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Primeval-Major SPOILERS
Hollywood is an institution of lies, and with that in mind, I should not have been surprised that I was boondoggled by its wares, but I was. Primeval was marketed as a killer croc crunchfest, and that is what I expected. What I got was a crash course in African politics and a heaping, nasty dollop of Ameri-centric flag-waving.
I have long known that the U.S. is the most arrogant, self-involved nation on the planet, and I have bought into that arrogance more than once. It's my piece of dirt, after all, and if you can't love the land that nursed you, you can love none. However, the level of chest-thumping and self-congratulation on display was staggering. There wasn't an attempt to soften it. It was gaudy and unwholesome, and its presence was often clumsy.
Early in the film, a group of villagers gathers to carry the Sooper Dooper Croc Cage to the river. Dominic Purcell, Our Hero, joins in to carry the load.
"What are you doing?" asks their guide.
"I'm helping."
"Leave off. They need the money."
"I was just trying to help."(OH moves away.)
(Two villagers immediately fight over the vacated spot.)
"The more you try to help, the worse it gets," opines OH.
I interpreted that exchange as tacit endorsement of laissez faire, or the notion that the tribes and local governments should be left to decide politics and the outcome of the ongoing civil war for themselves. Given that first-world meddling in third-world affairs has never been anything but a colossal mistake, I couldn't blame them. In fact, it seemed wise,
But wait. While Our Hero, his cameraman Steve, and the croc expert are proponents of Minding Your Own business, the Eager Young Reporter With Something to Lose is more idealistic, and when Steve captures footage of a village shaman and his family being executed by henchmen of the local warlord, she declares that this is their chance to Make a Difference. When Steve, who is African-American, points out that no one gives a shit about black-on-black crime down the street, much less in Darfur, Rwanda, and Burundi, she launches into one of the most ill-conceived monologues on film. It goes on for three painful minutes, but it can be summed up thusly:
"People don't care because they have no face to the suffering. It is our job as middle-class, white reports(and token black dude, Steve) to put a face to their suffering and legitimize their need through the lens of our camera. Because only when we, noble, good, heroic Americans decry an act can it be evil in the eyes of the world."
Oh, God, I wish I were making that up, but I'm not. It was atrocious. They might as well have flashed a titlecard that read, "We now interrupt this film to bring you this special announcement." And if you're wondering where the killer croc was during all this, so was I. But we still had a gratuitous attempted rape scene to sit through before he made his star turn.
And lastly, we had Jojo, the African boy who wanted to come to America because America was so much better. And had Tic Tacs. No, I'm not making that up, either. I will admit that I liked Jojo, however, and was relieved that he got his wish.
Issue movies have their place, but if that is what a movie is, don't market it as anything else. Don't promise me croc-o-rama and then subject me to ninety minutes of pro-American, White Might Makes Right faffery before rolling out the lizard. It doesn't make me ponder the Issue of the Film; it makes me want to choke a bitch.
I have long known that the U.S. is the most arrogant, self-involved nation on the planet, and I have bought into that arrogance more than once. It's my piece of dirt, after all, and if you can't love the land that nursed you, you can love none. However, the level of chest-thumping and self-congratulation on display was staggering. There wasn't an attempt to soften it. It was gaudy and unwholesome, and its presence was often clumsy.
Early in the film, a group of villagers gathers to carry the Sooper Dooper Croc Cage to the river. Dominic Purcell, Our Hero, joins in to carry the load.
"What are you doing?" asks their guide.
"I'm helping."
"Leave off. They need the money."
"I was just trying to help."(OH moves away.)
(Two villagers immediately fight over the vacated spot.)
"The more you try to help, the worse it gets," opines OH.
I interpreted that exchange as tacit endorsement of laissez faire, or the notion that the tribes and local governments should be left to decide politics and the outcome of the ongoing civil war for themselves. Given that first-world meddling in third-world affairs has never been anything but a colossal mistake, I couldn't blame them. In fact, it seemed wise,
But wait. While Our Hero, his cameraman Steve, and the croc expert are proponents of Minding Your Own business, the Eager Young Reporter With Something to Lose is more idealistic, and when Steve captures footage of a village shaman and his family being executed by henchmen of the local warlord, she declares that this is their chance to Make a Difference. When Steve, who is African-American, points out that no one gives a shit about black-on-black crime down the street, much less in Darfur, Rwanda, and Burundi, she launches into one of the most ill-conceived monologues on film. It goes on for three painful minutes, but it can be summed up thusly:
"People don't care because they have no face to the suffering. It is our job as middle-class, white reports(and token black dude, Steve) to put a face to their suffering and legitimize their need through the lens of our camera. Because only when we, noble, good, heroic Americans decry an act can it be evil in the eyes of the world."
Oh, God, I wish I were making that up, but I'm not. It was atrocious. They might as well have flashed a titlecard that read, "We now interrupt this film to bring you this special announcement." And if you're wondering where the killer croc was during all this, so was I. But we still had a gratuitous attempted rape scene to sit through before he made his star turn.
And lastly, we had Jojo, the African boy who wanted to come to America because America was so much better. And had Tic Tacs. No, I'm not making that up, either. I will admit that I liked Jojo, however, and was relieved that he got his wish.
Issue movies have their place, but if that is what a movie is, don't market it as anything else. Don't promise me croc-o-rama and then subject me to ninety minutes of pro-American, White Might Makes Right faffery before rolling out the lizard. It doesn't make me ponder the Issue of the Film; it makes me want to choke a bitch.