What Current Documentaries Do and Can't Do

The vitality of documentary films is as indisputable as their predominantly left-of-center views. Given the rightward drift of mainstream American politics since Bill Clinton not only eviscerated the Democratic Party's traditional base in working- and middle-class issues of health, education, and, most dramatically of all, welfare but also failed to foster a moral base comparable to the family values and corporate virtues of the Republican Right, this may be somewhat surprising. A right-leaning documentary surge may well be in the wings, but it is also clear that there is far less onus for such a movement to manifest itself in a political climate characterized by vividly conservative mainstream news and entertainment media. The Right has its voices and its outlets to such an extent that a right-leaning bias has gradually become a norm.

But are the numerous, often terrific documentaries of recent years on the Iraq War, the Bush White House, the corporation as a psychopathic entity, the environment as a unfolding disaster, the global economy as a sign of the end of the nation-state and the rise of a transnational corporate hegemony, the terrors of a so-called war on terrorism, and the horrors of ethnic conflict and genocidal cleansings as powerful an antidote as one might think? I often wonder for two reasons. The first is simply that many documentaries, including most of the ones that receive theatrical play, are, indeed, genuinely documentaries and not news reports, journalistic accounts, or even exposés. As such they proclaim as alive and well the voices of dissent. They speak in imaginative, compelling ways. This is also a limitation. Although those who understand the form understand that it is not bound by a journalistic ethics or by illusions of objectivity, this has also served as an Achilles heel. Critics simply cite the lack of objectivity or scruples as evidence that a given film is bad journalism and therefore unworthy of our attention. "Fair and balanced" reporting does not include Morgan Spurlock, Eugene Jarecki, or Michael Moore. These are figures who captivate and provoke, but unless their provocations are taken up, defended, and carried further against the blue tide that would drown them in their own bathwater, they may lack the impact I would wish for them.

This leads to my second concern: these films, without exception, do not arise from and do not speak to any form of concerted, organized movement. They often embody the impassioned views of individuals dedicated to principles of social justice, environmental protectionism, civil liberties, and human rights, but these voices and views, however widely shared, lack a common political base. The Democratic Party is no more and most likely is less potent as an organizing force for significant change than it was in the Johnson/Nixon/Carter/Reagan years. The Green Party has yet to make significant inroads on the national stage. Unions are more complicit with corporate policies than ever. The women's, civil rights, gay and lesbian, and other identity politics movements have not proven capable of mobilizing the type of broad coalition of progressive voices needed to counter policies that have bankrupted the federal government, eviscerated its role as regulator of commerce and protector of individuals, invented a new version of war that cannot be won, imperiled the environment, and occupied a foreign nation only to propel it into civil war. Be it The Control Room or Iraq in Fragments, Fahrenheit 9/11 or An Inconvenient Truth, the films remain eerily disconnected from the American populace except in their capacity as a (significant) theatrical experience. It is not the primary task of such films to build a Left movement in America; that responsibility lies elsewhere. Until that responsibility is taken up, however, the triumph of the political documentary will remain a great achievement well worth celebrating but not the political victory that will turn the tide of recent events from their catastrophic direction.