Contemporary Cinematic Documentary and The Rebirth of Content.

Through an understanding of the historical context and the structuralism of new cinematic documentary, does the renaissance in documentary released for the cinema redefine the boundaries of factual filmmaking to have a positive effect on society or is it simply superficial technique that ultimately cheapens the potential message?

By Jeremy Owen MA Media, Communication & Critical Practice Table of Contents:

Abstract Page 01

Acknowledgements Page 02

Introduction Page 03

Chapter 1. Form and Language in Documentary Page 06

Chapter 2. Defining Documentary from an Historical Perspective Page 10

Chapter 3. Exploring the Observational: Page 18 Questions of Science, Art and Reality

Chapter 4. Reading Documentary, Hoop Dreams Page 25

Chapter 5. Reading Documentary, Dogtown & Z Boys Page 29

Conclusion Page 34

Bibliography Page 39

Appendix Page 44

Abstract.

Documentary suggests ‘fullness and completion, knowledge and fact’ (Nichols, 1994:1). A documentary text can provide a representation of life that an audience will read as a truthful expression of an actuality. The last fifteen years of film production have witnessed an explosion in the number of documentary films being made for cinema exhibition, a direct result of a categorical rise in the number of people actively attending the cinema to watch a documentary film. Critics have suggested that this unprecedented popularity is solely down to savvy selection of topic, easy to follow narrative structures and visual techniques derived from narrative film as entertainment for the masses. By using such populist techniques the films are said to be attempting to guarantee box office success but in so doing are destroying the integrity of the documentary text by undermining an ideology established over 100 years of evolution. This research project explores this criticism by gaining an understanding of the form and language of documentary film, as expressed by key theoretical approaches developed by Bill Nichols and Michael Renov. Through an extensive exploration of the history and context that has informed the development of documentary as cinematic form, the paper engages the notion that the unprecedented popularity of the new films maybe a signifier that a new method of documentary has been established, a form that is able to distil the many disparate approaches down into one extremely effective principle for the provision of an exact representation of the reality of a given subject as experienced by those involved. This discussion is applied to close textual analysis of two case study texts: Hoop Dreams (1994) and Dogtown & Z Boys (2001). In so doing, the research demonstrates that the evolution of documentary has indeed given rise to a technique that has become a byword for authenticity in a filmed context. Rigid, observational filmmaking has become a ubiquitous approach that has informed documentary since the Second World War, is an applicable surface style used by fictional filmmaking but also may explain the rise of Reality TV. Its apparent incorruptibility has led the critics of new cinematic documentary to believe that any other approach is suspect. Through a thorough dismissal of this notion, the conclusion of the research acknowledges that the new films are not functioning in a way radically different to earlier forms of documentary, but rather provide a post‐modern rethinking of established modes and conventions. Far from destroying the genre the new films actually facilitate survival of documentary in a changing cultural landscape.

1 Acknowledgements.

Thank you to all those with a hand in putting this together:

Lynda Dyson Tim Horsburgh Callum Macrae Peter D Osborne Shane O’ Sullivan Stacy Peralta PC Allan Sharp Jonathan Wright

2 Introduction.

Over the last 15 years there has been a rise in the popularity of documentary film exhibited in the cinema. Theatrically released documentary has enjoyed surges in audience enthusiasm before but it has generally remained a marginal interest (Renov, 2007). In contrast, films such as Bowling for Columbine (2002), Super Size Me (2004) or Capturing the Friedman’s (2003) have achieved a near mythical status within popular culture. Their rise is easily identifiable by box office statistics and the omnipresence of said films in Amazon.com style ‘Top Ten Films Ever’ lists. If further proof was needed, the discussion around documentary has grown out of industry media and academic texts and into more unexpected carriers, as exemplified by the influential subcultural style magazine Lodown publishing its own canon of documentary films (Klein & Klein, 2007). The fact that documentary is now popular with the fashion conscious suggests popularity with a sector that likes to view itself as being more informed than the average citizen. A 2008 study certifies that deduction by revealing that the films audience consists mainly of viewers of ‘Art House’ films (Hardie, 2008). In that way new cinematic documentary audiences are not the general cinema‐going public but a smaller demographic interested by what they perceive to be more challenging work as is evident in their taste for productions that stand aside to mainstream entertainment product. With such coverage these new films are clearly in the public mind. This could easily be dismissed as the collective audiences’ short memory but that ignores the fact that something must have peaked the audiences’ interest enough to establish this renaissance. It would seem that something within their structure is capturing the publics’ imagination more effectively than earlier films. In that way they could emerge as standing apart from earlier films. The rise in popularity of new cinematic documentary has been consecutive with a noticeable influx of general documentary theory, as my bibliography demonstrates. Although useful in gaining an overview this writing does not engage with the contemporary cinematic form as a separate entity. In preparing this research proposal I encountered only one theorist covering the new work specifically and at any length, namely Stella Bruzzi with ‘New Documentary’ (2006). In the light of such unprecedented success it would seem that a dedicated academic thesis would be useful to determine whether a contemporary cinematic documentary might function differently to what might be described as a standard ‘documentary’ text. Within this general documentary academia certain names have appeared as prolific thinkers on the subject, Bill Nichols emerges as the main exponent. He has published a number of key texts on the topic and is often discussed within other writers work. His notable input has been his distillation of the many varying approaches taken by documentary down to a system of five modes. Michael Renov has taken a similar route and defined four fundamental tendencies

3 of documentary that attempt to understand their motivation. I will return to both of these theories in Chapter 1. Taken collectively the many discussions in these publications demonstrate that a documentary is a problematic text that stands alone from other film types. Problems in definition of documentary occur because individual films each tackle a different subject or when they do cover a similar subject they will do so in different ways. Classification of a fictional narrative film is a simpler proposition. A number of texts can share common elements such as storyline, character types, setting, mood and so forth. These singular films become part of a recognisable genre when seen beside films that share similar elements. Although problematic, Nichols has defined one constant; collectively all documentary is an attempt at historical representation with a social responsibility derived from the contribution the form makes to popular memory. The pleasure for an audience is its capacity to suggest an objective view of its subject (1991). In a similar attempt at defining genre traits of the contemporary cinematic form Nichols has outlined potential signifiers. In his view the films:

“retain the persuasive qualities that first distinguished documentary but do so with unashamed borrowings from the repertoire of the fiction filmmaker, such as individuals who possess star quality, point of view shots to build character identification, flashback, suspenseful dramatic structure, subjective interpretations of past events or states of mind, re­enactments that may depart from historical record, and powerful musical scores.” (2007:82)

That Nichols is correct in his identification is corroborated by Paul Arthur’s comments on Capturing the Friedman’s, a film that ‘trafficks in grossly manipulative dramatic structures and effects of a kind usually associated with classical Hollywood’ (2003, p5). Arthur and Nichols seems to be suggesting that a common link between the many films is an apparent need to take a populist approach, a thought echoed in comments made on Michael Moore’s award winning Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004), a film that has no qualms to “layer on the music, ratchet up the montages and strap their audience into the rollercoaster ride of outrage” (Rich, 2004:15). It is criticism such as this that seems to be the only formal approach taken to identify common traits in the contemporary form. Such criticism is in opposition to any kind of Brechtian ideals of “pleasurable learning” (1974:73). For these critics a more apt statement might read; “All too often the beautiful form has been chosen to conceal the reality.” Indeed, this could be another quote from a contemporary critic but in fact it is 1930’s Avant‐Garde filmmaker, Hans Richter, detailing the habit of early filmmakers to record the picturesque over authenticity (1986:47). As modern critics seem to be suggesting, the aesthetics of contemporary cinematic documentary are a similar attempt to ‘beautify’ their content, rendering it palatable for an audience used to multiplex entertainment. In this view documentary must be true to its social responsibility and be a serious affair devoid of frivolous technique. It seems impossible to

4 discuss structural and aesthetic aspects of the films without deeming such approaches as going some way to destroy the integrity of the film. A film that is in danger of positioning the viewer as a passive witness to a spectacle rather than as an engaged viewer of a subject matter that is presented as both verifiable and authoritative seems to have failed in its remit. In the light of the prevalence of films using these techniques it seems that rather than ignoring such approaches, contemporary criticism critical should acknowledge that these processes might be vital to their success. It seems logical that if a modern movement is identifiable, then in a similar way to which film studies can identify genre traits for narrative film, creative similarities between contemporary cinematic documentaries could be used to construct a set of stylistic genre rules. The most constructive method with which to achieve this is to refer to the texts themselves. I propose to carry out a close textual analysis and comparison of two films. To select these case studies a loose definition of ‘new cinematic documentary’ is required. This is as follows; primarily the film will have been released for cinema exhibition, secondly, it will have been made between the mid 1990’s and 2009; finally it will have enjoyed a certain amount of popularity leading to its inclusion in an unofficial canon created by constant references in Pop Cultural discussions and academic texts. The first film to be discussed under these criteria will be Hoop Dreams (1994), a film often suggested to be an initiator of the movement. The second case study is Dogtown and Z Boys (2002) a film that exhibits in triplicate exactly the qualities that critics seem to view as suspicious. The selection of films allows for an objective comparison in that they are both sports films. This is a conscious attempt to avoid potential discrepancies that may arise from comparing films of differing subjects. Close textual analysis will uncover similarities and differences in the formal approaches taken by the filmmakers in addition to any details concerning their production (See Appendix A) that may suggest reasons why these approaches were developed. In order to understand any professional practice methodology the final part of my research will establish a set of rules that can be applied to shape the content of a documentary film. My conventions will be derived from the qualities found solely in contemporary cinematic documentary. The successful completion of such a set of criteria would potentially allow any film practitioner to construct a film that would be as successful as the case studies. From that process I believe that it will be possible to arrive at a final answer to the question of whether contemporary cinematic documentary can be held up as a bastion of journalistic integrity; a method of film practice through which the attention of the masses can be captured and honest and truthful messages broadcast to the majority, or are they employing the tactics of the mass media to simply sell a product and in so doing become guilty of purveying surface style over ill‐conceived content?

5 Chapter 1. Form and Language in Documentary

The unprecedented popularity of the contemporary cinematic documentary suggests that their audience has found in them a new and effective method of unlocking truth. Their critics take an oppositional view and suggest that the popularity is nothing more than a display of how effective certain techniques are in creating a text that is attractive for an audience. As a term, documentary suggests ‘fullness and completion, knowledge and fact’ (Nichols, 1994:1). A documentary text therefore provides a representation of life that the audience reads as a truthful expression of an actuality through the investment of a high degree of trust. The message and meaning of new cinematic documentary is therefore primarily a question of how far their technique will affect the level of trust held by the audience. To begin reading texts with that approach in mind some kind of theoretical device will be useful. A leading methodology are the Five Modes Of Documentary Representation, devised by Bill Nichols as an attempt to identify a set of criteria for how documentary film functions. Nichols has written at length on each of the criteria but for the purposes of this research it is acceptable to acknowledge the key principles. The first mode is Expository. Such films address the viewer directly. They are descriptive and informative and produce an argument about the historical world that has the feeling of providing a solution to a problem. A common device within texts is a ‘Voice of God’ commentary that lends authority and objectivity. Any visual elements such as inter‐titles, re‐enactments and interviews will serve as illustration to what has been said in the narration (1991). Then follows the Observational mode. Here the camera provides a direct representation of events. The approach raises ethical considerations, as the non‐intervention of the filmmaker toward events is crucial. As such the technique has found use as an ethnographic tool. Identifying facets would be indirect address, filming with available light, synchronous sound and long takes. The audience must concentrate on the filmed subject and not the presence of the filmmaker thus conveying a sense of unmediated access to the world (1991). In contrast the Interactive mode asks the opposite question; what would happen if the filmmaker were to directly influence events? Techniques such as the interview are used to create a literal dialogue between the filmed and the filmmaker wherein the filmmaker can engage in a participatory, conversational or interrogative fashion. In so doing the authority of the text shifts to the subject of the film as their responses and actions create the central argument. The extent to which the film‐maker is seen in the films can vary, sometimes invisible, sometimes seen, there will always be a mood that situates the text in the present tense, purveying a sense of knowledge and partialness (1991).

6 Furthering this notion of the audience being made aware of the film making process is the Reflexive mode. This presents a challenge to the sense of ‘reality’ set up by previous 3 modes. It attempts to expose the conventions of documentary by moving the focus from discussions of an external subject to the process of representation itself. Techniques such as unexpected juxtapositions heighten the viewer’s consciousness of their own relationship to what they are watching in addition to the camera’s relationship to its subject. The attitudes and belief systems displayed by the subject of the film become intertwined with the texts own. In that sense the audience is no longer external, they have become part of the film (1991). The final mode is the Performative. Whereas Reflexive filmmaking attempts to expose the process, this fully embraces the expressive qualities of film to indirectly represent the world. The evocation of mood becomes important and is expressed through a subjective, stylised view more common to fictional cinema. All techniques available that help to tell a story can be called upon, therefore re‐staging of events or edited montages to heighten drama can be freely used. Whilst the subject matter is always concrete, its meanings can be manipulated according to the filmmaker’s own opinion (1994). In investigating the theory a major problem becomes apparent. Although rigidly structured they cannot be taken as finite. Nichols himself views them to be somewhat loose and subject to re‐interpretation because they are tied to formal developments within documentary history (Nichols, 1991). When introduced in Representing Reality (1991) the modes numbered four but by 1994’s Blurred Boundaries, Nichols added a fifth to account for new methods that started to find popularity within newly released films. However I suggest that their boundaries are not so much blurred as movable, meaning each mode is not mutually exclusive. For example an expository text can remain rigidly adherent to the principles of that mode but can still contain performative elements. In the same way interactive and reflexive elements have become less distinct over time. A Voice of God narration functions as authoritarian and unquestionable but now so do specifically conducted interviews. Reflexive techniques no longer serve to expose the filmmaking but rather have become subsumed into the process as devices that add richness to the image rather than questioning it. As a result the modes must be used in conjunction with a secondary principle to generate a more informed reading. As proposed by Michael Renov, there are four Fundamental Tendencies of Documentary that function as ‘modalities of desire’, a set of ‘impulsions’ that inform the documentary discourse (1993:22). As Renov suggests, documentary can; Record, reveal or preserve ­ This is documentary working in the ‘image capture’ mode, it is the drive to create an impression of a moment that is as authentic as possible (1993).

7 Persuade or promote ­ Here documentary works in a rhetorical fashion, as a tool to present an editorialised message that can achieve personal or social goals on behalf of the filmmaker or the organisation they work for (1993). Analyse or interrogate ­ Working as a continuation of the recording tendency, documentary can go further and ask previously unacknowledged questions on its subject. Similarly the medium itself shouldn’t be static, it should always be asking questions of its own form. (1993) Express ­ Factual material can have an aesthetic quality, a function that must be considered even in a didactic discourse if the material is to induce emotion or pleasure in the viewer (1993). Renov is keen to stress that one given work will not necessarily balance all these tendencies. As a whole genre documentary is very unbalanced, one text can be ruthlessly persuasive whilst others make more use of the expressive function but do not hard sell their message. In that light these tendencies function more as a set of creative possibilities rather than a dictatorial set of rules. As with Nichols modes we must be aware that this approach has shortcomings. For example the analytical mode could be said to belong to a tendency to record; understanding deeper meanings behind what is being observed would seem to be an essential part of the observation and preservation process. Similarly expression perhaps is not worthy of its own criteria as it is such a subjective area, a ruthlessly observational film‐maker may feel that they are making no use of expressive qualities at all but simply obtaining coverage shots. This ignores the fact that a viewer is free to find beauty in anything they see and therefore will always be liable to miss a point the filmmaker wishes to express. Working in unison both approaches do help to supply a clear reading of a text, for example it is now possible to state that the need for expression in documentary has given rise to the performative mode whilst the analytical element has grounding within the reflexive mode. That noted there is a major problem with both approaches and that is that much academic theory of the cultural industries is a retrospective analysis that can identify modes and conventions but ignores the production processes that inform their use. Indeed, as practitioners interviewed as background to this study expressed, such theory is not relevant to the actual production process (See Appendix B & C). As is evident by Nichols’ own reassessment, the theories are inextricably linked to the history and practice of documentary filmmaking and both allude to motivation behind the practice. In my discussion I have also made allusions to the historical context affecting their success as a methodology. Therefore any theory of documentary ignores the factors informing a films production at its peril. To avoid such discrepancy the following chapter will view documentary film in relation to a wider context of general history but also as part of an evolving film culture. Documentary will be seen as not existing solely on its own terms but as part of social system

8 that has demanded different forms and approaches at different times. Through an assessment of this history I believe it is possible to arrive at a better understanding of the modes, their shortcomings, and as a result, the films themselves.

9 Chapter 2. Defining Documentary from an Historical Perspective

Despite how revolutionary they may appear at first glance, contemporary cinematic documentaries are the product of a social and historical context. To understand their idiosyncrasies we must therefore first understand their heritage. A factor complicating that exercise, and perhaps also suggesting a reason why this new form of documentary has seemingly not been explored in full, is the fact that historically any definition of documentary has been subject to contention (Nichols, 2007). By taking the example of our own personal general knowledge on the subject, shaped as it is by many years of exposure to TV and film, it does seem possible to say that a set of commonly accepted rules as to what constitutes a documentary has evolved over time. That these rules exist would seem to be corroborated by statements made by popular bookshop cinema primers, such as ‘Film Studies’ from the successful ‘Teach Yourself’ series, who see the accepted recognisable traits of a documentary or non‐fiction film as being the following:

‘Firstly, the events filmed must be unstaged; that is, the events must exist above and beyond the activity of filming them. In fiction films, by contrast, events are staged for the express purpose of being filmed. The unstaged nature of the events in documentaries therefore suggest that the events have an existence independent of the cinema. This is what gives them their authenticity.

Secondly, documentaries are conventionally understood to be non­fiction films. In other words, they must be sharply distinguished from fiction films. The world depicted in the documentary is real, not imaginary.

Thirdly, it is often assumed that the documentary film­maker simply observes and makes and objective record of real events.’ (Buckland, 2008:138)

Applying our own knowledge these seem to be a very comprehensive breakdown of the way in which a documentary works. On viewing a film exhibiting these traits I, as a member of the general audience, would read the given text as being a documentary film. Bill Nichols gives further weight to these rules by expressing a similar, albeit more concise version in his own basic guide which appears as a chapter in the BFI’s ‘Film Book’; “That documentaries address aspects of the real world, that they feature non­actors and confront social issues is commonly accepted” (2007: 81). Nichols goes on to state that such common acceptances have been interpreted differently throughout the history of cinema. In his view silent Soviet cinema would have a very different reading to that of 1960s America for example. This has had the ultimate effect that to date no singular definition of what constitutes a documentary film has been agreed upon within the public sphere (Nichols, 2007).

10 Although no concrete premise for documentary exists, there is a strong argument for making the claim that the genesis of cinema is a direct result of what could be described as a ‘documentary impulse’. As Bazin observed, photography “embalms time” and thus the motivation to use the camera as a visual and historical recording device becomes ontological to the technology (2005: 14‐15). The most important fact, and perhaps the most obvious, is that in a discussion of cinema this impulse is actually one of two primary discourses. This is illustrated by point 2 in the ‘Teach Yourself’ rulebook; a documentary film must be understood in sharp contrast to a fiction film. Indeed the history of cinema can be read and understood in terms of the simultaneous development of these two distinct approaches. In making a case for the ‘first documentary filmmaker’ many film pioneers might suggest themselves but it is Eadward Muybridge who has become the most influential with his multi‐camera experiments into animal locomotion. This achievement famously won him a bet but it also brought forward the idea that photographs could be presented as moving images. Although not strictly made using a moving image camera, the experiments were “photographed with automated electro­photographic apparatus at regulated and accurately recorded intervals of time,” a description that does serve as a precursor to the film camera (Herbert, 2009:1). Muybridge’s work fits the definition of documentary in that it is a rational and objective scientific observation of an event that, although staged in the sense that they were in controlled studio environments, are recordings of a physical act that would exist whether the camera was present or not. Muybridge’s work led directly to the Kinetoscope. Indeed Edison’s initial experiments into moving image produced a filmstrip that featured Muybridge’s equestrian photographs (Hass, 1976). The first official Kinetoscope short was Fred Ott’s Sneeze (1894). Whilst definitely moving image the piece is not ‘documentary’ in the strictest sense as the sneeze was a re‐enactment (Winston‐Dixon & Audrey‐Foster, 2008). The Kinetoscope also did not project an image, so the honour for the first ‘moving picture’ presentation goes to the actualités of Louis and Auguste Lumière, premiered in Paris, 1895. These short films were intended as simple recordings of everyday life, the most famous being the arrival of a train in a station to which the audience response was to turn and run away (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). This extraordinary turn of events is a very good signifier of the perceived reality presented by the moving image. The ordinariness of the Lumière’s subjects, combined with the static camerawork and sparse editing are an early example of realism in cinema in that they attempted to capture an impression of a historical situation that appeared to be a direct representation of real life (Armstrong, 2005). The reality outside of the camera frame was very different. The people populating the scenes were not general public as was

11 suggested, but rather employees, friends and relatives directed to act naturally for the camera (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). This idea of constructing a reality within the film frame started with Edison but found an initial apotheosis the work of George Méliès, his most famous film being Voyage to the Moon (1902). The film stands in direct opposition to the Lumière’s work through its conscious difference as a fantastical imagining of a lunar space mission, replete with the visual trickery one might expect (Armstrong, 2005). A film studies cliché suggests that documentary has continued the work of the Lumière’s whilst fictional film has expanded the idea of film as spectacle as pioneered by Méliès. Although simplistic this effectively demonstrates the two pathways taken by film throughout its history. One approach attempts to capture the real experience, the other is a subjective exploration of what might be reality. This fact is not immediately obvious as being important to the focus of this study but it becomes so when it is noted that the two forms are not mutually exclusive. The evolution of cinematic technique over time has led audiences to read what they are seeing on screen as being ‘real’ and ‘authentic.’ This has been described by film theorists as the ‘The Reality Effect’ (Black, 2002:7). Interestingly in these early films, the elements of the images that were considered to be creating this impression of reality were not the animated people as might be expected. Audiences were used to seeing people performing on stage in a theatrical context, therefore the novelty of these newly moving images that proved most intriguing and sold the images as being authentic representations of real life, were the minutiae of the image; leaves flickering in the wind, or waves on an expanse of water (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). In acknowledging the existence of the reality effect an immediate paradox becomes evident. Techniques that are read as signifiers of reality in a documentary context are often appropriated by fictional films to lend an element of authenticity to their narrative, thus questioning the authenticity of documentary in the first place. Conversely, as was outlined in the introduction, documentary itself is often questioned for using techniques more common to fiction films, new cinematic documentary is no exception and often comes under fire for its usage of Hollywood style crowd pleasing methods. In studying the history of documentary, such criticism is not only reserved for contemporary films. The first official claim for a film made in a form that the modern viewer might recognise as documentary is often cited to be Nanook of the North (1922), directed by Robert Flaherty (Nichols, 2007). The film promotes itself as being an ethnographical study of Inuits, but is now criticised by modern critics as not being documentary in the strictest sense. Nanook is a direct example of the cross pollination of the two cinematic pathways. Most obviously the modern viewer will see that the film uses techniques often seen in silent narrative film e.g. inter‐title cards giving exposition to the images or fade out transitions

12 between scenes. More importantly Flaherty is charged with staging events. For example, the film features hunting sequences. In the reality outside of the film, the tribesmen were using rifles. Flaherty viewed this as being not as traditional as it should be and suggested a return to the old fashioned methods (Renov, 2004). In this event we see the reality effect played out. Flaherty, unschooled in any techniques to the contrary, simply judged the situation not to be ‘real’ enough for the audience he perceived would be watching his film. If, as a result of a revisionist approach, Nanook does not stand as the first true documentary film then the work of Russian film pioneer Dziga Vertov can also make a claim. In the early 20th Century the Soviet Union embraced film as a medium that could reach a widespread audience of illiterate workers and peasants and was free from the bourgeois associations of painting, theatre or poetry (Nichols, 2007; Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). As a result, film as a potential mass communication form took hold. With films such as 1929’s Man With a Movie Camera, Vertov attempted to capture a feeling of life as it was through intense editing of filmed slices of life. As the pre‐film titles make clear the film was an attempt at ‘a cinematographic diffusion of real events’ in order to tell the story of a day in the life of a city. Eschewing the already developed filmic conventions of inter‐title cards and voice over (n.b which the pre‐film titles make note of) the film is a barrage of juxtapositions, slow‐motion, stop frame animation and other special effects. The finished results, although gleaned from reality, become transformed into a lyrical, impressionistic response. It must be noted that at that point ‘documentary’ as a descriptive term did not exist. Therefore, like Flaherty before him, Vertov set his own terms as to what a documentary film might be. Although the reality ultimately expressed supported a Marxist view, that an ‘art of facts’ could serve as an antidote to the opiate of the masses that was entertainment, the work was able to explore the limitations of the medium free from any boundaries of technological expectation (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006:48‐49; Nichols, 2007). The term ‘documentary’ was not coined until 1926 and is reputed to have been associated with remarks made by British film producer John Grierson whilst watching another of Flaherty’s ethnographic studies, Moana (Roberts, 2003). Functioning through Government sponsorship as director of the influential British General Post Office Film Unit, Grierson’s films ultimately promoted the interests of the state. From that position he was able to fine‐tune his approach. A film such as Night Mail (1936), the most successful of the GPO Film Unit’s productions, demonstrates his favoured techniques. For Grierson, an erudite and in this case, poetic, voiceover should be used with carefully composed images but again very often real life actions were restaged for the camera. This creative treatment of actuality draws on the interpretative imagination in order to reveal an underlying reality (Corner, 1996; Roberts, 2003). Through such an overtly artistic approach Grierson believed that documentary could have a social purpose in that they could lead to democratic reform and the development of

13 citizenship (Corner, 1996) although, as demonstrated by Night Mail, the films themselves were not journalistic, political or propagandist. This particular approach has now been recognised by contemporary theoretical criticism. The term ‘Griersonian’ describes a particular socially conscious approach to factual filmmaking, although as Corner warns, any attempt to apply these principles as guidelines for professional practice or critical evaluation would likely to be faced with a ‘stiff challenge’ (1996:15). That said, this British form of documentary, exemplified by the GPO film unit, became standard practice and created a template that dominated the production of documentary internationally until the development of smaller, faster, lightweight 16 mm cameras during World War Two gave rise to a re‐evaluation of what the genre might be (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). In an attractive transition from the early days of documentary, Richard Leacock, camera operator on Flaherty’s last film, became a leading exponent of a new development in documentary technique. Here Leacock describes the rapture of a new style of filming on a 1954 production called Jazz Dance:

I will never forget the sheer joy of shooting that night, the exhilaration of a small, utterly mobile camera in my hands, whirling, spinning, creating…but was this the only story we could make this way? (1992:252)

It wasn’t. New cameras and improved film stocks meant natural light could now be used to obtain a sharp image whilst portable tape recorders made it possible for the filmmaker to achieve synchronous sound (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). Such ease of use allowed for a spontaneity in filming and documentary that had not been available before. The popularity of this technology led to a huge explosion in films made in this manner and in turn this led to changes in the ethical practice and aesthetics of documentary. In the light of this new immediacy, work after the Grierson model started to be seen as guilty of distorting the truth. As Winston says ‘what indeed could be left of ‘actuality’ after it had been ‘creatively treated’?’ (2006:21). The Grierson approach was largely justified by the limits of technology. Cumbersome equipment and slower film stocks permitted the use of artistic licences such as the restaging of events, commentary, dubbed sound and editing to support exposition (Winston, 2006). Therefore these pioneers did not feel that such a theatrical set up was playing with truth, in their opinion, the events they were recording did happen, just not at the time when the camera happened to be there. The ability to shoot without preparation gave rise to a whole new style of filming in the 1960’s and 1970’s that we would now read as ‘fly on the wall’. New documentary movements built up around these new principles; Direct Cinema in the US, Cinema Verité in France and Observational Documentary in the UK (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). Although very similar in the ideal that the camera should be subject to ‘journalistic ethics of non­intervention and strict

14 observation’ to bring out the ‘realness’ of a situation, the movements have subtle differences that seem to be forgotten in today’s retrospective view. Perhaps the popular conception has been confused by the fact Direct Cinema appropriated the term Cinema Verité for itself (Winston, 2006:22; Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). Direct Cinema aims to record action that appears as naturalistic as possible; subjects should not be influenced by the camera and as such become social actors. The audience should forget that they were watching a film. Devices that had become popular in documentary but made audiences aware of the filmmaking process, such as reconstruction and voiceover, were eschewed to allow the camera to become reactive to the situation unfolding before it. A key text that demonstrates how dramatic this approach could be is Gimme Shelter (1970), made by the Maysles Brothers to chronicle the Rolling Stones’ 1969 Altamount Free Concert. The filmed ‘experience’ moves from rock and roll to tragedy when a near riot and fatal stabbing are caught on camera. With the possibilities of such effectiveness at stake, key exponents of the movement such as Leacock, the Maysles and D.A Pennebaker were keen to dogmatise their approach. What appeared to be free and easy on screen was in actuality, intensely ordered (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006). Cinema Verité was less stringent in comparison to Direct Cinema, its take on the approach favoured a similar naturalism but, as many of its perpetrators identified with the work of Vertov and his belief that the camera was more perfect than the human eye, Cinema Verité developed in a different, more subtle way. Crucially, as the leader of the movement Jean Rouch states, they perceived documentary film as ‘a subjective process’ in that the person behind the camera always makes a choice where they point the lens (1969: 265). As such, for the Verité view, film can never really be objective. A way of installing truth back into a situation was to allow the filmic process to become part of the action and thus become the driving force behind the film. This literally translated into devices such as interviews with subjects or constant intervening of the frame by the filmmakers. The success of these principles created something of a cult around Direct Cinema and Verité. Resultantly such attempts at naturalism became the dominant form of expression within theatrical documentary until the end of the 1970s as audiences seemed to be certainly inspired by the sense of objectivity promoted via both of the movements. (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006) In that way we find the same distrust of reflexive and performative elements as exists in the current debate around theatrical documentary. In hindsight, this attitude could have been instigated by Direct Cinema, untrusting as it was of the approaches taken by the original forms of documentary. As Luciano‐Adams suggests, today’s current debate, revisits that old dialectic, documentary once more has to be ‘either artistic or didactic, either aesthetic or political (2009:22).’ However by looking at the evidence, Verité appears to

15 admit that documentary is a subjective process. In so doing, the resultant in‐built elements of reflexivity automatically defined the next step that documentary would take. Film‐makers now recognised that such interactions between the film‐maker and the subject could be organised into a cohesive narrative and by the 1980s the use of interviews, lights and staged events had started to find their way back into film‐making (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006; Nichols, 2007). A further crucial discovery was a post‐modern approach that recognised a gravitas that could be lent to a film through the usage of archival footage (Nichols, 2007). Films such as De Antonio’s Anti‐Vietnam War statement In The Year of the Pig (1968) pioneered this approach as a reaction against the simplistic observation tactics of Direct Cinema and the meaningless barrage of war footage on Television. De Antonio took his inspiration from earlier models of documentary and pieced together his modern form; a didactic collage of TV newsreel, public broadcasts and new interviews. By 1985 Claude Lanzmann had taken the interview technique to its zenith with Shoah, a nine hour long epic telling the story of the Holocaust solely through specially shot interviews with survivors (Nichols, 2007; Keith‐Grant & Hillier, 2009). The 1980s therefore laid the foundations for what we would now recognise as being a documentary text. At this point documentary technique stands as a pool of proven and effective technical approaches to be utilised according to the filmmaker’s wishes. It is therefore understandable that the public sphere has arrived at no singular definition for a documentary film. An historical reading goes some way to shed light on why that might be by exposing the intricacies of the forms development. In so doing the ‘documentary impulse’ can be seen as a process beginning with the subjectivity of the filmmaker but then becomes conditioned by technological developments, institutional values, and market requirements. In such a view the camera stands as a basic tool in a whole range of ideologies that all attempt to objectify a truth. Critics of contemporary cinematic documentary seem to be unable to accept this fact. They are quick to dismiss reflexive or performative aspects of documentary. For them such overt technique is untrustworthy as it is too busy undermining serious intent (Bruzzi, 2006). Having investigated the historical context their judgements start to become questionable. Their view seems short sighted and focussed on the notion of observational filming as the only authentic methodology. In conclusion, an informed view should see Direct Cinema as a cinematic form that began as a worthy experiment and was able to birth a number of pivotal films in the documentary canon. However, as a concept it was largely discredited almost as soon as it began. That said, something about its principles is attractive to the modern critic. My suspicion is that this is the same ‘myth of objectivity’ (Luciano‐Adams, 2009:22) that saw the principle become the mode d’emploi for two decades of filming. This begs for investigation into the concept of

16 observational camera in order to understand the rise of this legend before we can attempt to answer questions as to what factors inform the choices of contemporary filmmakers.

17 Chapter 3. Exploring the Observational: Questions of Science, Art and Reality

In an attempt to understand the perception of the observational as the only method of documentary with a capacity to capture an authentic reproduction of life, it is important to establish the source of this opinion. If we take the standpoint that the camera is simply a visual recording device then the act of filming becomes eminently scientific through its use of technology for the investigation of life and social/historical phenomena (Renov, 1993). The act of filming has demonstrated the camera’s peculiar capacity to merge the mechanical and the organic. Indeed the cinema in England was originally dubbed ‘The Bioscope’ because of its two‐dimensional representation of the actual movements of life itself (McLuhan, 1964:248). This is an affirmation of Delueze & Guattari’s notion of technological development as inherently social, that man and machine have a symbiotic relationship with all tools being developed in relation to the human body (2004). A special bond between humans and the moving image becomes undeniable. As narrative cinema and most Television output has developed into entertainment, documentary has benefitted from being a format is not the preserve of commercial cinema. Documentary’s increasing box office success is an indication that the contemporary cinema going public may be becoming more aware that the documentary gaze is a successful means by which to study a given subject. As Vertov noted, the invention of the camera or ‘Kino‐Eye,’ had the capacity to ‘put together any given points in the universe,’ and in so doing radically changed the idea of what constituted perspective (1984, p18). As Berger elucidates, this radically altered the idea of what constituted ‘reality’. Pre‐camera, the visible world was thought to be arranged for the Spectator, thus insinuating that they were the centre of the visible world. The camera’s ability to record other times and spaces demonstrated that there was no centre and what was meant by something being ‘visible’ suddenly came to mean something totally different (1972). This new philosophy was reflected immediately by gallery art when the Cubists took the idea of multiple perspectives to create single images with multiple planes of vision (Berger, 1972). Following this lead artists have continued to be liberated from the responsibility of having to reflect life as seen and concerned themselves instead with attempting to capture what it is to be alive. This demonstrates the importance of film and its influence as a theoretical and philosophical concept. Andre Bazin made the point that the development of cinema had established a myth of a ‘total cinema’ (2005:17). This was an ambition that film could provide ‘a complete illusion of life…a recreation of the world in its own image, an image unburdened by the freedom of interpretation of the artist or the irreversibility of time’ (2005:20‐21). The cross‐pollination of gallery art with the documentary impulse threatens to challenge this.

18 In viewing the work of artists such as Bill Viola and Joseph Beuys, on display at the Lenbachhaus in Munich, it is evident that film in gallery art can be a means of recording artistic exploits to ensure that they last for posterity. In this instance film is simply the camera used in a rigid, observational capacity because of a perceived ability to establish an irrefutable ‘truth’ thus facilitating the presentation of the material to those unable to witness the original. But, as Renov suggests, film in Art can also be ‘the visible world – the stuff of documentary ­ enlivened by the eye and mind of the filmmaker. A dialectical play of subject and object’ (2007:13). Film then becomes what I would describe as ‘Film Art’, wherein an artist is free to draw upon all filmic processes, from camera technique to production design to post‐ production effects, in order to explore the limits of the medium away from the institutional demands of film as an industry. Andy Warhol’s film work is of particular interest for his intense experiments in what might be described as unmediated camera. In the hands of such an artist Film Art becomes a self‐ referential device that challenges accepted conventions of the medium itself but also the perceptions of the audience, calling into question the apparent ‘truthfulness’ of the camera. For this discussion, unmediated camera is a term that I will use to describe filmed footage obtained by a camera filming instances or objects indiscriminately in order to record as closely to life as possible, a very definition of Bazin’s ‘total cinema’. What is significant is not necessarily the filming itself but rather the way it is handled afterwards. As practitioners are aware, all film cameras will film indiscriminately if left to their own devices. What then becomes important is when to stop. This raises the issue of mediation and the presentation of the material. There will be a multitude of footage available and in observational terms all of it will be valid. At this point questions need to be asked as to whether it will it be edited or left in longhand state. This approach will seem familiar as the principle behind Direct Cinema. As demonstrated by the running times of theatrical films, there is a human need for narrative storytelling with a beginning, middle and an end, that ‘gets to the point.’ This is evident in a gallery context where it seems very rare for gallery visitors to witness a whole screening. Therefore even Direct Cinema texts must adhere roughly to standard cinema exhibition timings. Michael Waldman, as cited by Bruzzi (2006:128), says ‘getting narrative from observational documentary is hard,’ mediation in cinema released observational film therefore becomes critical. Resultantly, Direct Cinema can never be the greatest exponent of unmediated camera. Instead this approach finds its apotheosis in the work of artists such as Warhol. His films present the viewer with long, uncut sequences of singular images as opposed to complex edited montages making sense as a continuous narrative. Such real time studies of people and objects can be found in the Screen Test series or Empire as observed in the exhibition, Andy Warhol: Other Rooms, Other Voices. The films are similar in that they use exaggerated takes that force the

19 viewers attention onto the subject. Both can be read as a definite reaction against Hollywood convention. Problematising this is the intent behind the work. The Direct Cinema exponents viewed filmic flaws as desirable, seeing them as a guarantee of authenticity (MacDonald & Cousins, 1996). Warhol recognised the immediacy that an apparent clumsiness brought to the work and utilised it as a conscious device to deceive the viewer (Honnef, 1993). The work was further mediated through manipulation in playback. Time codes were often lengthened, a deliberate reflexive effect to alienate the viewer and make them aware of the potential corruptibility of the image (Taubin, 1997). To fast forward to today, the growth of Reality TV as docudrama, makeover show or audience participation game show can be read as the bastard offspring of the Direct Cinema movement (MacDonald & Cousins, 2006). In that sense it is the camera shooting in this apparently unmediated mode that has been the clear winner in the race towards what audiences perceive as ‘reality’ in a filmed context. This widespread success of this observational practice could be due to a human response observed by Avant‐Gardist film‐maker Hans Richter in the 1930s, an apparent perception of the ‘incorruptibility of optics’ that serves as a guarantor of ‘absolute truth’ (Richter, 1986:43). As Vertov suggested, this is perhaps due to the fact that as a machine the camera will always ‘record impressions in a manner wholly different from that of the human eye’, impressions that the camera, ‘since it is perfected, perceives more and better’ (1984:15). On reflection Vertov’s theory suffers from a deep‐seated adoration for technology that is probably due to his being enraptured by Modernity. In the cold light of the 21st Century it seems we now take a cooler view of the camera. The machine is now not somehow better than our own eyes, as Vertov’s ‘Kino‐Eye’ suggests, but more of a surrogate, in that the camera possesses the capability to view a contemporary instance in a way comparable to our direct perception of a situation. Viewing events directly through our eyes we see a continuity of events taking place around us, sometimes this is because of our presence and sometimes despite. In camera language this would be translated as events going on around the frame rather than directly into it, or by long takes with synchronised sound and erratic framing of the shots (Renov, 2004). As Warhol discovered, these combine to create the feeling of present tense (Nichols, 1991; Taubin, 1997). Such results have established a set of visual codes that are immediately processed by the viewer as being carriers of the truth of a given situation. However, as Renov has observed, ‘the technically flawed depiction of a purported reality no longer suffices as a visual guarantee of authenticity’ (1993:23). Accordingly, shaky camerawork, grainy images and synchronous sound are now employed by numerous high concept fictional texts as visual shorthand to display a heightened sense of verisimilitude for dramatic or comedic effect.

20 Narrative cinema has provided a number of attempts. Contemporarily the supernatural thriller Paranormal Activity (2009) is doing great business with its ‘found footage’ home video style, but arguably such appropriation has been more successful within televisual formats, specifically comedy shows such as The Office (2001) or HBO’s Curb Your Enthusiam (1999). Both directly pastiche observational documentary and Reality TV shows in order to create a recognisable atmosphere for their particular brand of unsettling comedy. Under this close analysis, unmediated observational camera could be more accurately described as ‘surveillance’ camera. It would therefore be Big Brother of the Orwellian school that is responsible for the rise in stature of observational camera in documentary culture and therefore behind the fact that the today’s viewer naturally decodes what they perceive to be unmediated ‘raw footage’ as inherently truthful. In that sense today’s audiences, and indeed our naysayers of new cinematic documentary, are informed by wider society and not media culture. We are all aware, particularly in the UK, of our town centres, shopping malls, transport hubs, motorways or local pub car parks being covered by closed‐circuit television cameras to record the potentially antisocial and unlawful activities of the general populace. Whether this is a valuable public safety method or an infringement of human rights is another argument but for this discussion it is important to note that the system exists to be able to make the statement that through this system public spaces have now become broadcastable. Many successful TV brands, such as ITV’s Police, Camera Action (ITV.com, 2009) are taking this raw CCTV footage out of its natural context and presenting it as ‘factual’ entertainment. The idea of a surveillance culture does not stop there. It is not only the CCTV cameras that are producing their own version of Direct Cinema. The perception of unmediated camera as a signifier of truth is further reinforced by developments in mobile technology. In the same way as in the past we might have kept a paper bound diary so we can now all document the world around us via our personal handheld video cameras, or perhaps more contemporarily still, via our smartphones. In a very real sense we all now have the power to become directors of our own documentaries. In itself this is not that important as whilst the material remains private it cannot be said to hold much importance other than for the creator. The real breakthrough is the ease with which an individual can publish their content to a global audience via Internet blogs or user generated content sites such as YouTube.com. This process transforms the material, giving it more power to the point that, theoretically at least, it can compete with professionals in the public sphere on even ground. It is important to note that there is a crossover between the two groups in that it has become standard practice for factual content practitioners to utilise the immediacy of this amateur footage for their own ends as is evident by the inclusion on TV news programmes and websites.

21 To bring the discussion back to the focus of this research, usage of amateur footage has also played a large part within the framework of a contemporary theatrical documentary, as is exemplified by the deeply personal home video filming that contributes to the exposition in films like Capturing the Friedman’s or Grizzly Man (2005). Similarly, in a cinema release that seems well timed for this part of the discussion, the narrative of The Cove (2009) details the procurement of amateur footage in its documentation of a covert CCTV filming operation. With this direct inclusion of ‘surveillance culture’ within the form of a cinematic documentary the discussion has gone full circle. A camera in surveillance mode seems able to get nearer to the essence of a ‘total cinema’ than any other aspect of film culture. Throughout this chapter comments made by Direct Cinema exponent, Albert Maysles, have been called to mind. Maysles has suggested that there are two modes from which a documentary can find the actuality of a situation, ‘One is the raw material, which is the footage, the kind of truth that you get in literature in the diary form, its immediate, no one has tampered with it’ (cited by Bruzzi, 2006:77, from Levin, 1971). The immediacy of raw material taken by a professional documentary filmmaker could equally be applied to footage generated by the typical amateur videographer or CCTV camera. However as an advocate of Direct Cinema, Maysles perhaps will always suggest that the unmediated recording of time and space has the ability to cut through to the truth in a way that other documentary forms do not. Interestingly he later goes on to admit that there is also ‘the other kind of truth that comes in extracting and juxtaposing the raw material into a more meaningful and coherent storytelling form.’ (Cited by Bruzzi, 2006: 78, from Levin, 1971). This is the crucial fact that critics of new cinematic documentary seem to be missing. Here Barthes notion of the paradox within a photograph is useful. He talks of a co‐existence of two messages; one is a pure ‘photographic analogue,’ free from any coding, the other an adulterated version given meaning via the context of its eventual use (1977:18‐19). When applied to CCTV, the recordings might seem to be pure but they are in fact mediated in that they evoke strong emotions within the viewer in respect of a perceived authenticity. It therefore becomes easy to dismiss any content that seems to stray away from that ideal. In so doing one misses the most essential point; documentary can never offer a representation of events that are indistinguishable from the events themselves as the process of filming always will alter the subject forever (Bruzzi, 2006). But if that statement true, the same rigorous critical eye that led Bruzzi to her conclusion must be applied to other forms of observational camera in order to discover if true documentary can exist outside of the cinematic formula. Experiments produced by artists, despite the literal filmic process being unmediated, undergo an imposition of meaning in that they are produced for a gallery context The film does not stand as being pure anymore as the context brings its own associations to the piece. In the

22 same way, the amateur footage that has been encapsulated within a feature documentary film remains the same visual impression in form and composition but has suddenly undergone a complete genetic change by the new context that surrounds it, informed as it is by the director’s editorial intention. Whilst CCTV footage remains unseen it is possible to say that it is unaffected by authorial intention or subjectivity, it is simply an automated process that theoretically would go on infinitely. In so doing it is capable of capturing real life as it happens in a very real sense. Under this type of Panopticism we are all suggested to know we are being watched and therefore regulate our social behaviour (Foucault, 1995; Macey, 2000). I suggest that the majority of people are not criminally minded and have become used to their existence to the point that most of us are not even aware when we are being filmed. This is a direct refusal of Foucault and Bruzzi in that our behaviour is not being altered by the camera’s presence. However, as soon as a crime has been committed and its image is transferred to the fabric of the videotape, what was once a random filmic act has sudden meaning as Court admissible evidence (Sharp, 2009). This idea of CCTV filming suggests that accidental filming could stand as the truest form of documentary. Does a camera that is switched on and films an event unknown even to its owner produce that footage? An example of an effective accidental filming incident can be found from a gallery context. Wolfgang Staehle is recognised for his 2001 piece, Empire 24/7, which was a reworking of Warhol’s film streamed live on the Internet. The piece was essentially an evolving image of the Manhattan skyline similar to the webcam views that we are all used to seeing on sites such as Earth TV.com. As an answer to that familiarity the artist took the idea into the gallery to and in so doing re‐contextualised this type of surveillance image as a comment on representation (Paul, 2008). In itself this was truthful in its intentions and perhaps even stands as documentary in that it was trying to show some aspects of the World as they exist, if not the physical skyline, then the Art World itself. The shocking twist is that the cameras recorded the 9/11 attacks and projected them live onto the gallery walls (Paul, 2008). In itself this incident was pure observational camera, unmediated in the sense no one knew what was going to be filmed. Problematising this is the realisation that the example is only made notable through the fact that it initially existed in a gallery context. With that in mind, we must look elsewhere. As we are all now literally tied to camcorder culture through our mobile phones, perhaps the most simple form of unmediated camera would be footage shot on a mobile phone unbeknownst even to its operator. Here would be an example of filming that is truly unmediated, with no intention on the part of the filmer, no knowledge of the filming by the subject and no context to bring meaning. That is until the filmer creates an audience by perhaps sending it to their friend to show them the amusing film that even they didn’t know they were making. In so doing, they suddenly have become

23 a documentary filmmaker, their film has suddenly has been given meaning through the context of exhibition. It is this area of the discussion that is critical to unlocking the answer to the question driving this study. As Albert Maysles has suggested, it is not the situation recorded that is important but that which the camera records (Bruzzi, 2006). Thus the argument about truth in new theatrical documentary (and indeed old theatrical documentary) should not be about whether certain filming and editing techniques are used or not but rather about the truth that the whole filming process uncovers. As we have seen, all documentary, whether presented as a finished edited production or a piece of raw unmediated footage, for all its sense of spontaneity and suggestion of ‘life caught as it is’ is in actuality always guilty of being ‘tampered with, and organised, ‘reality’’ (Cousins & MacDonald, 2006:5). In terms of the debate around the subjectivity of contemporary documentary filmmaking we are now in a position from which to assess the films themselves. The myth of observational technique as the definitive method from which to present a cinematic truth has been expelled. I am now free to observe the case study texts on their own merits. Through an understanding of major critique and history of documentary I am able to bring order to a reading of a contemporary documentary film. As such I will question directorial intent, assess factors giving rise to the final incarnation of a film, evaluate the impact of the distribution and exhibition on the material and finally observe what we as an audience bring to a text and indeed the effects that wider culture, society and critical theory have on the text and how far that might inform our own reading. Nichols’ and Renov’s principles will be useful in this process to understand how the text is functioning and analyse the effects any stylistic choices have on realism and the message. I will also ask questions as to why the films might have been made in that specific way and where possible cross‐reference that with the production history to attempt to understand how far the intent behind the film went in shaping the final product.

24 Chapter 4. Reading Documentary: Hoop Dreams

US, 1994 Running time: 170mins Directed by Steve James

“…if I don’t make it, don’t y’all forget about me”. William Gates (Hoop Dreams, 1994)

Whilst new cinematic documentary exists it is difficult to pinpoint one film as kick‐starting the revolution. Discussions throughout my bibliography texts have attempted to establish a lineage but all have with differing results. However whereas other films come and go, Hoop Dreams enjoys constant references. Therefore in such a fluid debate such a solid force is a logical place to start. The film is a product of an era that witnessed sport move from a simple past time to become vital to millions of peoples’ self‐branding as a billion dollar leisure industry, a political tool, and a science. Accordingly the film has become an important socio‐cultural text and has been included in the American Library of Congress's National Film Registry (Kartemquin.com, 2009). In terms of film culture, Hoop Dreams currently stands as the only documentary nominated for an Oscar (Best Editing) outside of documentary specific awards. (Wachtel, 2009) In the US the film originally opened in 3 cinemas, making $18,396 on its opening weekend. The word of mouth and critical reception was good and the theatrical lifetime gross topped at $7.8 Million (Box Office Mojo.com, 2009). Although a modest return in comparison with even the lowest performing Hollywood entertainment product, this can now be seen as an indication of the surge in popularity that the documentary film was about to experience in the 15 years following. The film was directed by Steve James, produced/photographed by Peter Gilbert and written by James with Fred Marx. This team raised finance from the National Endowment of the Arts and the Public Broadcasting System who together supplied the $5000 budget. The production was supported by Kartemquin, an organisation set up in 1966 for the creation of social commentary through observation. (Wachtel, 2009) The film was originally intended to be a 30 minute public service short for screening on the Public Broadcasting System but with 250 hours of raw footage shot over five years the film was edited down to its final 2 hours 50 minutes running time which opened it up as a prospect for cinematic exhibition (Wachtel, 2009).

25 The filmmakers were not aware of how big this film could become, indeed it was only once they were well into the filming that they started to feel that they might have a serious proposition on their hands (Wachtel, 2009). Contributing to its ultimate success is perhaps the fact that both the narrative within the film and the back‐story of the production possess everyman appeal as a record of pursuit of the American Dream. The film charts the journey of two Black American teenagers, Arthur Agee and William Gates, as they are taken from state school and put through the public school system on a Basketball scholarship. Their ultimate dream is to play in the National Basketball Association (NBA). As both originate from poor families the sponsorship is crucial. Even when lack of money threatens his chances, Gates, a naturally gifted player, is able to progress because of school funding. He is pushed hard in return and experiences a knee injury. This injury has an effect on his attitude and his grades decline before he becomes a teenage father. Agee by contrast appears less gifted with a crass attitude. His family cannot make the tuition payments and he is forced to attend an inner city school. Faring badly on court and academically he is affected by the break up of his parents. As the home situation improves so does his game, to the point he takes his new school team to third in the state. Gates attends a Nike summer camp and is offered a sponsorship for Marquette University, Wisconsin. Following his state success Agee is offered a place with Arkansas State University. Both places are subject to the attainment of the required grades. Gates struggles academically and takes a number of attempts to pass. Agee fares moderately better but has some results missing as St. Josephs withheld some grades due to the missed fees. By the close of the film, Gates has married the mother of his child and they all move into Marquette. He struggles academically, grows more disillusioned with basketball and quits both the team and school. Family encouragement and a scholarship from the college persuade Gates to return to play for his final year. Agee manages to make his final grades and goes to Arkansas. He has now become the father of two children. He still dreams of the NBA. This storyline follows a classical three‐act structure of exposition, obstacle, and conclusion (Bruzzi, 2006). Careful editing shapes this form and creates the rhythm of emotional highs and lows we would expect from such a text. It is very much a factual version of the classical ‘rags to riches’ tale, updated to the modern context of a sports film. The familiarity of the narrative arc, whilst not being immediately obvious, has the subtle effect of easily engaging the audience. This narrative content is familiar from countless citations in Hollywood films and other Pop‐ Cultural references from fiction and fact; how does a Black American born into the lower social classes escape the inner city ghetto? Whilst the structure may be derived from Hollywood, the actualisation is very definitely not. The shooting style appears as strict observational technique. No narration or similar devices supply exposition, information being supplied only through the camera following its subject.

26 Events occur in the frame foreground but also just out of shot or in the background, thereby creating a feeling of life happening all around, the camera selecting one specific section when it needs to. In so doing we witness the everyday events of its protagonists with sometimes uncomfortable results. A good example of this whole approach is found in a section filmed on a neighbourhood court. Agee’s father appears in the distance making a drug deal whilst Agee is shooting for a basket in the foreground, the camera moves over to the father, seemingly realising what’s occurring. Bruzzi has described the Hoop Dreams technique as a ‘journey film’ in that both the filmmakers and audience take part in a journey with their subjects over a long period of time, in this case 5 years (2006:82). Perhaps more aptly Steve James describes it as a ‘longitudinal’ film (Hughes, 2009). This is an effective moniker as it implies how we, as audience, build up such a good picture of the characters simply because the filmmakers were present for so long and by default witnessed so much happen. It is testament to the editing that this extensive raw material was distilled into such a cohesive whole. However, because it is so successful as a narrative piece, the question is raised as to what valid material was discarded because it didn’t fit in with the overall design of the film. In that way the structure could be considered to be exploiting its material for entertainment style, ‘easy to understand’ effect, so the film also uses expressive techniques familiar from Hollywood product to draw the audience in before playing on their emotions. The montage that begins the film is a good example. Playing like the opening sequence of a TV police show, the style makes the real life imagery more exciting. Fast cuts between inner city depravation and panoramic skyscrapers or graffiti riddled hoop courts juxtaposed with glamourous TV footage of NBA basketball games deliver us into the story proper but do so after having established an element of pathos. The film also makes much use of the reflexive mode in that much of the film is made up of direct‐to‐camera interviews. However, in a direct challenge to Nichols, as stated earlier the overall effect is observational. The filmmakers have removed themselves from the frame with the effect that their subjects engage in much of what could be described as ‘automatic talking’: a seemingly uninitiated engagement with the camera. Interestingly there are a few instances where this breaks down and we witness direct provocation of the subject. In one notable scene, Agee is shown in his bedroom completing a homework assignment. He is clearly not that interested in writing, preferring to talk about himself. However the filmmakers take an interest and we hear voices from behind the camera encouraging him with his work. This apparent display of empathy is an attractive trait that Steve James himself corroborates, ‘We made every effort to remove ourselves from the story…That doesn’t mean that we didn’t have relationships with our subjects or have feelings or emotions about what they were going through’ (Hughes, 2009:1). This has an element of institutional guidance. James suggests the issue

27 surrounding filmmaker intervention with their subjects is impossible to resolve but that it is a maxim of Kartemquin that they don’t produce journalistic type work. For James, the job,

‘isn’t to be fly on the wall, objectively observing someone’s life, and then, in a dispassionate way, presenting it on film. Our duty is to tell the truth as best we can, but also do it in such a way that audiences understand these people, not sit in judgement of them.’(Hughes, 2009:1)

Both at face value and with an understanding of it production history Hoop Dreams shares much with the Griersonian ideal of documentary as social tool. Derived from its observational technique it is eminently persuasive. From an initial viewing it appears to want to purvey the truth of the inner city Black American experience and uses basketball as its vehicle. It is on deeper reading that the viewer starts to question the rhetoric. As a film detailing the Black experience it has encountered criticisms that it is exploitative of the Black experience (Arthur & Cutler, 1995). In purely commercial terms, a film about basketball roughly at the same time the games’ heroes and iconography started to develop from a sport into cultural phenomenon as a result of a symbiotic relationship with Hip Hop culture (Silsby, 2003), could seem suspect as the marketing spin is ready installed. For a documentary however, this fact could also suggest social relevance and so justifies production. In ideological terms it is criticised for falling into the same traps as the system that it tries to question. Being that it is such an observational text has brought claims that it does not fully articulate its intent or social context and fails to provide any kind of analysis or judgement of the system it is observing (Arthur & Cutler, 1995). Indeed, when watching the film the overall effect is not one of surprise but rather of familiarity, as the film reinforces stereotypes by portraying yet another characterisation of what the viewer already knows and expects; the ghetto is dangerous and difficult to escape, black talent serves white interests. However watching the film 15 years after the fact could dispel many of these criticisms. The filmmakers were too quick to create a story that was recognisable and thus fell into traps of stereotyping but the films afterlife could be used to illustrate that this was unavoidable. Neither Agee nor Gates made it to NBA level, but the film and basketball did provide something of a helping hand out of the social problems. However they were not able to escape completely, both families have been shaken by street violence in the time since (Davis, 2009). With that reading, the reality of Hoop Dreams turned out to be much like it is in the movies.

28 Chapter 5. Reading Documentary: Dogtown & Z Boys

US, 2001 Running time: 90 mins Directed by Stacy Peralta

“I was on summer vacation for about 20 years…” Jay Adams (Dogtown & Z Boys, 2001)

My selection for the second case study text is a text that would seem to exhibit many of the criteria identified by Bill Nichols and distrusted by Paul Arthur. Its method uses high levels of visual technique in its representation. As such its inclusion is pivotal to this research. In a way similar to how the films subject matter, skateboarding, has evolved from a niche interest into a billion dollar industry that is still growing in popularity, (Jarvie, 2006) so Dogtown & Z Boys started life as a personal project that became an international success. Beginning as a tentative experiment, it was unexpectedly accepted by the Sundance Film Festival (Peralta, 2009). ‘We knew we hadn’t made a film about starving children in Yugoslavia, so as a result we weren’t sure if people would take the film seriously (Olson, 2001:35).’ Critically the film peaked the interest of people who didn’t necessarily know anything about skateboarding. A positive furore grew up around the film and its first festival screening sold out (Olson, 2001). As a result of such public interest the film won the Audience Award and also claimed Best Director Award, both in the Documentary category. As such the film was able to secure a distribution deal with Sony Classics (AllBusiness.com, 2009). With vital distribution in place the film went on general release, taking in good audiences and winning more festival awards internationally. Initially opening on 20 US cinemas, it made $103,355 in its first weekend. Its lifetime gross is $1,300,682 after growing to play in 70 cinemas across the US. It currently stands as the 75th most successful documentary at the US box office (Box Office Mojo.com, 2009). The film begins with a pre‐credits sequence that introduces the characters and gives the audience a taste of skateboard action. Following a brash title sequence we are introduced to a slum neighbourhood of Los Angeles, christened ‘Dogtown’ by its inhabitants. The area was once a gentrified seaside suburb but has fallen into disrepute, providing an element of excitement for a group of local surfers who test their nerves and skill, not on a sandy beach, but between broken pylons of a derelict fairground pier. When there are no waves the Dogtown surfers use skateboarding to pass time. Their exploits on land peak the interest of the local surf shop, Zephyr. In return for wearing shop t‐shirts at

29 local competitions the skaters receive specially made boards and in time receive revolutionary rubber wheels that allow them to fully bring their water‐bound trickery to land. With their revolutionary moves the new Zephyr team easily dismiss the other competitors and demonstrate that skateboarding can be done radically differently to the expectation. People cannot comprehend what they are seeing, both in terms of the physical prowess but also the ‘Z‐Boys’ unsavoury appearance. A pivotal moment comes when the group discovers local uninhabited houses with a ready supply of disused swimming pools. Once drained these provide a terrain that serves as a complete replacement for the surf. The publication of a series of photographs about this scene, many with the skaters airborne above the vertical sides of the concrete structures, creates such an excitement around the Z‐Boys team that a mythology is established. Sponsorships and endorsement deals come flooding in and soon members of the team are jet‐setting around the world competing, performing demonstrations and appearing in TV shows. With this corporate involvement comes pressure and inevitably egos start to clash. The ensemble relationship becomes challenged when three of the team become hyped as the most talented. The rest of the team start to feel left out or simply prefer the original low profile lifestyle. The ‘Z‐Boys’ legend has an effect on the rest of the world as skateboarding explodes into an international phenomenon. This brings its own challenges as new talent emerges to threaten their reputations. The myth starts to fade and the formerly close‐knit team starts to break up. One by one team members leave to pursue other interests or in certain cases cannot deal with the pressure and end up in serious trouble with drink, drugs and the Police. Dogtown and Z Boys tells this story through a straightforward ‘A to B’ structure. The narrative is a familiar rag’s to riches tale with a suggestion of how success can corrupt. Despite roots in alternative culture the exposition of the narrative renders it a very conservative text. Clichés of narrative fiction such as chapterisation create a simple story arc that is easy for the audience to follow. The film essentially follows the principles of the ‘classic’ expository text. It is a simple, retrospective history held together by an authoritative, if laconic narration. In that sense Dogtown is part of a lineage direct from Flaherty but use of reflexive elements such as archive footage, still photography, original interviews and an element of observational camera depicting characters skateboarding today, serve to confuse this definition. Indeed, the film provides an extreme deconstruction of film as a concept wherein the interviewer essentially interviews himself; Peralta is not only the writer/director but also a key member of the Z‐Boys. This material is presented in an extremely expressive fashion. Jump cuts deliver us between scenes whilst title cards introduce each chapter section. Filmic elements such as dust,

30 scratches and burnouts are then layered over the top. In one notable occasion, such reflexivity extends to the narration. Here an element of documentary that previously stood as untouchable is subverted when the narrator is heard to cough in the middle of delivery. These are of course very precise additions, the overall effect being that the viewer is made very aware that they are watching a constructed film. The reflexive elements serve to draw the viewer out of the story, which in standard film practice is counter‐productive as it risks alienating the audience. Conversely, in the world of this film it only serves to engage and even endear the audience. As Peralta states, “I wanted the construction and tone of the film to feel like the subject matter itself; raw, gritty, messy, imperfect, a bit subversive and with deliberate mistakes included in the production” (2009:4). Peralta’s overall intention was to be inclusive, with all viewers feeling welcomed into this world (Peralta, 2009). The success of the film with audiences unschooled in the world of skateboarding seems testament to the success of this intention. In that way Dogtown challenges Nichols modes by making its audience very aware that it is a film, and as such a constructed history but it maintains traditional expository mode as the strict chapterised structure keeps order whilst the narration that delivers exposition. A large amount of that exposition is supplied by the interview technique. In essence the film makes it very evident that the melding of two or more techniques facilitating the same task is now possible. The overall effect is so visceral and exciting that it borders on exhausting. In that way the film plays like an elongated trailer. In fact the stylistic test bed was the trailer, raising questions about the intent of the film. Playing like a teaser introduces notions of commerciality and in the event it was stipulation from the films financiers that asked for a trailer cut before production, but through that process the film found its eventual style (Olsen, 2001). It seems the back‐story is vital to understanding the message of the finished film. A retrospective Z‐Boys article was featured in a lifestyle magazine, which led to Hollywood clamouring for rights to the story. As something of a filmmaker himself, Peralta always had kept the story in the back of his mind as a project (Peralta, 2009). Other team members had already signed away their rights but Peralta was reticent, not wanting to be misrepresented. Resultantly he decided to make the film himself and took on the directorial role, sharing writing duties with Craig Stecyk, the journalist and photographer originally responsible for promoting the scene to the world (Olsen, 2001). The film was made by AOP Productions, a company specifically set up to produce the film. In a surprisingly creative deal, producer Agi Orsi, was able to secure $400,000 in finance from Vans, a leading clothing and shoe manufacturer. This corporate involvement was unprecedented in that the company did not ask to see a rough cut or try to offer any

31 suggestions as to how the film should be made other than requesting the trailer (Olson, 2001; Peralta, 2009). When one understands something of the culture, Vans as a brand name becomes synonymous with skateboarding as the first dedicated skateboard footwear manufacturer. Many of the people featuring in the film become evident as being involved with the company through sponsorship deals or simply as fans of the product. In the event Vans never expected the film to be successful and so were involved simply because they were interested in taking part in the presentation of a shared history (Peralta, 2009). That noted one remembers that the film begins with a corporate logo in the opening titles. In itself this is innocuous, albeit a little jarring as the viewer is unused to seeing a familiar high street logo at the foot of a film, but the fact that the film then continues to pass reference either by name or via product shots when the skaters themselves are seen to have the shoes on, the whole film becomes less documentary and more brand management. Indeed, under such close inspection, the film does adhere to the stereotype and public image of the action sports industry as promoted by other similarly popular brands. This is a fact that the director denies but is important to the discussion (Peralta, 2009). When one takes a crash course in skateboard culture rhetoric, which is easily done via websites such as Mpora.com, all areas of the film become familiar; the characters, their attitude, the editing style, the graphic identity et al. Even the narrator, Sean Penn, is linked to the story being an ex Dogtown surfer himself. In that view the film starts to feel that it may have been constructed as an easily marketed product for a readymade audience. Accordingly, notions of journalistic integrity within Dogtown become open to question. It is important to consider how much the corporate involvement actually had a bearing on the objectivity. For example, the fact that only hints are made to drugs and sexual misconduct by certain members of the team means the film presents a cleaned up family friendly version of events. The fact that the director appears in the film could suggest one reason why that might be. Similarly with corporate money involved it becomes no surprise that the film does not take a more critical approach that might have analysed how far the initial freedoms of the team were corrupted by the industry. With those criticisms acknowledged it must be noted that as a Z‐Boys member himself Peralta is best placed to get to the truth of the issue. He has lived the story as much as any of the other subjects and is perhaps able to get more from his subjects as a friend and colleague than an observer with no prior connection would have. The fact that Peralta’s wish to present the story truthfully superseded any ideas of selling his rights to the highest bidder must also be noted. Similarly, the existence of a skateboard vernacular outside of the films context demonstrates that the film is authentic in its portrayal. It has attempted to represent the events and the participants in a manner that is totally appropriate. The fact that the subjects of the film and

32 indeed the filmmakers themselves were involved in the origination of this movement further qualifies the approach. The truth as displayed by the film is that something akin to an art form can be created from humble beginnings given the right mix of location, talent, character and passion. In so doing the film serves as a recreation of an exciting period in recent history. It is a celebration of a bygone era, undeniable athleticism, comradeship and the diversity of the human spirit. In itself this is a harmless and noble intention but it should be noted that such an approach would not do any harm to the leisure clothing business.

33 Chapter 6. Conclusion

From witnessing box office receipts and the level of coverage of documentary within the mass media over the last fifteen years there is no doubt that there has been a new wave of cinematic documentary films that have achieved an enormous amount of success in comparison to their predecessors in the history of documentary filmmaking. This success could suggest something within these films is radically new. Moreover, this could lay grounds for the establishment of a new filmic genre and certain associated conventions that could govern the production and classification of such a film. Documentary is able “to champion a given perspective convincingly, but can also explore the mysteries and ambiguities of human experience”(Nichols, 2007:82). It was my belief on beginning this research that that the success of the films suggested a new means of meeting this maxim had been found, thus the crux of the films ‘newness’ was a new effectiveness; documentary could now command higher audiences purely because it had found a method that assured an authentic representation of life. The first important result of the research is that that the films do not stand alone as a new genre. Through the exploration of the historical context alongside the structural theories of Nichols and Renov, it has become evident that the films are part of a lineage that dates back to the early pioneers of the form. In so doing they do not add anything radically new to the documentary genre but rather are continuous with that tradition. Instead there are enough similarities between films that it is possible to ignore the passage of time between two film histories. As such, in contrast to my initial intention, a set of genre conventions applicable only to these new films is not possible. Instead, a contemporary text such as Dogtown and Z­Boys can stand beside Man With A Movie Camera as a similar experiment in expressive, reflexive documentary making. Both use camerawork and editing technique in their attempt to authentically recreate the feeling of a historical period, whether that is a number of years or a single day. They are also similar in that they become manifestoes for their individual ideologies; Movie Camera as an expression of Marxism in its rejection of bourgeois entertainment, Dogtown for its promotion of the liberal attitudes of an alternative capitalist culture. Of course it is possible to say that the whole canon of new cinematic documentary express a literal ‘newness’ in that lightweight cameras, digital film, off line editing techniques and so forth have evidently been used, meaning such comparisons are void. I suggest the opposite. Such a comparison is valid as both utilise technological forms that evolved contemporaneously to their respective production histories. Technological development led to the invention of lightweight equipment, which inspired the concept of observational camera. By applying the logic of my earlier comparison Nanook of the

34 North can become a companion piece to Hoop Dreams. Both films are anthropological studies and are to some degree also observational texts that use story‐telling conventions to establish narrative order. A knowledgeable critic might now state that Nanook utilised the recreation of certain events and so is not observational in the truest sense. This is countered by the fact that Hoop Dreams has also received the same criticism (Arthur & Cutler, 1995). Observational camera has directly informed the major criticism of contemporary cinematic documentary; films that exhibit methodologies outside of strict observation can never be as authentic in their portrayal of the ‘real’ of real life. This is easily dismissed by the suggestion that that all filmmaking, even that created outside of a context that creates film specifically to inform or entertain an audience, is subject to mediation of some kind. What then becomes important is the choice of the most appropriate mediation for the given context. Under such evaluation the myth of a ‘total cinema’ that provides a ”complete illusion of life…unburdened by the freedom of interpretation of the artist or the irreversibility of time” remains just that (Bazin, 2005:20‐21). The concept of documentary being constructed as a valid technique leads into the discussion of new documentary films being able to capture the audience’s imagination in such an unprecedented way as to lead to the suggestion that they are constructed specifically to attract an audience, i.e. they reconstruct events according to a preconceived idea, they utilise dramatic narrative structures, they choose big personalities to carry the film, they enhance the image with powerful soundtracks and so forth (Nichols, 2007; Arthur, 2003). Such a comparison as that between Nanook and Hoop Dreams goes someway to dismiss this by showing that narrative has always been a concern since the beginnings of film. In that way documentary has always been informed by the development of cinema as an entertainment medium. Hoop Dreams amassed an inordinate amount of raw footage from five years of observational filming. There was therefore undoubtedly a story to tell, whether this was the one told in the final film is open to debate, but the fact remains that despite following the observational dictum, 250 hours of footage had to be shaped into a form that would be understandable by an audience. In comparison, as a retrospective view of a traceable history, Dogtown already had a story and so its form followed the expository model as the most appropriate carrier for that information. That noted, the subject matter also called for a certain expressive approach and so the film became something of a visual feast. In that way the structure and technique of both films becomes justified but it must be noted that this might only be allowable because the films select their subject precisely because it is culturally relevant. In that way they suggest that a ‘new’ approach for the genre of documentary in that films can be produced directly to exploit an existing mass audience, for

35 example a public who have proven taste for factual entertainment evident from the rise of Reality TV programming and who would already be interested in a majority interest subject. Hoop Dreams could be seen to exploit the rise in popularity of basketball in the same way as Dogtown uses the popularity of skateboarding. Indeed this can be further qualified by looking outside of the case studies. To bring the debate up to date the Oscar winning Man on Wire (2008) is an exploration of an incident occurring year’s before, but through that is able to exploit the collective public memory of 9/11 by its usage of the twin towers iconography. New films are aware of the importance of marketing and promotion as key to their genesis but ultimately the survival of the form itself. Under this light, distribution companies that pick up films with culturally relevant subjects, such as Hoop Dreams and Dogtown and Z Boys, distribution agencies ensure themselves a good return of investment by playing to an established audience. The question then remains, whereas previously documentary has been made to inform a public of a subject that they may have no previous knowledge of, would these new films have been made without the existence of an audience with an already engaged interest? By referring to the case studies the reality of the process may be quite different. The makers of Hoop Dreams were not setting out to make a cinema film but rather a small‐scale public information film. Similarly Dogtown was a personal project albeit with a vested (but hands off) corporate interest. Therefore, whilst the subject matters are linked to definable rises in specific public interests, the fact that both films were unexpected successes seems further proof that they were made as an addition to public knowledge not to pander to it. That noted, the crowd‐pleasing elements noted by Nichols and Arthur (2007; 2003) do exist but rather than being a threat to authenticity the eventual forms of the films can be seen to arise from the subject matter meaning the representation becomes sincere. Such production methods then can be seen as not so much a cynical approach to the cinematic form that destroys any integrity but rather that protect the documentary genre as a whole. Despite the success of cinema‐released films the reality is that Television commissioning remains the preserve of documentary and most filmmakers will develop their craft within that medium (Bulkley, 2009). However a glance at a schedule will show that the majority of factual Television programming is of a Reality TV format. Commissioning editors seem able to tick the ‘factual box’ of their programming percentage because such programmes are cheap to make. This in turn means there is less money available for serious investigative documentary (See Appendix C). This is worrying because, as director Penny Woolcock warns, such popular factual shows ‘have nothing to do with investigating the world (McMahon, 2009).’ Therefore despite the influx of new broadcast and digital channels all demanding content, anyone wishing to make more expensive and indeed expansive high end documentary must look to other ways of producing their films (McMahon, 2009; Rushton, 2009).

36 When venerable institutions such as the BBC are struggling to finance serious documentary, financing a film yourself either via your own money or through co‐production becomes a difficult but workable solution. Once you have a film you can then attempt to get word of mouth via film festivals in the hope of selling your film to a cinema distributor. This is of course the most attractive proposition. Cinema distribution will now give you all the benefits of a dedicated marketing mix meaning your film is more likely to break the mainstream. If you are aiming your film for the cinema then the film should have elements that justify the extra expense and the usage of the format itself. Dogtown becomes a great example of cinematic documentary as its method really exploits the capabilities of the big screen to portray its athletic subject, to the point that the film arguably loses something when watched on video. As a sports film it stands as more of an entertainment piece in that it is not displaying any serious message other than perhaps a suggestion of corporate exploitation. Hoop Dreams as a primarily observational text it is less about cinematic experience and is less about athleticism but has great resonance as it raises issues about the urban black experience and the corporate exploitation of sporting talent. Both are big issues that perhaps would get lost amongst the dearth of Reality TV programming. As both case studies have been sports films, it now becomes important to acknowledge the usage of similar techniques in films with different subject matters. Good examples can be found in the work of Michael Moore. Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004) stands as the most successful documentary ever, with his other films such as Bowling for Columbine (2002) also within the top 100 listings (Box Office Mojo.com, 2009). These films utilise a high amount of expressive and reflexive techniques; well‐researched soundtracking enhances the visuals with use of familiar but out of context music, found clips from feature films or TV shows intersperse the original footage to highlight salient points and humorous live stunts bring attention to others. Moore’s ideal is that via these tactics his films should motivate audiences to become ‘active citizens’ that are interested enough to take up their own action based on the subject matter (Blackwelder, 2002). Whilst at face value this may suggest a successful new methodology, on closer inspection Moore’s films seem to be modern developments on standard genre elements. His films stand and fall on the editing binding the disparate elements. Whilst in Moore’s hands this is undoubtedly amusing and informative it is essentially informed by the montage techniques of Eisenstein, or indeed Vertov. Similarly his key gambit is his own appearance in the films. Again this appears fresh in its usual anarchic or confrontational tone but it is essentially a development of the interview technique of Cinema Verité. Although these observations emasculate the devices on one level, they do reinforce the fact that the presentation of important issues in easily understood ways is not so much a breaking down of the genre but rather a justification for their production (Collins, 2009). On cinema

37 exhibition, such films are up against entertainment product so some element of attractiveness is critical. They must always try to provide compelling content but crowd‐pleasing visual techniques and familiar narrative structures become a legitimate way of ensuring material that is potentially confusing for an audience is memorable (Peralta, 2009; Bruzzi, 2006). In so doing a film becomes more saleable and that helps ensure interesting work is made at all. This establishes the conclusion of this research; new cinematic documentary does exist as a definable form and can be called a movement in that certain distinctive elements set the films apart from the rest of documentary. Implicit in that identification is not the establishment of a new genre with its own set of genre rules but rather a continuation of a lineage as expressed in Chapter 2. New films take on language and forms that have been established throughout this heritage and manipulate or combine these modes to create a hybrid form that serves as a definition of a post‐modern approach. Implicit in the notion of a documentary film for cinema exhibition is an element of commerciality. Whilst at face value this may suggest that the message of a given film is somehow suspect, the fact can be negated. The commerciality of new cinematic documentary as expressed by form, technique and marketing is necessary for documentary to survive in today’s competitive consumer culture. Already we are seeing moves towards different modes of production and exhibition. Internet sites such as Documentary.org mean that filmmakers can now bypass the traditional modes of cinema and Television production to cater for an immediate global audience. So, like the contexts informing the production of earlier forms of documentary, today’s commercial methodology and indeed cinema exhibition itself seem likely to become key points in an retrospective history. Filmmakers of the past were striving to find a pure form of film language to express the truth of experience. As Chapter 3 illustrates, this found its apotheosis in a filmic methodology that has become ubiquitous in today’s visual culture: a surface style serving as shorthand for authenticity. Today’s filmmakers understand that truth on screen can never be a complete recreation of life in the literal, reproductive sense and so new cinematic documentary is less ideological and more pragmatic. All techniques, forms and approaches are now equal; no one method is the sole guardian of truth. The reality of the human condition is that we are emotional, expressive beings just as much as we are calm and rational, a certain kind of truth can thus be found in stylistic flourishes or cool, objective observation. Criticism for style over content is therefore void.

38 Bibliography.

AllBusiness.com (2009) ‘Vans And Sony Classics Set Distribution Deal For ‘Dogtown And Z‐ Boys’ [www] http://www.allbusiness.com/retail‐trade/miscellaneous‐retail‐ miscellaneous/4473245‐1.html (20/11/09)

Armstrong, R. (2005) Understanding Reality. London:British Film Institute

Arthur, P. (1993) ‘Jargons of Authenticity (Three American Moments)’ in M. Renov (ed.) (2003) Theorising Documentary. London: Routledge

Arthur, P & Cutler, J. (1995) ‘On the Rebound: Hoop Dreams and its discontents’ in M. Cousins & K. MacDonald (eds.) (2006) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary. 2nd edn. London: Faber & Faber

Arthur, P. (2003) ‘True Confessions, Sort of: Capturing the Friedmans and the Dilemma of Theatrical Documentary’, Cineaste, Fall, pp5

Barthes, R. (1977) Image Music Text. London: HarperCollins

Bazin, A. (2005) [1967] What is Cinema? London: University of California Press

Berger, J. (1972) Ways of Seeing. London: Penguin

Black, J. (2002) The Reality Effect: Film Culture and the Graphic Imperative. London: Routledge

Blackwelder, R. (2002) ‘Interview with Michael Moore’ [www] http://splicedwire.com/02features/mimoore.html (19/08/09)

Bowling for Columbine. Dog Eat Dog Films. dir. Michael Moore, 2002

Bowskill, D. (1988) Photography. 2nd edn. London: Made Simple Books

Box Office Mojo.com (2009) ‘Documentary Movies at the Box Office’ [www] http://boxofficemojo.com/genres/chart/?id=documentary.htm (17/11/09)

Silsby, G (2003) ‘Young, Black, Rich and Famous’ [www] http://www.usc.edu/uscnews/stories/9420.html (17/11/09)

Brecht, B. (1974) Brecht on Theatre: The Development of an Aesthetic. (Editing and translation by John Willet). 2nd edn. London: Methuen Drama

Bruzzi, S. (2006) New Documentary. 2nd edn. Abingdon: Routledge

Buckland, W. (2008) Teach Yourself: Film Studies. 3rd edn. London: Hodder Education

Bulkley, K. (2009) ‘What’s Up Doc?’, Media Guardian: Facts in Focus, 2nd November, pp1

Capturing the Friedmans. HBO Documentary. dir. Andrew Jarecki, 2003

Collins, A. (2002) ‘Interview with Michael Moore’ [www] http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2002/nov/11/usforeignpolicy.guardianinterviewsat bfisouthbank (19/08/09)

39 Cousins, M. & MacDonald, K. (eds.) (2006) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary. 2nd edn. London: Faber & Faber

Corner, J. (1996) The Art of Record: A Critical Introduction to Documentary. Manchester: Manchester University Press

Davis, S. (2009) ‘Hoop Thoughts: Why 'Hoop Dreams' still matters’ [www] http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/seth_davis/07/21/hoop.dreams/1.html (19/11/09)

Deleuze, G & Guattari, F (2004) [1980] A Thousand Plateaus. London: Continuum Books

Dogtown & Z Boys. Agi Orsi Productions. dir. Stacy Peralta, 2001

Edison Kinetoscopic Record of a Sneeze. Edison Manufacturing Company. dir. William K.L. Dickson, 1894

Fahrenheit 9/11. Dog Eat Dog Films. dir. Michael Moore, 2004

Foucault, M (1995) [1975] Discipline & Punish: The Birth of the Prison. 2nd edn. New York: Random House

Gimme Shelter. Maysles Films. dir. Albert Maysles & David Maysles, 1970

Grizzly Man. Discovery Docs. dir. Werner Herzog, 2005

Hardie, A. (2008) 'Rollercoasters and Reality: A Study of Big Screen Documentary Audiences 2002‐2007' [www] http://www.participations.org/Volume%205/Issue%201%20‐ %20special/5_01_hardy.htm (03/12/09)

Hass, R.B. (1976) Muybridge: Man in Motion. London: University of California Press

Honnef, K. (1993) Warhol. Cologne: Benedict Taschen Verlag

Hoop Dreams. Kartemquin Films. dir. Steve James, 1994

Hughes, J. (2009) ‘ Q&A: Steve James, A Tutorial on the Longitudinal’ [www] http://www.stopsmilingonline.com/story_detail.php?id=499 (19/11/09)

In the Year of the Pig. Emile de Antonio Productions. dir. Emile de Antonio, 1968

ITV.com (2009) ‘Police, Camera, Action!: Classic pics’ [www] http://www.itv.com/Entertainment/Extremereality/PoliceCameraActiongallery /default.html (23/10/09)

Jarvie, G. (2006) Sport, Culture & Society: An Introduction. Abingdon: Routledge

Kartemquin.com (2009) ‘Hoop Dreams, 1994’ [www] http://www.kartemquin.com/films/hoop‐dreams/ (10/11/09)

Keith Grant, B. & Hillier, J. (2009) 100 Documentary Films. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan

40 Klein, F & Klein, T. (2007) ‘The 50 Most Important, Overall Fascinating and Without a Doubt Bestest Documentaries Ever Made,’ Lodown, May/June, pp85‐90

Larry David: Curb Your Enthusiasm. Dir. Robert B Weide, HBO Television, transmitted 17th October 1999

Leacock, R. (1992) ‘Memoir’ in M. Cousins & K. MacDonald (eds.) (2006) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary. 2nd edn. London: Faber & Faber

Luciano‐Adams, B. (2009) ‘When Docs Get Graphic: Animation Meets Reality’, Documentary, Spring Issue, pp22‐26

Macey, D. (2000) Dictionary of Critical Theory. London: Penguin Books

Man on Wire. Discovery Films. dir. James Marsh, 2008

Man With a Movie Camera. Ukranian Photo and Cinema Administration, dir. Dziga Vertov, 1929

McLuhan, M. (1964) Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. New York: Signet Books

McMahon, K. (2009) ‘Percy makes plea to protect BBC for docs’ sake’ Broadcast, 6Th November, pp3

Nanook of the North. Revillon Frere. dir. Robert Flaherty, 1921

Nichols, B. (1991) Representing Reality. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press

Nichols, B. (1994) Blurred Boundaries. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press

Nichols, B. (2007) ‘Documentary’ in P. Cook (ed.) (2007) The Cinema Book. 3rd edn. London: British Film Institute

Night Mail. GPO Film Unit, dir. Harry Watt and Basil Wright, 1936

Olsen, S. (2001) ‘Dogtown Chronicles 2001 / Volume 2: The Zephyr Team / Stacy Peralta,’ Juice, September, pp35‐38

Paranormal Activity. Paramount Pictures, dir. Oren Peli, 2009

Paul, C. (2008) Digital Art. 2nd edn. London: Thames & Hudson

Peralta, S. (2009) ‘Re: Peralta’ [email] [email protected] (18/11/09)

Herbert, S. (2009) ‘Download PDF: January 1899, London book dealer Bernard Quaritch offers second‐hand copy, full set of 781 Animal Locomotion plates for sale, at one hundred and fivepounds. This 4‐page brochure gives information on number of full sets sold’ [www] http://www.stephenherbert.co.uk/muybridgetexts.htm (29/10/09)

Renov, M. (1993) ‘Towards a Poetics of Documentary’ in M. Renov (ed.) (1993) Theorising Documentary. London: Routledge

Renov, M. (2004) The Subject of Documentary. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press

41 Renov, M. (2007) ‘Away from Copying: The Art of Documentary Practice’ in G. Pearce & C. McLaughin (eds.) (2007) Truth or Dare: Art and Documentary. Bristol: Intellect Books

Richter, H. (1986) The Struggle for the Film: Towards a Socially Responsible Cinema. (Editing by Jurgen Römhild and translation by Ben Brewster). Scolar Press: Aldershot

Roberts, R. (2003) ‘A Matter of Fact: The Rhetoric of Documentary Style’ in National Museum of Photography, Film and Television. (2003) Fabula Exhibtion Catalogue. Bradford: National Museum of Photography, Film and Television

Rouch, J. (1969) ‘Interview with Jean Rouch’ in M. Cousins & K. MacDonald (eds.) (2006) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary. 2nd edn. London: Faber & Faber

Rudy Rich, B. (2004) ‘Mission Improbable: Cannes Festival 2004’, Sight & Sound, July, pp14‐16

Rushton, K. (2009) ‘Exploring the lighter side: Nick Fraser’, Broadcast, 6Th November, pp26‐27

Sharp, A. (2009) ‘Professional knowledge needed’ [email] [email protected] (27/11/09)

Shoah. Historia. dir. Claude Lanzmann, 1985

Super Size Me. Kathbur Pictures. dir. Morgan Spurlock, 2004

Taubin, A. (1997) ‘****’ in C. MacCabe, M. Francis, P. Wollen (eds.) (1997) Who is Andy Warhol? London / Pittsburgh: British Film Institute / Andy Warhol Museum

The Cove. Diamond Docs. dir. Louie Psihoyos, 2009

The Office: Episode 1, ‘Downsize’. Dir. Ricky Gervais & Stephen Merchant, BBC Television, transmitted 9th July 2001

Vertov, D. (1984) [1896‐1954] Kino­Eye: The Writings of Dziga Vertov (Editing by Annette Michelson and translation by Kevin O’Brien). 12th edn. Berkeley & Los Angeles: University of California Press

Voyage to the Moon. Star Film. dir. Georges Méliès, 1902

Wachtel, C. (2009) ‘Q& A: Producer & Cinematographer of Hoop Dreams’ [www] http://www.filmcrusade.com/qa‐producercinematographer‐of‐hoop‐dreams/ (19/11/09)

Winston, B. (2006) Lies, Damn Lies & Documentaries. 2nd edn. London: British Film Institute

Winston‐Dixon, W. & Audrey‐Foster, G. (2008) A Short History of Film. London: I.B. Tauris & Co Ltd

42 Exhibitions and Gallery Spaces.

Andy Warhol: Other Voices Other Rooms (7th October 2008 – 18th January 2009), Curator: Dr. Eva Meyer‐Hermann, London: Hayward Gallery

Bill Viola (Contemporary Art Permanent Collection), Curator: Matthias Mühling (Head of Department, Curator Art after 1945), Munich: Lenbachhaus

Joseph Beuys (Contemporary Art Permanent Collection), Curator: Matthias Mühling (Head of Department, Curator Art after 1945), Munich: Lenbachhaus

43 Appendix A. Questionnaire

As part of the background research for this project I questioned a number of filmmakers involved in documentary production on their work. I drew up a questionnaire of general questions on the state of documentary today but also some leading questions on their own work. The questionnaires were largely sent out via email to parties that I identified as having some interest to this study, essentially because I liked their work and it fitted my definition of what constitutes a new cinematic documentary. Sadly, due to work commitments, not all of those questioned supplied responses. Whilst not critical to this study, this is still unfortunate, as potential insights have been missed.

Amongst those targeted were:

‐ Steve James & Kartemquin Films, via Tim Horsburgh, Communications Manager ‐ Michael Moore, via Jesse Derris, Moore’s press agent at Sunshine Sachs Associates ‐ Stacy Peralta, via AOP Productions ‐ Emma Heap at Wall to Wall films, producers of Man on Wire

I also conducted two live interviews, based on the questionnaire, with UK based filmmakers. The following are key points from two very interesting discussions.

Appendix B. Interview Transcript

Excerpts of interview conducted by Jeremy Owen, with documentary filmmaker Shane O’ Sulllivan, producing feature length films for TV broadcast and DVD release.

Location: Macondo, 8‐9 Hoxton Square, London, N1 6NU Date: 6th October 2009 Duration: 46 minutes ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐ JO: So…have you heard of the five modes of documentary…or is that a little bit theoretical?

SOS: (Laughs)…what, are there five? Erm (Laughs) I just make them!

JO: How has technology affected the work that you do? It’s now possible for one person to be able to write, edit and get the film out there by themselves…

SOS: Yeh, with Final Cut Pro, I mean, I know its been around a number of years now but its just the price and the accessibility to be able to work from home, essentially, hrm to recut as you want or as you need. You know in the case of the Kennedy film I had three different running times, three different versions for three different markets so that was all possible very cheaply. And also in terms of peoples viewing habits, because they’re used to watching stuff off the Internet, well­shot video material the acquisition mode doesn’t have to be that expensive. So, you know for both the audience and for the filmmaker it’s become a lot cheaper and er, more flexible really in terms of the formats

JO: Has that had an effect on the kind of films that are made? You know, like more observational, Direct Cinema type of films?

SOS: I tell you, it’s a lot easier to make those films but its probably a lot more difficult to distribute them as well because I think the key thing about documentary is erm, the importance of commissioning versus acquisition. You know, if you haven’t been commissioned to make a film its bloody hard to get it sold! So, I took a big gamble with that Kennedy film but because it had that kind of Kennedy brand or whatever, or the

44 interest behind it the gamble paid of, but you know I wouldn’t want to briskly go and make an observational doc for one year of my life if there wasn’t any commissioning money in it, if I was just gambling on selling it, because I’ve been down that road before with drama and it just hasn’t worked and I’ve had to get a job for a few years to pay it off…(laughs)

JO: Do you make films that cater for an audience or do you do what you want?

SOS: Hmmm, you’re more conscious of that when you have funders to answer to, so in this case it’s the Irish Film Board, which give you a pretty free hand. And then, obviously German TV who I’m going to have to show a rough cut to. So I think that determines it to a certain extent. But at the end of the day you’re spending a year or two of your life so you’ve got to be passionate about the subject an ultimately you make the film for yourself I think. But obviously not to be too up your own arse that you’re not thinking about the audience!

JO: Is it possible that funders stick their oar into your work a bit too much?

SOS: Well, it depends how much money they put in, how big the budget is, you know how much their neck is on the line if it doesn’t work…So, I think it depends how much the finance is diluted. If its diluted between three or four funders, they each have less say but if you’ve one powerful funder like Hollywood or whatever, they’re gonna grab control of the budget. You know, the higher the budget goes…unless you’re Michael Moore, the more difficult it gets!

JO: They are all very different films, do they have anything in common in your opinion?

SOS: It’s so broad, see I don’t see them as being that coherent in terms of being one style or one movement. I mean it’s become, I think, the availability of documentary is so much better now. There’s probably hundreds released now instead of tens in the past…there’s so many films it’s difficult to find a coherent thread through them.

JO: Do you think their popularity is down to the way they are marketed?

SOS: The change in the thinking in terms of commissioning and in terms of acquisition has been to make documentaries with all the elements of a feature film, I think, so, stress on the great story and the great characters and the surprise in terms of the way the narrative structure…but the essential elements are still, you know, observation, interview or archive or reconstruction but I think the way your rethinking that structure in the way ‘Man On Wire’ was done just takes it to a level or draws in a cinema audience in the way it didn’t do in the past when they were just nuts and bolts and they didn’t try and dress it up, maybe that’s the difference, people are more aware of a need for the cinematic because otherwise, you know, there’s been lots of reviews where films come out in the cinema and they’re just saying this is a TV doc, what the hells it doing at the cinema…you need to make a distinction why you deserve that cinema release.

45 Appendix C. Interview Transcript

Excerpts of interview conducted by Jeremy Owen with Callum Macrae, independent Television documentary filmmaker working for the BBC, Channel 4 and Al Jazeera.

Location: Quality Café, 22 Middle Lane, Crouch End, London, N8 8PL Date: 7th October 2009 Duration: 69 minutes ‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐ JO: Are you aware of the five modes of documentary? That’s what the theoreticians call them…?

CM: Five what?

JO: …modes of documentary.

CM: Oh, modes. Never heard of them. I’ve been making them for twenty years but I’ve never heard of them.

JO: Really I wanted to know if you felt thought that any of those destroy truth or reality in anyway?

CM Funnily enough, expository or observation, in my view are most likely to distort, because they don’t present the option of saying this persons coming from there, they don’t present the option of you understanding where the filmmaker is coming from, so that you can judge what they show and what they say bout things against what know about them. As soon as you are the Voice of God, personally I’m very distrustful of God. As soon as you pretend to be neutral then you are actually misrepresenting yourself.

I mean, I think what I do is a mixture of all of these things, descriptive and informative with voice over, we do that. Observational, lots of direct representational filmed events. I’m always pretty glad if I’m making an investigative current affairs thing if see a bit of genuine interaction between people, genuine events going on which I can film then that observational aspect adds enormously. Interactive, well that’s at the heart of all current affairs. You lead by interview, you probe…

…the film I’ve just done. Very conventional, very conventional investigative, not even that investigative, conventional examination, kind of an old fashioned film, for Al Jazeera looking at what America’s doing in Africa. Erm, but actually what I like doing, it’s a gimmick, people are doing it quite a lot just now, more and more, it’ll be a fashion for about, it’ll be in fashion I predict it’ll be a fashion that’s quite exciting for about two years and then disappear again. Which is whenever you do the interview, but I do it quite enthusiastically, show the set up. So, you know, my set up shots are not just somebody working at a desk erm, they are the interviewer and the interviewee, at least in this film, walking in, walking past the lights and what have you, sitting down…

JO: Make people aware of the context, that sort of thing?

CM: …makes people understand the context, makes people understand the context in which the interview takes place, makes you realise it’s a formal interview, makes people realise its an artificial exchange in which people are involved…it separates it from reality.

JO: Do you write your programmes yourself or do you work with writers?

46 CM: Erm, I’m slightly, well, in a way I suppose because I like doing it all myself I’ve arrived at a certain place. Its dreadful what’s happened to budgets. Its dreadful what happened. It’s increasingly difficult. Some budgets now are extraordinarily low…dangerously low. Erm, the time that you have to conduct an investigation is along with much, quite correctly, much higher standards of editorial compliance and quite correctly much higher standards of respect for accuracy and all the rest of it…all of which I’m in favour of, I’m not against at all but they make making television investigations harder, not easier. They make them more time consuming and that is dangerous. Trouble is of course, its not them that stop it’s the investigations. People say ‘well, in that case we can’t afford it!’

JO: Do you think that Reality TV has got a lot to do with it? In the sense that its cheaper and it kind of ticks the factual box…

CM: Yeh, I mean, I think that…

JO: …commissioning editors need to have a certain amount of factual programming and so these programmes fulfil that…?

CM: Yeh, they will sort of do that, erm, I think that a lot of this drive to make shit populist telly is being driven by a bunch of Oxbridge graduates who think that that’s what people want. Actually, if you stuck them in an interrogation booth and put a truth machine on them you would discover that they held their audience in contempt. Having said that I have no objection to something like the X­Factor. I think the ‘X Factor’, I mean its entertaining, it’s a brilliant piece of television., I mean if you watch a live production of the ‘X Factor’, I’m sure there’s very few people who make the kind of programmes I make who would say this but I sit there just gobsmacked by the technical expertise. As a piece of technical television making, it’s brilliant. I don’t have a problem with it. My problem is that at the other end things are tighter and tighter and tighter on ‘Dispatches’ and ‘Panorama,’ the budgets are tighter and the time to make them is tighter and because there is this increasing pressure, constant pressure, to deliver audiences then you will drift towards audience grabbing programmes as a priority and the trouble is that the function of news and current affairs programmes is not to get audiences, the function of news and current affairs programmes is absolutely central to the functioning of democracy. It’s the monitor, and to make that democracy function is absolutely central, its not some kind of pious, maintaining standards kind of argument, its actually central to society. And, that function is an effective and responsible school of journalism. That is not weakened by all the constraints, the compliance and the rules, that you have to jump through in terms of secret filming and all of that, that’s all helped by that, that’s strengthened by that. That’s all good, I have no objection to any of that, erm, but if that’s not being properly funded then all that compliance becomes a waste of time…and effectively destroys that role in society that they have.

47