Caracas: A Tale of Two Movies

The documentary The Revolution will not be Televised and feature film Sequestro Express are cinematic illustrations of a polarized contemporary Venezuelan society. For both, the medium of film was chosen precisely because of the assumed impact it would have on public opinion. The two films have been so effective that they have gained an unexpected prestige as part of anyone’s indoctrination into learning about Venezuela or President Chavez. These filmmakers understood that they could make a political film that could accomplish a goal; whether it be to raise awareness or inspire dialogue. And it is clear that regardless of whatever criticisms exist of both films their mere existence has done just that.

The Revolution Will Not be Televised, underwritten by the BBC, Ireland’s RTE, and other European broadcasters, is a documentary done with the intention of doing a portrait of President Hugo Chavez. But after being in Miraflores, by chance during the April 2002 coup attempt the documentary’s focus changed. For this reason, The Revolution Will Not be Televised is often also referred to Chavez: Inside the Coup. The two directors, Donnacha O’Briain and Kim Bartley, both television journalists from Ireland, hold Chavez and his policies in great esteem. Bartley and O’Briain take advantage of Chavez’s charisma and magnetism, showing him at his best as the fiery orator, father figure, sentimentalist, and romantic. Bartley and O’Briain are skilled artisan’s in culminating months of footage into an adoring and revering documentary about Chavez with messianic undertones that portray him as a hero for his fearless defiance of Washington.

The title, The Revolution will not be Televised, is well deserved and refers to the private media’s critical role in the April 11 coup attempt against President Chavez. Aside from winning awards and accolades abroad it has garnered a great deal of support in Venezuela. The Revolution will not be Televised, has been broadcasted on Venezuelan TV numerous times; it is a staple among bootleggers, and was at one time handed out for free by Venezuelan embassies in the New York. The buzz and discussion around the documentary keeps increasing as new audiences far and wide continue to discover it. Though it was intended for an art house audience, it has reached the point of cult film classic in an unexpected way because it is one of the few, if not the only film available by a non-Venezuelan that is pro-Chavez.

Sequestro Express was intended as a film to initiate dialogue on the rising rate of kidnappings in Latin America as a direct result of income inequality and extreme poverty. Jonthan Jakubowicz, writer/director of Sequestro Express, made the film for Venezuelans and their love of Hollywood films. Understanding that Venezuelan films don’t fare well against American imports he tailored made the film to entertain Venezuelan audiences while plugging the political commentary. The nearly two-hour feature follows the “express kidnapping” of an upper middle class couple, Carla and Martin, by four professionals who demand a ransom of $30,000. The use of digital cameras provides an aesthetic and a texture that successfully translates the terror of an “express kidnapping.” It heightens the immediacy and intensity of the cinematic experience. Since most of the film takes place in a car, the sensation of the five characters in an enclosed space acts as a metaphor for the uncomfortable and hostile relations between the rich and poor. As the highest grossing film in the history of Venezuelan cinema, Sequestro Express struck a chord with domestic audiences. At the end of the film he leaves the audience with a message that it is up to the society as a whole to assume the task of resolving these issues, not the government.

Early support from the Chavez administration, while shooting during the national oil strike, suggested that he was on the right track and that it would be well received. [1] Members of Caracas’ law enforcement agencies and underworld provided protection when shooting in Caracas. It would have appeared that the film would get government support but after the film was released, there was a hailstorm of criticism from the Chavez administration and its supporters. Numerous scenes from the film are controversial and have led to a few law suits. The Chavez government has criticized Jakubowicz for including footage from the April 11, 2002 coup attempt that features Rafael Cabriles, a recently deceased Chavez supporter, who was wrongfully accused of shooting at Opposition protesters from Puente Llaguno. Family members of Cabriles brought a case against Jakubowicz for claims equivalent to defamation of character.[2]

The government charges that it may prosecute Jakubowicz with fomenting and glamorizing illegal drug and for the defamation of the integrity of the armed forces and local police because of two scenes in particular: a policeman accepts a bribe with cocaine; and a ranking military officer is engaged in an affair with a homosexual Colombian drug trafficker. Chavez reportedly called for laws condemning such insulting depictions of the military and law enforcement in the future.[3] If convicted he could serve between six to ten years in jail. Consequently, the film has garnered the label of being Anti-Chavista, but Jakubowicz argues that was not the intention at all because he has voted for him in the past.[4] Authorities from the National Autonomous Center of Cinematography (CNAC, www.cnac.org.ve) refused to send it to Cannes or for nomination to the Academy Awards.[5] As a result, he has developed a disdain for Chavez and the policies of his Bolivarian Revolution by declaring, “ninety percent of what he says is right and ninety percent of what he does is wrong.”[6] When interviewed earlier this year about the success of the film and Chavez’s trip to London, Jakubowicz resoponded, “As English people love him so much, I’m campaigning for Chavez to become mayor of London…you’re welcome to him.”[7]

Sequestro Express is supposed to be a terrorizing cinematic experience of an “express kidnapping” as a way to catalyze greater discussion and increase awareness, but this “express” cinematic indoctrination is inherently problematic because it employs simplistic caricatures of social class. Due to artistic liberty and personal interpretation, Sequestro Express has “inadvertently” reinforced social divisions and stereotypes. Jakubowicz presents the four kidnappers as caricatures of the lower classes and even though there is never any mention of Chavez, it is strongly implied that they are Chavistas. The four men are violent and resentful of the rich and therefore given license to be so as a manifestation of class struggle frustrations. The depiction of the kidnappers, the “other” victims of the system, is simply negative; but in truth derogatory.

The film elevates “express kidnappings” from mere criminal act to a tool of social revenge against the rich. Jakubowicz went “Hollywood” and exploited the polarization of Venezuelan society at the expense of character integrity for entertainment value. [8] What is most clear in the film is how he, Jakubowicz—an upper class Venezuelan that has been kidnapped himself—views the popular sectors of Venezuela. The film is in essence a “truth of self-experience.”[9] He claims, “...if you look at the language in which the movie is told, that is the way I perceive my reality during those 45-minutes when I was kidnapped with a gun under my nose.”[10] Originally Jakubowicz was going to make a 20-minute short based on his own 45-minute kidnapping, but when he shared the idea with producer Elizabeth Avellan, she convinced him that the subject matter was perfect for his first feature. The film is not based completely on his experience, but that of his friends who were also fellow victims of express kidnappings. While he seemingly tries to convey the couple and the kidnappers to be victims of a failing socioeconomic system he is not convincing because the “subjective involvement” and “value-judgements” on the class status characters.[11] In addition, the victimization is really one-sided in favor of Carla and Martin rather than the ensemble as a whole. The dialogue is rife with comments and resentments of the disparity between rich and poor in Caracas. For example, Trece, one of the kidnappers, castigates Carla for wearing such an expensive dress in a city like Caracas because its cost could feed several families. The kidnappers constantly reprimand Carla throughout the movie for her status and wealth, as it is demonstrated in her jewelry, attire, and choice of car because it is an affront on the depravity of the poor. Carla declares that it’s not a crime to be rich, and the kidnappers respond by saying it is in a city where half the people are poor and starving.

Jakubowicz makes a weak attempt at giving the characters depth by presenting Budu as a sentimental father who kidnaps rich kids in order to pay for his sick daughter’s medicine.[12] Carla is the daughter of a wealthy doctor and a volunteer at a free clinic and because of this somehow she is to be excluded from the label of just being rich; instead she is rich with a conscience, and our resentment towards her because she is rich should be ameliorated. In fact, she informs the kidnappers of this as a means by which to gain leverage. Instead of inciting sympathy for all of the characters as victims of a failed socioeconomic system, Jakubowicz is unable to do so beyond the dimensions of class resentment.

In retrospect one has to wonder if the overwhelming popularity of the film was also due to the casting of Venezuela’s most popular hip-hop acts as the kidnappers. There is no doubt that the film resonates with issues plaguing the society but Sequestro Express, though it claims to be political is really about entertainment. Also, in a country where 80% of the people are poor what kind of dialogue did he expect to initiate when the kidnappers, the self-appointed spokesmen of the poor, are demonized and the wealthy couple is terrorized? What kind of dialogue did he expect to incite if he was reinforcing class stereotypes and divisions? Jakubowicz believes himself to have fed the audience a cookie with the pill inside, but instead it’s a four layer cake with watered-down pepto bismol. It seems that Jakubowicz set out to make a highly political film without the intention of making a political film because he really does not understand that means. Even though he doesn’t consider himself a political filmmaker, the use of footage from the April 11 coup, street riots, and the gangs in the barrios as a means by which to contextualize the movie is inherently political; especially in the context of the political climate in Venezuela today.[13] He has failed at balancing entertainment and political value by emphasizing one over the other. Criticism that Sequestro Express is another tool of Anti-Chavista cinematic propaganda promoted by the Zionist Hollywood consipiracy has gained greater validity since the film was picked up by Miramax.[14] And seeing as how Jakubowicz is of Jewish heritage, it has only fueled the flames of suspicion.

Ironically, even though Bartley and O’Briain are a little more successful at making a political film they too have a view that falls victim to one-dimensional characterization of the social sectors. At the heart of the drama for both films is the juxtaposition rich and poor, Chavista and Oposicionista. With Caracas as the main stage, both films employ footage of the ranchitos (shantytowns) juxtaposed against a landscape of skyscrapers vividly showing the disparity in wealth setting the tone by which to contextualize modern day Venezuela for the viewer.

In The Revolution Will not be Televised, Chavistas are usually darker skinned and demonstrably of the poor sectors; the Opposition is represented by whiter-skinned and paranoid upper class Venezuelans. The only criticism of the Venezuelan government comes from the Opposition or the US and is therefore deligitimized. Even though the film was originally intended to be a portrait of Chavez, it ends up being a sympathizer’s propaganda film that villainizes the upper classes and the United States. [15] Footage of men throwing rocks at law enforcement eerily brings footage of the second Intifada in Ramallah to mind; Gruesome images of bloody bullet-worn bodies being pulled from the streets in Caracas reminds the viewer of the war in Iraq. Such iconographic imagery is done to venerate the class struggle of the Chavistas, and in turn demonize those who oppose Chavez, because in doing so the message is you are against the popular sectors. It seems that the events of April 11 had a tremendous impact on the filmmakers and they were incapable of critical analysis of the situation.

In addition, the Bartley and O’Briain project the exotica and otherness of Venezuela by beginning the documentary with footage of Venezuelans engaged in a coastal ritual of drums and dancing. It’s as if the filmmakers couldn’t resist introducing the viewer to Venezuela via hot Caribbean rhythms and sensual hip-gyrating dances. The documentary is a much needed alternative view, but it fails to do the class struggle that Chavez represents any justice because of the simplistic characterization of the social sectors; especially that of the poor because juxtaposition of imagery of Chavistas to Opposition followers makes them seem savage and unruly. Moreover, not all Chavistas are poor; nor are Venezuelans who are against Chavez of the Opposition or wealthy and white.

Reviewing Malcolm X, and understanding the impetus to make the film, Spike Lee went through great efforts to portray Malcolm’s complexity because it was meant to inspire greater understanding and interest. Malcolm X wasn’t just about touting the anti-White rhetoric typical of Black national movements or of the Nation of Islam because showing Malcolm in a one-dimensional context would have taken away from the integrity of his character and legacy. Likewise, portraying the Opposition as wealthy brats who have been hogging the oil wealth for over three decades or the Chavistas as populists with a thirst for a war of retribution doesn’t do the political problems that plague Venezuela any justice. The Revolution will not be Televised as a result comes off as a leftist battle cry against the evils of America, neo-liberalism, and neo-imperialism and takes away from the credibility of the concrete political problems. Granted, the first time viewing the film it is easy to assume a Chavista stance because of the obvious slant; the film is relatively accurate and not comprehensive.[16] And even though the film is significant because it shows an alternative view that combats the mass media’s portrayal of Chavez it could’ve been just as successful by providing a complex and more comprehensive analysis of the Venezuelan society and politics.

Unfortunately, Jakubowicz and Bartley and O’Briain rely to heavily on overly simplified representations of class in Venezuela to convey their point. It is unfortunate that with the lack of fair media coverage of Venezuela that the films people encounter most only perpetuate an overly simplified representation of Venezuelan society and politics. Both films have intentions to bring awareness to the problem of economic and social divisions in Venezuela, but in order to do so they reinforce the problem rather than address the root causes of it by relying on simplistic characterizations of Venezuela’s wealthy and popular sectors. It is not enough to consider these works based on what the objective of the project was and if it was successful because the complexity of the issue of social divisions is too over simplified and would therefore fail if measured up against a more demanding list of expectations.

This is not to say that the two films are invalid cinematic statements because of their faults, but compared to other successful models it challenges their legitimacy. For example, Sequestro Express has often been compared to City of God because of the socioeconomic issues that are raised in both films. But City of God is much more successful at balancing entertainment and political point of view because of the complexity of the characters and the humanity of the characters.[17] This is why Missing, as a political film, is very successful. Based on a true story, the message of the film is innate not overt, and the experiences of the characters speak for themselves. The humanity of the characters portrayed is self-evident. Instead, the characters in Sequestro Express and The Revolution Will not be Televised are tools manipulated to promote a political agenda, rather than address the actual politics.

What is unsure is whether Jakubowicz, Bartley and O’Briain predicted that their films would become the cinematic banner for the two respective political camps in Venezuela: Sequestro Express for the cause of the Opposition and The Revolution Will not be Televised for the Chavistas. Chavistas consider Sequestro Express to be an outright criticism of the Chavez administration and The Revolution Will not be Televised has become the unofficial cinematic anthem of the same administration. Their label as political films now is not based on what their original intentions were but rather in how they have been adopted.

Reviewing Sequestro Express and The Revolution Will not be Televised has encouraged me to explore the characteristics of what a political film is. Too broad a definition obviously dilutes the significance of the genre, but then again any film content could be interpreted as political. What is inherently problematic is the medium itself because it leaves space for artistic license; but what elevates a film from the traps of artistic license and political impetus is integrity. Films such as Malcolm X and Missing are the perfect combination of accuracy and complexity, art and politics. Instead of falling victim to bias and political platform, these films are inspiring and successful as political films because of their inherent integrity and universal message. Sequestro Express and The Revolution Will not be Televised fall short of meeting the standards of political films as set by the examples of Malcolm X and Missing, but are significant nonetheless because of the political tools they have consequently become.

Bibliography

Berry, David. “Comment: The political and moral message of Sequestro Express,” Fifth Estate

online. (http://www.fifth-estate-online.co.uk/comment/messageofsequestroexpress.html)

Crowdus, Gary and Dan Georgakas (editors), The Cineaste Interviews 2: Filmmakers on the Art

and Politics of the Cinema (Chicago: Lake View Press, 20002).

Forrest, Brian. “Interview with Documentary Filmmakers Kim Bartley and Donnacha O’Brian,”

Venezuela Analysis.com, November 6, 2003, (http://www.venezuelanalysis.com/articles.php?artno=1050)

Gunson, Phil. “Director’s Cut” The Columbia Journalism Review, May/June 2004, P. 59-60.

Johnston, Trevor. “Sequestro Express-Jonathan Jakubowicz,” TimeOut London, June 9, 2006.

(http://www.timeout.com/film/news/1202.html)

King, Michael. “Captive Audience: How a homegrown kidnapping thriller emerged as the most

popular film in Venezuela – and angered the Chavez administration in the process,” The Austin Chronicle, October 21, 2005. (http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/story?oid=oid%3A301932)

O’Keefe, Alice. “The Chavista War on Cinema,” The New Statesman, May 29, 2006. P. 28.

Sawtell, Jeff. “Film Review: Sequestro Express,” PoliticalAffairs.net, September 6, 2006.

(http://www.politicalaffairs.net/article/view/3599/1/190)

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[1] O’Keefe, Alice. “The Chavista War on Cinema,” The New Statesman, May 29, 2006. P. 28.

[2] Johnston, Trevor. “Sequestro Express-Jonathan Jakubowicz,” TimeOut London, June 9, 2006.

(http://www.timeout.com/film/news/1202.html).

[3] O’Keefe, Alice. “The Chavista War on Cinema,” The New Statesman, May 29, 2006. P. 28.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

[6] King, Michael. “Captive Audience: How a homegrown kidnapping thriller emerged as the most

popular film in Venezuela – and angered the Chavez administration in the process,” The Austin Chronicle, October 21, 2005. (http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/story?oid=oid%3A301932)

[7] O’Keefe, Alice. “The Chavista War on Cinema,” The New Statesman, May 29, 2006. P. 28./ (hurryupharry.bloghouse.net)

[8] Johnston, Trevor. “Sequestro Express-Jonathan Jakubowicz,” TimeOut London, June 9, 2006.

(http://www.timeout.com/film/news/1202.html).

[9] Berry, David. “Comment: The political and moral message of Sequestro Express,” Fifth Estate

online. (http://www.fifth-estate-online.co.uk/comment/messageofsequestroexpress.html).

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

[12] Sawtell, Jeff. “Film Review: Sequestro Express,” PoliticalAffairs.net, September 6, 2006.

(http://www.politicalaffairs.net/article/view/3599/1/190).

[13] King, Michael. “Captive Audience: How a homegrown kidnapping thriller emerged as the most popular film in Venezuela – and angered the Chavez administration in the process,” The Austin Chronicle, October 21, 2005.

(http://www.austinchronicle.com/gyrobase/Issue/story?oid=oid%3A301932)

[14] Berry, David. “Comment: The political and moral message of Sequestro Express,” Fifth Estate

online. (http://www.fifth-estate-online.co.uk/comment/messageofsequestroexpress.html).

[15] Forrest, Brian. “Interview with Documentary Filmmakers Kim Bartley and Donnacha O’Brian,”

Venezuela Analysis.com, November 6, 2003, (http://www.venezuelanalysis.com/articles.php?artno=1050).

[16] Gunson, Phil. “Director’s Cut” The Columbia Journalism Review, May/June 2004, P. 59-60.

[17] Sawtell, Jeff. “Film Review: Sequestro Express,” PoliticalAffairs.net, September 6, 2006.

(http://www.politicalaffairs.net/article/view/3599/1/190)