The Balkan Yankee

Last night I went to see a special screening which featured segments of Michael Palin’s (of Monty Python fame) new documentary series on Eastern Europe. After the screening was a Q&Q segment with Jon-Paul Davidson, the film’s director.

The screening, which took place at the Lumiere Theater at NDK, got a lot of laughs from the audience (me included) which featured scenes of Palin drinking home-distilled Rakiya, dancing with pistol wielding gypsies in Plovdiv and hiking to the Seven Rila Lakes at Summer Solstice to see the “White Brotherhood” spiritual gathering. (Note: Not related to White Power or the Aryan Brotherhood). I had a lot of fun watching it despite numerous “technical difficulties” the theater staff encountered.

The Q&A was a desperately disappointing affair, and I felt sorry for J.P. Davidson as the audience showed the depths of their own insecurities and self consciousness about their country and history.

“Why did you show Bulgarian’s drinking Rakiya? The world will think we are all alcoholics!”

“Why did you include such a long segment about gypsies? The world will think we’re a backwards country full of gypsies!”

“Why didn’t you go to (insert someplace here) instead, so everyone could see how great that is?”

 and stirring the most controversy…

“Why did your film give Macedonia credit in the development of the cyrillic alphabet?  That was BULGARIA!!!! ARGHH!!”

Davidson politely listened to question after question like these and answered all in roughly the same way, highly paraphrased: “Every country we went to had complaints about the way we portrayed them, but we were not out to create a fully representational or balanced documentary… we wanted to choose a few things that we as outsiders found interesting and focus on those with the limited time we had. I think you will in fact find that this film inspires more tourists to travel to Bulgaria and discover it for themselves which can’t be a bad thing.”

It may be because I grew up in Southern California in a culture that thrives and churns on constant exaltation and self-devouring criticism, building up and tearing down its own image on a regular basis, but I had hoped for an audience with a greater sense of humor and cultural pride, and not one that came across as ashamed an fearful at what had been swept out from under the rug.

Another gem from Adam Curtis in an interview with Errol Morris in 2005:

I believe that historical analogies are always wrong. This a long discussion, but, to me, the most dangerous thing about Chamberlain’s capitulation to Hitler at Munich is not the fact that Munich happened and it led to further Nazi aggression and so on and so forth, but that the example of Munich has been used to support thousands upon thousands of bad policies and inappropriate decisions. LeMay called JFK’s recommendation for a “quarantine” (that is, a blockade) in the Cuban Missile Crisis “worse than Munich”. Would nuclear war have been a better alternative? But nuclear war was averted by Kennedy’s policies. And thirty years later the Soviet Union collapsed without the need for nuclear war. Was LeMay right? I don’t think so. But again, the example of Munich was invoked to justify the invasion of Iraq. Appeasing Saddam, appeasing Hitler. The use of the Munich analogy does not clarify, it obscures. History is like the weather. Themes do repeat themselves, but never in the same way. And analogies became rhetorical flourishes and sad ex post facto justifications rather than explanations. In the end, they explain nothing.

Writer and Producer Adam Curtis in an interview with Errol Morris in 2005:

I’m very suspicious of this idea of a balanced version of history, All history is a construction – often by the powerful. What I do is construct an imaginative interpretation of history to make people look again at what they think they know. I like to ask people, “Have you thought of this?” Like zooming up in a helicopter and looking at the ground, looking at the world in a new way. Because I think that so much of this interpretation of events is a deadening repetition agreed upon by certain people, a sort of collectivity of news reports. And often it’s completely wrong. But somehow, they all agree on it. People criticized my film by saying things like, “Why aren’t you balanced? What aren’t you putting in the other views?” And my response was, “What if the other view is wrong?” That’s the real problem of the balanced view - what’s called ‘perceived wisdom.’ What if perceived wisdom’s wrong? What if – when you go and look at the evidence for sleeper cells in America – there doesn’t appear to be anything there? You know, that’s the difficult area. And so it becomes up to you to judge whether to go against perceived wisdom or not.

This is just one thought captured in a long and interesting discussion. Both of these film-makers are fascinating people. I love Curtis’s philosophy of looking at History as the unintended consequences of ideas. That’s an idea which resonates powerfully in The Century of the Self as well as The Power of Nightmares which is the subject of this interview.