Atanarjuat: The Fast Runner (2001) ****

Atanarjuat (The Fast Runner) and his brother Amaqjuaq (The Strong One)

In a way, it was what I expected. And then it wasn't. I expected Inuit customs, traditions, people. However, I didn't expect it to be shot on video. I didn't expect it to blur the lines between documentary and fiction. Based on an old Inuit legend, the story told is undoubtedly fiction. But it also has strong ethnographic characteristics; much of their way of life and daily activities are not shown in tight montages. Instead, they are shown in full as if to preserve their culture on film for future generations to model themselves after. It can be a challenging watch but also undeniably rewarding.

The legend, as told in the film, basically has Atanarjuat take a girl named Atuat - who was promised to another man named Oki. It conjures bad blood and so a bitter rivalry begins that extends past these two - plaguing their families in the process. In the age of Hollywood, a story like this is old hat. But it just goes to prove that movies aren't necessarily about what it is but how it is. And how it's done in The Fast Runner has a maturity to it one doesn't find in typical Hollywood outputs. It understands what the loss of life means for those who live on. It understands that we can easily forgive - but not easily forget. Endings aren't exactly happy here. But they are reasonable.

Now, upon experiencing this, I couldn't help but be constantly reminded of Nanook of the North, the landmark "documentary" by Robert Flaherty. It also charted the Inuit people and their way of life just as it is done here. It has been a long time since I've seen that film and am curious to see the differences between the two. But the chief difference here is that The Fast Runner is shot and told from an Inuit perspective. Much, if not all, of the production was headed by its own people and the spirit shows. It doesn't feel artificial. It feels genuine. Regardless of whether it was released in 2001 or 1901, I imagine the film would've accurately portrayed the Inuit people. In all respects, Atanarjuat is timeless.

Through Navajo Eyes (1972)

Sol Worth and John Adair, the authors of this book, headed out to Pine Springs and sought permission to carry out their experiment. The answer they received is curious yet enlightening in its necessity: What can film do for our people? It's a question I've often asked myself. Why make films? What are they in the grand scheme of things? I've often felt art only exists to differentiate humans from the animals. Perhaps that is what film is. It is merely confirmation.

That is why the question is surprising. The Navajo ask not what can it do for us spiritually, but on a more modest scale, what can it do for us economically. Arguably, film will not do much for them if anything unless they have aspirations to become successful filmmakers in Hollywood (read: none). The question is valid. It could be justified for the Navajo to say this whole filmmaking business is child's play, nonsense to pass the time. And that is not the Navajo. The contents of this book will have you discover that they are very productive people and this shows in the films the selected group goes on to make.

The experiment is simply to observe how the Navajo students make their films, what their films are about, and their reasons for making them - all with little to no interference on part of the experienced "white" filmmakers. This is all much easier said than done as they occasionally feel the need to teach them "proper" ways to frame shots, tell them to shoot this or that, and edit in ways pleasing to "white" audiences. But they realize differences are prevalent because the Navajo see the world in ways far different from ours. It had nothing to do with a lack of technique or experience and this is related thoroughly in practice films made. Upon showing their films to a Navajo audience, the one film that most resembled the artistry of white film practices was considered confusing, and yes, "white" whereas the others made immediate connections to the people. They would nod in approval.

What they've come to discover is that filmmaking surfaces the ways in which we see the world and what we value. Sure, this isn't anything new but this experiment makes this apparent. In fact, they relate other experiments done among white graduate students as well as the black ghetto. The black kids and the Navajo gave primary importance to accuracy and proper representation while the white students sought to recreate or manipulate the images through artistry. It easily lends to implications of manifest destiny, colonization, and the want to shape things according to our needs instead of living harmoniously with nature.

Perhaps most valuable of all is how quickly the Navajo were able to learn how to shoot and edit film. Their progress was truly unprecedented yet amazingly normal and not worthy of attention to the students. Motion is natural to the Navajo and they saw nothing to be praised. It brings up a good point: the motion picture is something natural to everyone. It is the art most readily capable of recreating life as it is. Where other arts take grand efforts to reproduce these qualities (and still fall short), the camera does this effortlessly. It is not surprising that film has become such a widespread, popular medium and entertainment. It works much like the way we experience the world and the ways in which we dream. Like fleeting moments, we only remember small visual passages in haze. But film, in that respect, is invaluable: it renders concrete our thoughts and memories.