Roger Ebert's Journal

Sometimes things are more black and white than they seem and the answers more obvious and less interesting than we might wish. And more depressing. Is there really a good, valuable reason why some people bully others? Perhaps the most disconcerting answer is no... they don't give the matter much thought, because maybe if they did, they would decide it wasn't such a good idea after all. They do it impulsively, acting on base feelings, with no more reflection than a mean kid throwing a cat into a burning trash can. The kid might think, "I wonder what will happen if I do this" but that's about it. This same sort of mean-spiritedness and mindless 'thrill-seeking' extends to setting off fireworks indoors, making fun of handicapped people, fraternity hazing ceremonies, and in my opinion includes what happened at Abu Ghraib. That the people involved are at a loss explaining what they did hardly surprises me. Do you expect a schoolyard bully to have a good, valid reason for beating up a kid smaller than him?

I agree with you about the nature of man, and may even go further in saying that human life itself is the choice that we fashion it to be, though this was implied in your post anyway. I have to briefly praise you Ebert for my own personal journey of artistic appreciation, as when I was a middle schooler I first saw Oliver Stone's "Natural Born Killers," was provoked but puzzled by it, and casually put in a search for it on the internet and came upon the Roger Ebert review, amazed that he rewarded this insane film four stars. I thus read the review, and from that point on have opened my mind to the fact that the film medium can far extend entertainment value, a notion that has long been well documented, [best in my opinion by Roger] but sadly lost on the emerging generations including mine.
Errol Morris faced a challenge in documenting a tragedy among many tragedies of a decade defined by moral darkness and elusive veracity. Historians will no doubt fumble for ages sorting out just how such a black time could come to be, and right after the breathless, prosperous heights of the 1990s that proceeded it, a decade itself that already feels like a parallel universe. I myself have been laboring over a no-budget local 'fiction-documentary' (elements of documentary with a scripted, fractured storyline) concerning our troublesome present, and the satire I've been aiming for has proven just as depressing as it is riotously humorous.
Anyone else tired of these existing extremes?

Mr. Ebert,

You make an excellent point concerning Morris' ability (or is desire a more appropriate word?) to listen, to allow those positioned in front of his camera to simply speak their piece. Sometimes, this results in his subjects departing from the topic at hand (perhaps the most interesting example is in a Morris film I know you admire, 'Gates of Heaven', about pet cemeteries. When interviewing the Harberts brothers, each one goes off on their own particular tangent, the elder displaying his professional awards, the younger talking about his music. In truth, neither one spent much time talking about the family pet cemetery), yet Morris realizes that even such departures can offer up fascinating insights.

But, of course, there's the other side of the coin as well. While it may be true that the comments presented are not Morris', nor may they even reflect his own opinions, his name is still on the film. He is its creator. He had the power to edit, to cut out, to shorten or lengthen each sequence as he saw fit. As such, he must accept some responsibility for what appears on-screen (not to imply that his comments listed above dismiss such responsibility. mind you).

Yet, if he has remained consistent to his philosophy, to his way of handling the people whose opinions he sought, then I applaud him. Whether I ultimately agree with Standard Operating Procedure or not (I have yet to see the film) is besides the point. If SOP is truly an Errol Morris film, I'm confident it will be a fascinating look at a very controversial topic. Even if we don't agree with what the film has to say, let's not hold him to task for remaining consistent.

It's not just that we want to dismiss bad apples: we want to pretend they don't exist, or at least that they don't exist if they seem otherwise pleasant. The old BS canard "he was a good boy but he fell into a bad group" describes the denial we all feel when somebody we can relate to is revealed to be a bad person. But there is no such thing as a nebulous, off-stage "bad group" that makes good people go bad: all bad groups are made up of equally bad persons, and every single person associated with a bad group is equally bad.

We want our evil one-sided, obvious, and superficially as different from us as possible. We don't want to accept that we could have something, or many things, in common with a bad person.

Mr. Ebert,

Your review of "The Son" is probably my favorite piece of your writing -- it is seemingly effortless and deeply moving, much like the film itself. I've revisited it at least a half a dozen times.

My thoughts here are that the people involved were attempting to solve a particular problem which those in power have declined to deal.

In advertising they teach you that campaigns against drink driving which emphasise death don't work as well as campaigns which emphasise paraplegia, because young people don't fear death so much as immobilisation. I think the same principle is at work here. If the enemy does not fear death or torture and sees them merely as aspects of martyrdom, then no amount of conventional violence will deter them. The next logical step is to involve humiliation, an attempt to play on their own fears (homosexuality, emasculation) in order to try and reach something they fear more than pain or death.

The alternative to deterrence is reason and incentive, tactics which those in power are unwilling to countenance (as evidenced by Bush's speech to the Knesset) and which have their own drawbacks. Until the authorities come up with a solution to this problem, then I think those on the lower rungs will continue to try and fashion their own, horrifying solutions. I expect little except "business as usual" attempts to kill and capture the enemy where they reveal themselves, under the delusion of military superiority. Each side will win some, lose some, and continue killing innocent people caught in the cross-fire.

I call them "the enemy" but in truth they are only my enemy and yours because they define themselves to be so. There was never any real conflict here, nothing real to fight over, just a rather profound misunderstanding.

Morris makes a great film. No question. SOP was a terrific addition to the canon, right up there with Mr. Death and all the rest.

Before we jump off into the Schrodinger's Cat problem of the documentarian, though, there's this question:

Why is it in a Morris film I feel like everyone's gotten a fair shake, and in other documentaries I feel like I'm watching a peephole camera in a ladies' changing room?

The people in Morris' pictures don't come across very well. I think if they could choose to pass on their interviews after they saw the dailies, they might. But when I see something like the Rabbits Pets or Meat sequence from Roger & Me, I get the notion that this moment was stolen away from the subject. That's very different from what Morris gets.

Hey, it's a cruel world. You want good stuff, you gotta go after it. But I just can't put my finger on what it is that Morris does that gives that feeling of evenness to his work. I mean, look at those people in SOP. No one had perfect teeth. (They had good teeth, but not movie-star smiles.) They were well-lit, but not to an extreme. Even the people in Vernon, FL, don't come off as caricatures, but as characters. There were no tricks employed to do that, no sets, nothing at all, really.

I don't know what it is that Morris does, but I see it on the screen. Is it just that Morris is--and I hate to say this--a nice guy, and people make an effort to be as good as they think they should be in his presence, and still tell the truth?

I fully understand where you're coming from, Mr. Ebert. Let me put it this way: How harshly would you insult a person? You take a group of people, and let's say they start gossiping about a co-worker they don't like. People, who are good people otherwise, will feel attracted to the gossip, listening in or embellishing it, because it makes them feel superior. This can escalate into the most cruel, hateful things said about that co-worker by the group....yet, most of the people gossiping about said worker would never think such hate, or say it to their face. There's also usually one or two who are evil people, who instigate most of the gossip, and the others feed on it to a varying degree.

Something like this happened at Abu Ghraib, that's the answer to the mystery. You had a few evil people, who became the alpha males, and they created an enviroment where everyone else either joined in, or wanted to do more and more harm, to "impress" the alpha males. On their own, these people would never do that to their fellow man. It also somewhat explains how a spouse of an abusive parent will see them abusing a child, and phase it out of their mind, or join in and try to "one-up" their spouse. Or why gang members, who "used to be such good kids," will commit crimes and hurt people.

Of course, in every case, they can choose NOT to join in, not to add to gossip, not to engage in torture of prisoners, not to help the gang commit their crimes. That's why we need more documentaries on BRAVERY, and COURAGE, and HONOR, RESPECT, and RESPONSIBILITY. Let's see some documentaries about ordinary people who stood up to gang members, or people who stood up against evil in all its forms. (I'm not going to chastise you, Mr. Ebert, for not reviewing these, because they're almost never made!)

I believe that all questions and answers concerning things like Abu Graib horror were told by Pasolini years ago in "Salo."

Just a note that I tried to find L'Enfant, and discovered it is Le Fils Mr. Ebert is referring to in his blog.

Ebert responds: It's "L'Enfant" on IMDb. Also often called "le Fils. " Released in the U.S. as "The Son."

Mr. Ebert:

Not to nit pick, but rather so your readers are not confused, "L'Enfant" (The Child) was the Dardenne's follow up to "Le Fils" (The Son). The former being about a couple who live off her benefits and whatever he can steal, until the opportunity for money arrives in a proposal to sell their baby to a family who cannot have one. The latter being the film you explained above in your post.

Love the journal and best wishes!

Ebert responds: You are correct! I checked at IMDb too quickly, and was mislead by their translation of "L'Enfant" as "The Child," Should have scrolled down further to see "Le Fils" ("The Son"). "L'Enfant" is another heart-breaking film, very hard to take.

One aspect of this puzzles me: Presumably American soldiers are taught about things like the Geneva Convention and the Nuremberg war crimes trials. With a little foresight it should have been clear to these individuals that their actions could damage their reputation, careers and social standing amongst the human community - and to what possible advantage? Surely they must have realised that they would one day be back in the real world where such actions are unforgivable?

I am approximately Lyndie England's age and wonder if perhaps its a flaw peculiar to youth to be reckless to such concerns; From my observations of the Baby Boomers it seems they are ever watchful of such things and jealously guard their own standing. Perhaps this could have been avoided with a greater sense of self protection. I can easily countenance the thought that England was a victim in the abuse; the harm done to her by this is immeasurable.

As a historian one of my great frustrations is the assumption that we can know the intentions of others--long dead--when we remain a problem to be solve. . . a mystery to our own selves.