Tribeca Dispatch: Thursday, May 1

I swear, April 29 is coming!

I had to return to the real world today, i.e., my regular job, and I had two documentaries to see after work. I was back to feeling the wall. The Q&A at the first documentary left me outraged, but not for the reasons you might think.

First movie seen: Baghdad High
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Four classmates (Kurd, Christian, Shiite, and Sunni/Shiite) in Baghdad are given cameras to document their last year in high school, resulting in a rare firsthand view of what it’s like growing up where sectarian violence rages right outside the classroom window.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: For the third year in a row, I spotted Michael Moore at a general public screening of a documentary. (He always sits in the back.) It’s nice to see he goes to movies with the normal folk.

Baghdad Review: I’m not really sure how to review Baghdad High.

The documentary tells the tale of four Iraqi high-school seniors: a Kurd, a Christian, a Shiite and a Sunni/Shiite. Ali, Anmar, Hayder and Mohammad filmed their lives for a year, starting in August 2006. As such, the quality of the filmmaking isn’t particularly polished, and the movie is overly reliant on explanatory text to fill storyline gaps, but the heart behind it is undeniable. The pervasive American music culture proves especially charming: One student studies the Koran … while listening to Tupac. Other than wondering why the students weren’t listed as co-directors, I was OK with what I saw on screen.

Afterward, I found out how much was missing. Directors Laura Winter and Ivan O’Mahoney weren’t in Iraq at all during the filming; Winter doesn’t even speak Arabic. We never learn that it was the principal who chose the students, basing his selections on safety issues as much as anything else. He didn’t want anyone talking to war lords, nor could the students be seen with Western journalists; otherwise, their lives would be in jeopardy. Winter said she sometimes sent emails asking the boys to explore certain issues, such as a day in the life of their principal or why Mohammad’s relatives moved in with him. What we didn’t hear much of: the boys’ feelings about the coalition presence. We heard from one of the parents, but that doesn’t have the same impact. In the post-script of Baghdad High, we discover that Ali and his family fled Iraq. We don’t find out that they’re in America. Seeing boxes being packed, hearing Ali’s thoughts about the U.S. - missed emotional moments.

Critic Lisa gives Baghdad High a C, knocking it down a full letter by what was left out.


Second movie seen: The Zen of Bobby V
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Former New York Mets manager Bobby Valentine took his baseball expertise to Japan in 2004. This film follows a season in the life of an American who has become an admired icon-and a primary reason that baseball remains Japan's most popular sport.
Viewing partners: none

Bobby Review: Hundreds cheer his arrival in an airport. Middle-aged women scramble to photograph him with their cellphones. Parents have their children touch this man of greatness. His beer and burgers sell like crazy.

Brad Pitt? Michael Jordan?

Nope. It’s Bobby Valentine, former manager of the Texas Rangers and New York Mets, and now the manager of the Chiba Lotte Marines.

Andrew Jenks, Jonah Quickmire Pettigrew and Andrew Muscato spent the 2007 season in Japan, following Valentine and exploring the phenomenon of baseball there in the ESPN documentary The Zen of Bobby V.

One person at the Q&A said the movie felt like a “Bobby love fest.” That’s an accurate assessment: In addition to the aforementioned giddiness, we watch Valentine embrace Japan. He learns Japanese, relishes trying raw fish, explores many gardens and rushes to a drum show. However, the directors stop short of really showing Valentine during the bad times. We hear from several people how losing gets him down, but we don’t see it, and the Marines’ summer struggles are reduced to a fast-moving montage. As with Baghdad High, the filmmakers rely too much on text. We read that one player gets hits often and that people suspect this happens because he’s black, yet we don’t hear from him.

We do glean random, funny thoughts from other players, though. Jose Ortiz’s account of the nature of Japanese dining is especially amusing and also illustrates the country’s orderly structure. The directing trio capture the Marines’ spirit with images from their promotions - ballroom with Bobby is one - and snippets from their crazy fan base. Those people, with their umbrellas and nonstop chanting, reduce Red Sox Nation to a quiet village hamlet.

The Zen of Bobby V is fun and pleasant enough, best suited for its eventual TV home.