FILM REVIEW: THE UNKNOWN KNOWN

Donald Rumsfeld in The Unknown Known. 

Spin Rummy

By Ed Rampell

Along with Michael Moore, Errol Morris is arguably America’s preeminent documentarian. Morris’ recent nonfiction films include 2003’s Academy Award winning, The Fog of War: Eleven Lessons from the Life of Robert S. McNamara and 2008’s Berlin International Film Festival Jury Grand Prize winner, Standard Operating Procedure. 

The former sought to explain why America went “down the same rabbit hole again” (as Morris put it during his Oscar acceptance speech) by invading Iraq through an investigation of the so-called “Mac the Knife,” who was U.S. Secretary of Defense during much of the Vietnam War. The second doc examined torture committed by Americans at Iraq’s notorious Abu Ghraib prison.

Morris’ latest documentary, The Unknown Known, is a sort of cinematic synthesis and updating of the two, as the master moviemaker focuses his “Interrotron” on Donald Rumsfeld, the man who was Defense Secretary during the Iraq War and is suspected of sharing responsibility for torturing prisoners from Abu Ghraib to Guantanamo. The Interrotron is a recording device somewhat similar to a teleprompter that enables the interview subject to appear to be making direct eye contact with the interviewer, and hence with the audience. The term, which was coined by Morris’ wife, producer Julia Sheehan, enhances the “first person” and “fly on the wall” nature of Q&As while suggesting the words “interrogation,” “interview” and -- appropriately, in Rumsfeld’s case -- “terror.”

The Unknown Known follows Rumsfeld, the Don Corleone of elite Republican politics, through his career as a four-term Congressman in the 1960s to his stints as a behind-the-scenes strings puller in the administrations of presidents Nixon and Ford, serving the latter as America’s youngest Secretary of Defense. The documentary focuses on Rumsfeld’s return to that post (by then as America’s oldest Defense Secretary) during George W. Bush’s disastrous presidency at the behest of his longtime crony, Dick Cheney. In this doc “The Unknown” becomes “Known” largely through the 20,000 memos the verbose Rumsfeld -- a psychopathic egotist way too fond of hearing the sound of his own voice -- circulated during his six years as Bush’s Pentagon hit man. Building upon what the ex-Defense Secretary dubs “snowflakes,” Morris once again goes down the rabbit hole as he follows Rumsfeld’s arrogant paper trail and creates one of the documentary’s central cinematic metaphors.

Morris is at his best when he uses filmmaking’s audio-visual language to express ideas and break the tedium of talking heads on the big screen. In 1988’s The Thin Blue Line about a Texan wrongfully convicted of murder Morris memorably, inventively enlivened the action with a slow motion crime scene reenactment featuring a flying milkshake, which provided a vital clue for the case. In The Unknown Known Morris cinematically opens up the screen with beautiful black and white time lapse cinematography of Washington, D.C. and repeatedly uses the snowflake theme to make his case against Rumsfeld and his snow job, as Rummy reads many of his memos aloud. At one point Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas” plays on the soundtrack. Another visual metaphor Morris deploys is images of the ocean, perhaps to give form to the gabby Rumsfeld’s sea of words.

Morris’ cleverest use of cinematic symbolism, however, is aural, as he overlays one track of Rumsfeld speaking over another, thereby creating the impression that the Pentagon top banana was, literally, a double talker. For instance, to sidestep the Geneva Conventions Rumsfeld refers to “detainees” instead of “prisoners of war.” Morris includes a canny clip of the 2002 press conference wherein Rumsfeld rather infamously said this about the lack of hard evidence regarding Iraq’s purported WMDs: “There are known knowns; there are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns: that is to say, there are things that we now know we don’t know. But there are also unknown unknowns – there are things we do not know we don’t know.” The title of Morris’ film is derived from this convoluted quote, which is clearly classic Orwellian “doublespeak.” (The doc’s droll, tongue in cheeky tagline is: “What you didn’t know you didn’t know.”)

At other times Morris cannily cuts from a lie Rumsfeld tells the Interrotron to footage of a previous statement by him, in order to point out self-serving contradictions. Sometimes Rummy spars with his electronic interrogator, taking issue with Morris’ use of the word “obsession” to describe his fixation on Iraq, retorting: “You like the word ‘obsession.’” At other times Rumsfeld critics may feel that the interrogator isn’t as hard hitting as he could be with the elusive subject -- Morris’ disdain for his subject has actually been far more visceral and palpable in the interviews he has given since completing his doc.

For instance, Rumsfeld’s meeting with Saddam Hussein on Dec. 20, 1983 as the Reagan regime’s special envoy to Western Asia is revisited, but Morris doesn’t press Rummy on his shaking hands and dickering with the dictator who was at the time using chemical weapons against Kurds and Iranians -- while the Bush regime used Iraq’s purported Weapons of Mass Destruction and Baghdad’s prior use of WMDs as a pretext for war. Rumsfeld, who was among the top purveyors of disinformation about Saddam’s WMDs, is predictably weasel-y when confronted about his lies regarding this matter (as he is regarding U.S. torture). When Rumsfeld ruminates upon Tariq Aziz, expressing a desire to meet with Saddam’s former Foreign Minister and Deputy Prime Minister, Morris inserts an image of written words dropping into a black pit.

Discussing Gitmo, Bagram and whether or not it was better for the U.S. to have not invaded Iraq Rumsfeld tellingly says “Time will tell,” justifying Bush administration actions by pointing out that under Pres. Obama many Bush policies are “all still there.”

Rumsfeld jokingly calls his interrogator’s final question “vicious,” as Morris inquires: “Why are you talking to me?” Rumsfeld replies: “I’ll be damned if I know.” This reviewer suspects that in addition to trying to burnish his image and put his spin on history, a main reason why Rumsfeld agreed to be interviewed for The Unknown Known is in order to sell copies of his latest book. And to once again have the pleasure of hearing the sound of his own voice, as this would-be master of the universe discussed for 33 hours his favorite topic: Donald Rumsfeld.

In any case, a better question for this man who helped lead this country into a completely unnecessary war that led to the deaths and injuries of hundreds of thousands and an incalculable loss of tax dollars contributing to the bankrupting of America is: Why are you smiling? Throughout the documentary Rumsfeld is jocular, even gleeful -- he is seen grinning in Participant Media’s picture promoting the film at the socially aware production company’s website. Inquiring minds would like to know why?

This reviewer suspects that Donald Rumsfeld is happy because he was never charged with, let alone convicted of, committing war crimes, and walks around a free, very rich man. Let’s hope Rumsfeld is charged with crimes against humanity and brought before a 21^st century Nuremberg tribunal -- and that smirk is forever wiped off of his face. The reason why Rumsfeld and his fellow war criminals are allowed to walk around free is an unknown known.

  

FILM NEWS: HOLLYWOOD PROTEST

Demonstrators and tourists in front of the fabled Chinese Theatre during the antiwar protest. Photo by Horace Coleman.

Antiwar Activists Arrested at Hollywood’s Chinese Theatre

By Ed Rampell

A March 19 antiwar demonstration in Los Angeles ended with around nine activists being taken away by L.A.P.D. officers after they occupied the courtyard of Hollywood’s world famous Chinese Theatre. Up to 25 veterans or relatives of military personnel deployed to Iraq and/or Afghanistan staged the sit-down strike on the cement blocks bearing movie stars’ footprints and inscriptions in front of the Asian-themed movie palace Sid Grauman opened in 1927. The protesters held photos of their uniformed loved ones and placed boots with name cards over the cement that had been autographed when wet by celebrities such as Clint Eastwood. The sit-down strikers also displayed a cement slab of their own engraved with boot prints and the words “Forgotten Dead,” plus a placard that read: “True Cost of War, 5,941,” referring to the number of U.S. servicemen and women killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The act of civil disobedience began around 3:15 p.m. as an antiwar march and rally protesting the eighth anniversary of the start of the Iraq War, plus the Afghan and now Libyan wars. A speaker on the truck that served as a stage commented that the sit-in participants were “Disrupting business as usual, taking a stand by sitting down.” About 40 armed L.A.P.D. officers surrounded the peaceful activists, using metal railings and bicycles to cut the courtyard off from throngs of demonstrators, tourists and superhero impersonators in front of what is now Mann’s Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Blvd.’s celebrated “Walk of Fame,” with its inset stars honoring various Tinseltown talents.

A policeman videotaped the courtyard occupiers and a policewoman kneeled to talk with participants in the action, which included Dede Miller, the sister of noted “Antiwar Mom” Cindy Sheehan (who reportedly took part in a Northern California protest) and aunt of Casey Sheehan, who was killed in Iraq and whose photo Miller held. The sit-down strikers also included members of Military Families Speak Out, a national organization of people opposed to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars who have relatives or loved ones currently in the military, or who have served in the military since the fall of 2002.

The uniformed officers conferred with an African-American man in a suit who may have been a theater employee, as well as with attorney Jim Lafferty, an organizer of the peace march and rally and head of the L.A. office of the National Lawyers Guild. This reporter, who was in the frontline of the crowd watching the unfolding drama, overheard a sergeant give orders to L.A.P.D. officers: “Take responsibility for the arrests. Two at a time.” At this point about six policemen were admitted from the sidewalk into the Chinese Theatre’s courtyard. One protester, a middle aged man who’d earlier given an angry speech at Hollywood and Vine about what the Iraq War had done to his PTSD-suffering son, was allowed to leave the courtyard, and then delivered another address from the truck/stage.

One by one, beginning with a woman, up to nine sit-down strikers rose and were peacefully led away, accompanied by an officer on either side, as supporters in the crowd applauded and cheered their comrades on, sometimes by name. One women escorted off the property wore a Code Pink T-shirt. Another woman gave the peace sign behind her back as officers accompanied her across the courtyard to an entrance way of an exit leading outside of the theatre complex. The last protester was taken away by police around 4:05 p.m. According to Lafferty, they were booked and charged with trespassing, and then released. The rest of the demonstrators left the scene of their own accord, apparently without being arrested. The black man in plainclothes returned the boots representing fallen warriors to the sidewalk. Police were still inside the theatre courtyard as late as 5:00 p.m.

Coincidentally, one of the cement blocks the sit-down strikes had occupied bore the footprints and inscription of Tom Cruise. Shortly before the civil disobedience had begun, Ron Kovic -- the paralyzed Vietnam vet portrayed by Cruise in Oliver Stone’s 1989 antiwar classic, Born On the Fourth of July – spoke onstage to thousands of rally-goers while ensconced in the wheelchair he’s been confined to since Kovic was shot 43 years ago in Indochina.

“The power of the people is unbeatable,” declared Kovic. “We see it in Tunisia, Cairo. We are not exempt in this country from sweeping change… It can happen here… We are moving into a period of great change.”

Kovic then led the crowd in an a cappella rendition of John Lennon’s "Give Peace a Chance."

Other notables at the demo included actor James Cromwell, who was Oscar-nominated for playing the farmer in 1995’s talking pig comedy, Babe, and more recently appeared in Secretariat, and cinematographer Haskell Wexler, who won two Academy Awards, including for the 1976 Woody Guthrie biopic, Bound For Glory. The Foo Fighters’ Chris Shifflet spoke and sang onstage. Marci Winograd, a perennial left-leaning Democratic congressional candidate now seeking to replace Rep. Jane Harmon, also denounced the wars.

Empty military footgear symbolizing fallen warriors were placed on spots bearing celebrity footprints. Photo by Horace Coleman.

The A.N.S.W.E.R. Coalition, which had organized the peace rallies and march, estimated the number of L.A. participants to be about 4,000 people. The event started at noon with a brief rally at the fabled intersection of Hollywood and Vine, followed by a march down Hollywood Blvd. to Sunset Blvd., past CNN’s L.A. headquarters, then back up to Hollywood Blvd., where a second and longer rally was held in front of the Chinese Theatre. Along the way, marchers encountered a handful of religious counter-demonstrators, who they outnumbered by more than 100 to one. The peace parade was led by Kovic, who frequently flashed the peace sign with his fingers. Marchers held antiwar banners and signs and chanted slogans such as: “Hey Obama We Say No, The Occupation’s Got To Go. Hey Obama, Yes You Can. Troops Out of Afghanistan.” An overhead blimp carried by demonstrators bore a banner asking: “How’s the war economy for you?” Speakers emphasized the economic costs of the wars, which they estimated to cost $700 million per day, while schools, hospitals and other essentials were being cutback.

Rally speakers denounced not only the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but also the spread of warfare to Libya; the allegedly abusive treatment of imprisoned PFC Bradley Manning, accused of giving classified information to WikiLeaks; as well as the perils of the ongoing nuclear catastrophe in Japan. There were demonstrations at other U.S. cities, such as at Washington, D.C., where more than 100 demonstrators, including Pentagon Papers leaker Daniel Ellsberg, were arrested outside the White House.