in freedom it really is. And that is by design.

Inherent in our mindset is a need for order and control. The way we get this is to create a system -- most likely in the form of government -- in order to ensure that this goal is satisfied. Every generation has their own idea of what that government looks like, but it seems to be a vital and unequivocally necessary factor in the development of human society.

If we valued freedom as much as we say we do, it's likely we'd end up with two polar outcomes. The first most commonly cited would be anarchy, or the complete breakdown of the formerly described system -- in essence, a hedonistic society.

In this world, the theory of “survival of the fittest” comes into effect. It's back to the almost animalistic free for-all of our caveman ancestors.

The other example would be that of a system based on law, without the trappings of what we consider “power”. In this system, the people govern themselves without representation according to the dictates of a preestablished and honoured law.

So freedom is relative. Most of us will concur that the first option is clearly undesirable. No one wants the uncertainty and guaranteed disaster an anarchical system would bring about. Nor is it realistic. No matter how dark the circumstances the human race finds itself in, it always reaches out for the familiar and certain. We inevitably revert back to a state of civic order and enforced hierarchy.

The second example -- that of the leaderless “utopia” -- is somewhat of an anomaly in the narrative of the human journey. The most vibrant instance of this form of “order” happened sometime around 12^th century B.C., in the ancient land of Israel. Known as the time of the Judges, the Israelites were required by God to adhere to the requirements of the law. This “code of conduct” as it were was to ensure that justice was maintained, that wealth was distributed properly, and most importantly -- that the Hebrew identity was kept intact. There would still be territorial division, religion, commerce, legal system, etc; but no recognizable “overseer” with its associated bureaucracy.

Instead, this system focused on collective observance of the law. Violators of the agreement were to be sentenced to death and stoned by the offended community. Also, the Israelite community didn't “outsource" duties as modern societies do today. There was no standing army, tax collectors, or representatives in parliament or congress.

Instead the entire community drew together in times of war to defend a village or pass. They decided matters locally in accordance with the law (similar to a Arabic Shura council). The people gave a tenth of what they had to the service of the priests, who acted as an early social welfare agency and distributed the fund to the poor and sick. They did not allow others to speak for them. They took direct action and spoke for themselves.

And every once and a while, when Israel strayed from this law, or when the situation with its heathen neighbours got too rough, a “judge” would arrive on the scene. Samson, Gideon, Deborah – all were necessary to guide the nation through the times of trouble. They would rally the people, raise an army, and march out to deal accordingly with the troublemakers. However, when the situation cooled down sufficiently the army was disbanded, the people returned to their day to day activities, and the judges disappeared back into the wood work of society.

Problem was, often these judges failed the country. Prone to lust, greed and injustice, the people soon grew weary of them and demanded a more common form of government. The prophet Samuel (himself a judge) tried to talk them out of their request. Among his arguments to dissuade the Israelites was a warning that they would suffer heavily under the requirements of this new king. They would be taxed a tenth of everything they had (on top of the tenth they already tithed). Men would be conscripted into military service, and women would be forced to work menial tasks. Everyone would be unwillingly pressed into service on behalf of the “state”, and the nation would face an unbearable yoke because of it.

But the people responded: “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.” So they got their king -- Saul -- and things turned out pretty much as Samuel had predicted.

And thus concluded the experiment in the non-anarchic government-less state. It seems 200 years without government was just too much for them to handle. Freedom had its price, and the uncertainty inherent in operating such an unorthadox social structure was relinquished by the ancient Israelites in the name of order and predictability.

And we continue to see civilizations willing to pay the cost in order to gain an advantage. Authoritarian governments in particular can be singled out as glowing examples of the “perfection” of this ideal. Democracies may be the “end of history” as Francis Fukuyama likes to put it, but real results occur in authoritarian systems -- especially when these constructs are linked with a capitalist ideology. Such systems incur substantial dividends in terms of economic progress, political stability and international power projection -- but like the Israelites living under their new king, it comes with a price.

Throughout history, the majority of men and women have always been willing to offer their freedom in exchange for the security and peace of mind brought about by government. And equally so, other men (usually the strongest) have been just as willing to answer their call for subjugation.

Western countries have historically sought to strike a greater balance of government and individual liberties than those conformist societies of the East. The American war of Independence, the French Revolution, and nearly every civil war from time immemorial are examples of the human hunger for freedom from tyranny and unnecessary government imposed burden.

The inherent struggle of Western man seems to be between wanting to be subjugated, but only as much as is required or is necessary to fulfil his need for peace, order and predictability. Historically, the problem with this theory is that once this metaphoric snowball gets rolling downhill, it picks up speed and charts an often all too unpredictable path.

Tim Hetherington: Global witness

When British filmmaker and journalist Tim Hetherington was killed by a Libyan army mortar shell outside the city of Misrata on April 20, it brought home to me the indiscriminate nature of war. In all likelihood, the Libyan soldiers dropping the round down the mortar tube were unaware of the journalist's presence in the mix of rebel forces they were targeting.

And he didn't die alone that day. Embedded with Tim was colleague and Getty Image photojournalist Chris Hondros. Chris had taken shrapnel to the head, and died later that day. Their two riddled bodies were unceremoniously loaded aboard a van, driven to a ferry boat, and shipped out of Misrata.

Upon hearing the news, I wondered what would posses someone to willingly place themselves in a situation that runs a high risk of bodily harm or death. Tim's most renowned work was the war documentary Restrepo (nominated for an Oscar) which also saw him embedded with troops in an active combat zone -- this time with a US Army platoon located in an outpost in the Afghanistan mountains.

I suppose the majority of sane individuals would dismiss him as having a death wish, as most would banish the thought of leaving the comfort and safety of home only to witness the horrors of battle. But there is something about the war correspondent that has always intrigued me.

Perhaps it is the carelessness in which they toss themselves into such a macabre venture, or the desire to participate in something few others get to. But more than this, there seems to be an innate need to bear witness to such historic events, to absorb the rawest human emotion, and to connect personally with the sufferings of other people.

I'm not sure what Tim's motives were in Libya. Perhaps it was an ego thing -- an ambition to create a lasting portfolio of notable work -- that propelled him into his work. Maybe it was the adrenaline addiction brought on by combat (so widely claimed by war correspondents) that kept sending him back into harm's way. Whatever the reasoning, his presence on the battlefield -- both in life and in death -- enabled the world to bear witness to the savagery of the Libyan civil war.

The cynic in me wonders if he thought he could get away with it all. Movies and television has left us with a perception that the good guy always lives to fight another day. We identify with the protagonist: though he takes a beating and watches his buddies drop on the beach beside him, he somehow manages to make it through the adventure fairly intact -- if not enriched by the experience. I truly believe we carry this sense of entitlement with us in our daily lives, both individually and collectively.

Nobody thinks they're going to be the poor old schlep that spends two years training for war only to step off the landing craft and onto a land mine. Just look at a community that has been rocked by natural disaster or a mass shooting. “This is supposed to happen to other people" they say. "I never thought this would happen to me.” 

I don't think journalists are the exception to the rule. In all likelihood these people are even more aware of the risks they are taking. However, they are probably falsely reassured by their record of having beaten the odds. Does this mean they should stop doing what that they're doing?

Without such individuals, there would be only the embellished and misconstrued tales from the soldiers themselves. As a society, we have come to expect such invasive coverage of current events. We want to be privy to all the details. It informs our opinions, which in turn leads to the development of our public policy.

I believe that Tim thought he would make it out of Libya alive. Despite the ferocity of the battle that day, I doubt any of the embedded reporters in Tim's little group could imagine they would be on the receiving end of a mortar barrage. I'm sure that in their minds eye they would surely see another Libyan sun set, perhaps enjoy a refreshing shower in a nearby Holiday Inn, then head off to the next adrenaline packed assignment.

And like the local victims of the conflict, I'm sure that none of the journalists who survived the mortar attack of April 20 could leave what they had witnessed behind.

Click here to see photos of Tim's last day.

Lies - a new official language

Apparently there's a dog poop problem in Paris. No, seriously. It's everywhere: soiling fashionable footwear, flung about by passing mopeds and filling the air with noxious fumes. In fact, it has gotten so bad that the Parisian authorities have called in a force of undercover Police officers to issue substantial fines to those who brazenly perpetuate such odious acts.

I can just imagine how this goes down:

POLICE OFFICER

You there, halt!

WOMAN WITH DOG

Who me?

POLICE OFFICER

Your dog soiled the sidewalk, and you did not clean it up.

WOMAN WITH DOG

(defiantly)

Napoleon did no such thing!

POLICE OFFICER

You named your dog Napoleon?

(shaking his head)

Regardless, here is a fine for not scooping up the poo poo.

WOMAN WITH DOG

This is not Napoleon's poo poo -- and I am offended at such an accusation!

POLICE OFFICER

But miss, I saw it with my own eyes!

WOMAN WITH DOG

Fine. Then prove it.

So this was the train of thought that led me to a realization: if it wasn't for the video camera I think humankind would be a completely dishonest bunch.

I suppose if my hypothetical Police officer had video evidence he could prove his case beyond a shadow of a doubt. But shouldn't we the jury take the Sheriff's word for it?

Now I'm not talking about the integrity of Police or trusted authorities. What I am interested in is our general reluctance to take any anyone's word as gospel, even of those we should undoubtedly trust.

It used to be that a man's word was his bond. A "yes" was a "yes", and anything but this was to infringe on his honour and integrity. As a kid, there was nothing that got my boiling more than someone who lied to me. I felt it completely unacceptable and unjustifiable. And from my naive and innocent perspective, I was sure the rest of the world saw it the same way too.

I'm not sure when our collective penchant for dishonesty came about. I suppose if we go back far enough we'll end up with the ol' spinsters themselves, Adam and Eve. But I'm talking about a more recent phenomenon, call it the “evolution of the lie."

Perhaps the Cultures of the past had a clearer understanding of the prohibition against lying. The act was usually referred to as “bearing false witness” -- and thanks to Western civilization's Judeo-Christian roots most of our ancestors were fully aware of this verbal taboo. Regardless of the violators motive, to transgress this cardinal rule was an offense in and of itself.

Morally however, our present day media-saturated society views the concept of honest discourse somewhat differently -- and perhaps with a little contempt as well.

So what drives us to lie? Usually we tell them for two reasons: To get away with something we know is religiously or morally wrong; or to usurp something that is not rightfully ours. My guess is that nearly every lie in history falls into these two categories. But what if we didn't lie. What would life be like?

In the Ricky Gervais film The Invention of Lying we're given a glimpse into a world without the ability to lie. Everyone in this truthful world comes off as being a bit silly and gullible, because no one has developed the skills necessary to lie. When Gervais character Mark realizes his ability to deceive, he exploits it -- to his own detriment -- for monetary and personal gain. 

But let's face it. Our society rewards liars. From the crooks on Wall Street to the mild-mannered guest on Maury, we compensate these individuals even though we're fairly certain they are lying to us through their teeth.

I sense the ease with which we tell lies is strongly linked to a host of “environmental” factors – things like blind loyalty to employers or government, greed for money or lack thereof, sexual impulses, influence of media -- and so on.

And the lie is very much linked to one's perception of truth. We see this all the time in the news: Government spin doctors talking their way out of a scandal; Company PR reps misrepresenting or hiding the true nature of an oil spill or nuclear meltdown; Charlies Sheen's denial of mental insanity and drug use.

It's my gut feeling that one factor more then any other is responsible for our desensitization: advertising. The art of the advertisement is to make you aware of a product, then convince you of your need for it. You don't see ads for apples or nuts or celery, but you do see plenty of ads for things that aren't good for you. If a cave man got de-thawed and examined our current crop of TV commercials I'm sure he would be left scratching his head thinking “what does skydiving have to do with cheese cubes?”

My favourite deceivers are the lottery commercials. But you say “yeah, but someone wins those.” Sure, though it won't be you. Statistically, the odds of matching all six numbers on your Lotto 6/49 ticket are 1 in 13,983,816. To make you feel better, your odds of being murdered are 1 in 18,000. That's not to say this lottery thing is technically a lie, but it's close enough to one for me to make it so. (To see a world with truthful adds, click here.)

Joseph Goebbels (the Nazi propaganda Minister) once stated: "If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it." That's what is so dangerous about the environment we've created for ourselves. Think about how often you see the same commercial through the course of an evening's TV viewing. Repetition is a key to remembering things. And if we as a society are espousing and regurgitating these things over and over we'll undoubtedly start to believe our own propaganda.

On the personal and individual level, there is a difference between the way the two sexes approach lying. Apparently men prefer the bald faced lie: “No honey, I'm not sleeping with my co-worker.” Women prefer rather to omit vital details and obscure the truth: “Honey, we weren't sleeping together." Men tend to exaggerate, women tend to minimize.

Men also lie more than women. The average man lies over 1000 times a year. This compares with just over 700 times a year for women.

So what effect does this have on us?  I guess it takes us back to the video camera, recording us and holding us to our word. Without some sort of accountability, both individually and corporately, the spoils of dishonesty will always tempt us to the inevitable lie.   

Mulroney: The educational Opera

Only in Canada would we turn the story of a mediocre Prime Minister into an opera. Perhaps we're a more cultured bunch, but equally unique is our ability to produce films with little intention of ever recouping the invested capital.

Yes, I'm talking about Mulroney: The Opera.  Having never seen the film I'm not yet ready to pass judgement on it, but it does look like a glowing example of Canadian tax payers money put hard to work. And it actually looks kind of entertaining.

But it was an interview featured on TV Ontario's The Agenda that planted a curious question in my overworked cerebral cortex. What was this films raison d'etre -- its purpose? To give some context, interviewer Steve Paikin asked the films director Larry Weinstein why the film had such a small release. Weinstein nonchalantly replied that 72 screens nationwide was a lot for a Canadian film -- despite an extremely short theatrical run of a only two days. Seeing that the project was initially financed by the CBC, I'm guessing Weinstein didn't have too much at stake if the thing bombed.

Part of me was proud of Weinstein's "whatever" attitude towards the financial profitability of the film. Somehow I couldn't picture his hypothetical American counterpart saying the same thing.

But the other half of me felt like throwing an Iraqi shoe at the guy. Not that he wasn't charming and well spoken. He was. It's just that his viewpoint, be it true to reality as it was, did not represent my expectations of what the Canadian Film Industry should be.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't think an Avatar type investment/return in every Canadian production is what were looking for here. Nor does my philosophy preclude a complete abandonment of our unique Canadian-esque heritage or creative processes (whatever that looks like).

If I heard Weinstein right, he saw his five year labour of love as a investment in Canadian culture, possibly influencing and educating future generations of Canadians. I guess this "film as educational tool" attitude is somewhat justified considering the majority of the financing for Mulroney came from the tax payers themselves.

But it says very little for future projects, especially those which strive to reach a larger, more international and in particular -- a more commercially oriented market. Being the hungry beast that it is, a feature film requires a huge capital investment-- an investment which needs to be recouped if one ever expects to have an opportunity to make another film.

This isn't such a problem in Canada where so few films are made anyway, and where content is often highly scrutinized for its Canadianishness before it ever sees the light of production. But is it possible that Canada will ever see an American style movie industry with all its private venture trappings and blockbuster appeal?

Given that Canada's market is approximately 10% the size of a comparative US market, Mulroney: The Operas opening on 72 screens equates to about 720 screens south of the border. This sounds like a lot, until we consider that The Tourist opened on 2756 screens. Given a run of two days, my hunch is that the theaters involved didn't see much commercial benefit in showing the flick. This shouldn't be seen as unusual, as only 1% of Canadian box office receipts actually come from Canadian films.

This isn't to say that our films aren't interesting or are culturally insignificant. It speaks more to an inherent Canadian bias against private investment in “Hollywood North” then it does anything else. Ironically, the price of the public controlling the Canadian film industries purse strings is simply that the general movie going public would rather see more of something else from somewhere other than here.

The barriers erected by the Canadian government to prevent well known American talent from appearing in publicly funded films is an example of such protectionism. Though understandably justifiable (after all, who wants some pretty American actress walking off with Canadian taxpayers money) – the policy inevitably curtails creative and entrepreneurial efforts to capitalize on a film stars global popularity and special talents.

The situation we've created for ourselves is a self-perpetuating and all too familiar one – our most talented and promising actors head South, get a big gig on some big US network and buy a mansion in LA. Without a doubt their suntanned hides end up getting featured on the ever-eager-to-promote-anything Canadian Entertainment Tonight: Canada, where they fondly reminisce about the good life back “home” and reassure us that, yes, they are still essentially Canadian.

But of course we true Canucks are too polite to resent their backstabbing ways, and we wish them well in their new found life of wealth and fame. We accept their defection to the land of pay-for-it yourself health care and selfish individualism -- only to claim them as our own during those identity searing conversations about what it is to be an insecure Canadian.

Okay, so I'm being a little facetious. But what of the Canadian film industry, eh? It certainly isn't suffering for lack of talent. But is our socialist bent hurting more than it's helping?

I once heard Paul Gross (Due North, Passchendaele) discuss the hurdles he had to jump through to get financing for his films. His conclusion was that private funding was absolutely necessary and mostly missing from the Canadian filmmaking experience; that government funding still had a role to play; and that for better or worse things in the Canadian entertainment industry had to change.

Quite understandably, the big American studio system that developed in the 1920's through 50's never developed in Canada. Companies like Warner Bros, Columbia, Fox and Paramount have no Northern equivalent. And unlike the publicly funded system in Canada at the time, Hollywood was for the most part profit driven. The studios controlled pretty much every aspect of the movie making process – from filming on the massive sound stages, to production, to distribution -- even extending to control and ownership of the movie theatres themselves.

That wasn't so much the case after the 1948 Supreme court ruling abolishing such practices, but the foundation of an effective and thriving entertainment industry had already been established. In Canada, the CBC was pretty much the be all and end all of production. Nearly everything that was made featured a satirical political slant, and because the industry was publicly funded content primarily promoted the values and beliefs of the average Canadian.

There's been a host of Canadian directorial success stories too- David Cronenburg, Atom Egoyan, Ivan Reitman, Paul Haggis, James Cameron – just to name a few. But rarely did their notoriety come as a result of a truly Canadian project.

That's not to say that Canada hasn't had a few random hits. Passchendaele ( a big budget war movie which included a $5 M dollar grant from the Alberta government), Bon Cop, Bad Cop, Mike Clattenburg's hilariously vulgar Trailer Park Boys TV show and film, The Trotsky -- are all examples of fairly recent breakthroughs that “made it” and had notable Canadian and international recognition. For the most part however these works were still products of the Canadian tax payer.

But I can't remember the last time I heard an American producer crying for more government involvement in getting a film made. Perhaps this is due to their legacy of self-determination slash fear of tyranny mentality that drives them to seek a profit margin with their films. By allowing for substantial private investment, they seem be able to maintain and support an industry which makes available future funds to both deserving and talented filmmakers.

Then again, perhaps the Canadian film industry is simply too fragile to stand on its own, or the population base too few to validate the huge capital investment these films entail. Perhaps government should be there to ensure Canadian culture is promoted and protected from the polluting influence of the those damn Yankees.

But like so many other incidents of Canadian brain drain, if we don't allow for reduced government regulation and increased private funding, it is likely we'll get more of the same culturally significant yet rarely seen films. All I know is that if I had spent five years making a film, I would want it to end up as something more than a high school teaching aid.