Tagged: Goodbye Solo
Plastic bag
One of the nice discoveries in my role as manager and chief film-picker for the Cape Breton Island Film Series has been the movies of Ramin Bahrani, the Iranian-American director of dramas like Man Push Cart, Chop Shop, and Goodbye Solo. Bahrani portrays the extraordinary lives of ordinary people in a naturalistic style that is almost documentary in character. We were the only film series in Canada to show Chop Shop; by the time Goodbye Solo came out a year later, Bahrani’s movies were de rigueur on the indie circuit.
Bahrani grew up in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Roger Ebert calls him “the new great American director.” Charlie Rose, the US Public Broadcasting Systems wonderful interviewer, talks with him here. Last September, the Venice Film Festival debuted an 18-minute Bahrani short that is an anthropomorphic account of the life of a plastic bag. In a whimsical touch, Bahrani tapped Werner Herzog, bad boy director of Grizzly Man and Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, to voice the part of the bag.
Last week, Bahrani released Plastic Bag on YouTube, which gives me the chance to show it to you:
An infelicitous phrase – updated
The Harper Government’s ambivalent attitude toward immigration deserves more thoughtful consideration than I have time for this morning, but in light of yesterday’s release of a new guide for prospective Canadian Immigrants, a manual high in testosterone and shy on environmental values, I flag it here for future discussion.
An immigrant himself, Contrarian left yesterday’s Film Series benefit for L’Arche Cape Breton* thinking about the Senegalese immigrant cab driver at the centre of the featured movie — an ebullient character named Solo, brilliantly played by Souleymane Sy Savane, himself an immigrant to the US from the Ivory Coast. Solo is one of those characters you instinctively root for, a guy who makes you proud to live in a country that welcomes immigrants of all stripes.
As I left the theatre with these thoughts running through my head, I flipped on the radio to hear Immigration Minister Jason Kenney hectoring would-be immigrants about their responsibilities:
When you become a citizen, you’re not just getting a travel document into Hotel Canada. You are inheriting a set of responsibilities, of obligations as a citizen.
A travel document into Hotel Canada. Perhaps it was merely an off-note in an otherwise skillful presentation, but the minister’s infelicitous phrase was striking for its portrayal of the immigrant as other, while its vehemence conveyed deep conviction. Comments welcome.
[Updated] Dennis Falvy demurs:
If the concept of ‘other’ is bothersome, how does one approach the definition of being Canadian? Unless ‘Canadian’ means ‘citizen of the world’, there will have to be a distinction between being a Canadian, and not being a Canadian, a distinction that leads ineluctably to being the one or the ‘other’.
And even if one favours the concept of being a citizen of the world, the seats of power, and sources of human abuse, in the world do not accept this idea yet, and there is no apparatus to support or enforce it. I for one would prefer that my citizenship distinguished me from some of the rest of the world, and being Canadian works just fine (at least until Stephen Harper succeeds in bamboozling voters into allowing him to destroy the country).
As for testosterone playing a large part in the new citizenship manual, I presume you are referring to the part played by the military in Canadian history. The thousands of women who have served and sacrificed for Canada, especially those now serving, would no doubt find fault with your choice of words, particularly this close to Remembrance Day. Now that was an infelicitous phrase.
Miles Tompkins draws a connection between Kenney’s musings and his government’s treatment of Maher Arar:
“When you become a citizen, you’re not just getting a travel document into Hotel Canada. You are inheriting a set of responsibilities, of obligations as a citizen.” Yes, and when you are a Minister of the Crown, you also have a set of responsibilities under international treaties which are the law of the land. There is a bit of an obligation there.
(*) Ironically, L’Arche Cape Breton relies heavily on temporary foreign workers, young people who spend a year or two in the community before returning to their native lands. Their work features long hours, few days off, intense personal care of men and women with significant developmental disabilities, and the extraordinary personal growth that comes from that experience in the L’Arche context. In some cases, the work these young people do fulfills the national service obligations of their home country.
