The Nasty Girl (1990)

“The roadblocks of a stubborn and guilty bureaucracy.”

Director Michael Verhoeven’s film The Nasty Girl is the story of Sonja (Lena Stolze). Raised in the small Bavarian town of Pfilzing, she attends convent school as her mother doesn’t want Sonja to mix with “anti-social kids and socialists.” Apart from the odd flash of naughty behaviour, Sonja has a very conventional upbringing. She’s the epitome of a good girl. Considered a “teacher’s pet” she’s obedient, tidy, quiet, and studious, so it comes as no surprise when she enters an essay competition and wins first place. With her model essay Freedom in Europe Sonja wins a holiday in France. Later, Sonja is encouraged to enter a second essay competition, and her next topic is My Hometown During the Third Reich. Sonja’s mother admonishes her to concentrate on “positive things,” and considering exactly what Sonja uncovers, well this little hint points to the conclusion that many people in Pfilzing had a damn good idea exactly what happened in town during WWII.

Sonja begins to research her paper with the idea that her focus will be how her town and the Catholic Church resisted the Nazis. Sonja is one of those characters who’s always been petted and accepted by those in power (she’s even given the examination questions in advance by the convent school nuns). She’s such a favourite in town that she fails to realize just how cosseted a position she has, and she has no idea what it’s like to be a subversive or a radical. Brought up to conform and obey, it’s a sheer accident that she stumbles on the town’s secret Nazi past. Motivated by naïve curiosity and a desire to discover the truth, Sonja refuses to give up her quest for information. She’s pressured not just to give up her research but also to return to her role of being a good little wife and housekeeper. Her stubborn streak carries her forward through a corrupt bureaucracy, ostracism, violence and death threats.

Over time, Sonja discovers that the Nazis executed a Catholic Priest–he’s a very acceptable icon for the town to remember, but when Sonja attempts to discover why Father Schulte ended up in a concentration camp right outside town her problems begin. In Sonja’s naivety she fails to recognize that she’s offended people in power who may be harmed by her investigation. It takes her some time to understand exactly why she keeps running into brick walls as she digs into the past. And this is one of the film’s ironies–Sonya thinks she’s discovering a story that no one knows, but the reality is that all the old-timers know exactly what she’s going to dig up if she keeps looking.

The Nasty Girl is based on a true story about what happened to Anya Rosmus as she researched her town’s past. The fact that old Nazis still run Pfilzing made me think of the Red Army Faction’s argument that many old Nazis were alive and well and still running the country in the 60s.

The film’s delightful, light ironic style certainly works for most of the film, but at times style undermines the message. Several scenes are surreal, and parts of the film appear in a docudrama format. The film’s powerful ending makes a tremendous statement regarding radicalism and society–sometimes to maintain integrity one must eschew awards, nominations and medals. The film shows that these trinkets are just another way to hijack and recuperate fringe-dwellers and subversives in their “fearless struggle for the truth.” There’s nothing like awarding someone a cheesy medal in order to maintain the political and social status quo; It’s a way of bringing you back into the fold. Makes me think of U-2’s Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire “Sir” Bono. Considering the British Empire’s history with Ireland, you’d think he would have told them to shove it. Oh well.

The Nasty Girl is in German with English subtitles

Pedalphiles (2000)

“You have to have a fairly exacting standard in order to be taken seriously” (SCAB collective member Michael).

The documentary Pedalphiles is the background story of SCAB (Skids Creating Apocalyptic Bicycles). SCAB is (was) a Wisconsin-based collective of bicycle enthusiasts whose mission was to promote the use of the bicycle as a “sustainable human-powered” and “viable alternative” to the automobile. Using scavenged bicycle parts, SCAB members created outlandish, ingenious bicycles and then infiltrated mainstream events, such as “Bike to Work Week” (AKA Middle Class Cop-Out Week). But apart from infiltration–with its goal of getting people to look at alternatives to fancy $2,000 bikes, SCAB just had a good time riding the streets of Wisconsin, developing new designs and passing out the word.

The film interviews SCAB collective members, and through these interviews the film explores the formation and growth of the group. Each of its members added their own unique talents, and this is clearly what made it work. Amanda explains, for example, how her welding skills helped the bike-making process. Collective members discuss and display some of their fantastic designs–the Preying Mantis, the Ghetto Way, the Pedal-Phile, the Huffy Nightmare, and…how could I forget…The Anal Intruder.

DVD extras include: Bike photos, and a Where Are They Now segment. This follow-up segment, filmed in 2005, 5-6 years after the original footage, is an essential part of the story. While SCAB is now a thing of the past, in individual interviews collective members all note the significance of SCAB in their lives. In spite of the fact that the collective members have taken different paths, some still maintain relationships, and some are still into bikes.

This energetic, and ultimately optimistic film from Brian Standing takes a fascinating look at how a group of young people with a range of talents and very little money put their beliefs into Direct Action. “Circumventing the whole buy-sale system” SCAB led by example. I am not much of a bike rider, I’ll admit, but after watching the film (which I thoroughly enjoyed, by the way) I started thinking that perhaps I need to break out my bike and start applying some pedal power in my life. A fair number of us realise that our current oil-dependent lifestyle will shortly come a cropper, and we all need to be prepared for that eventuality plus minimize our consumption for the health of the planet.

After the film concluded, I found myself mulling over the lives of these six very talented, creative people. I liked their decision to DO something about their beliefs, and I liked their positive approach. SCAB may well be a thing of the past, but I prefer to think of it as a beginning–not only for SCAB collective members, but also as a beginning for inspiration for those watching the film. Unfortunately, some of us are not lucky enough to live in a community with like-minded people, and so for us loners, a collective is not possible. And that makes the challenge for Direct Action a little different.

To quote collective member Tyson:
“I don’t know if I can even hope for a Utopian world at this point, just something better. And I think that’s just whatever we do in the time that we have.”

Pedalphiles is available at: www.prolefeedstudios.com

Against All Odds: Animal Liberation 1972-1986 by J.J. Roberts

“If vivisection was against the interests of the ruling class they would abolish it very quickly, either by the use of their legislative powers, or more quickly by decisions made at Board meetings. Commercial forms of animal abuse such as vivisection and factory framing are in the financial interests of the ruling class, and bloodsports are an essential part of their social fabric. The parliamentary campaign is in fact asking us to petition the ruling class to act against their own best interest.”

At around 118 pages, Against All Odds: Animal Liberation 1972-1986 by J.J. Roberts traces the Animal Liberation movement during its crucial formative years. Focusing on Britain, the book (which takes the form of a thick booklet) is an overview of the landmark events that took place during this period. Additionally, the book examines tactics that worked, tactics that failed and argues that by 1984, the animal liberation movement “enjoyed widespread public support.” And of course, with this statement, we have to ask where did all that public support go? Was it lost or hijacked and can it be reclaimed?

The author argues that vivisection has always created “people who have taken direct action against it,” but that in 1972, some of those in the Hunt Saboteurs Association “decided to embark on a campaign of direct action against vehicles and other property used by the hunt.” This led to the formation of The Band of Mercy–a group that led raids on fox hunting kennels. But by 1973, the Band of Mercy expanded their activities to include other forms of animal abuse. The arrest and imprisonment of activists caused the Band of Mercy to cease, but by 1976 “ALF was born with the remnants of the Band of Mercy.” The author states that these early ALF years did not at first involve economic sabotage or arson.

The 80s saw the formation and growth of a number of regional Animal Liberation Leagues (NALL, SEALL). Tracing the formation, activities and eventual destruction of the various regional Animal Liberation Leagues, the book covers a fascinating history of direct action. What’s so fascinating here is the realization that NALL (Northern Animal Liberation League) policy was to “involve as many people as possible in campaigns to expose the animal abuse to the public.” And this, the author argues allowed NALL to “portray themselves as public guardians.” Describing NALL tactics, the book points out that “the raid itself was a means to an end, not an end in itself.” With minimum damage to gain entry, NALL raided numerous laboratories to gather evidence of animal abuse. It’s incredible in today’s political climate to imagine the sort of 400 person strong, nationally coordinated raid that NALL conducted. However, the author argues that failure to “maintain an active core of experienced members” led the NALL to strategic failures and their eventual demise. And one of NALL’s biggest mistakes was to fail to organize a defence campaign for those arrested and facing lengthy political trials.

While NALL had some great successes (evidenced by the widespread approval of NALL amongst the British public and the sheer numbers of those participating in the raids), the book argues that by 1983, the NALL’s policy to seize and expose evidence was “already dated theory.” In one SEALL (South East Animal Liberation League) raid for example, “none of the research papers ever surfaced to be used against” the laboratories in question–thus making the tactics of raid, seize and expose meaningless. In fact, it seems that the police adapted over the years to ‘deal’ with the raids, and this brought down arrests and lengthy conspiracy trials against raid participants. In some cases, those just protesting outside of the laboratories were summarily rounded up and arrested and lumped together in these conspiracy trials along with those who were found in the labs. As a result, massive arrests led to the SEALL’s “decision to move away from the chaos of mass action.”

For anyone interested in the subjects of Animal Liberation, this modest appearing booklet makes for a fascinating read. Charting the major actions against some of the most notorious labs, the ugly prolonged trials of activists (including the Trial of the Wickham 19), we see exactly how Animal Liberation morphed into new configurations–shaped by necessity, the legal system and the political climate. In 1984, the year in which the “Animal Liberation movement enjoyed widespread public support” activists “staged mass raids” at six animal research labs. As a result, more than 80 people were charged, and by 1986, 24 people–sentenced to a cumulative 41 years went to prison for their roles in an Eastern Animal Liberation League “anti-vivisection raid on the Unilever’s …research laboratory at Bedford.” The disastrous Unilever raid and its repercussions “may be viewed as a turning point where the animal liberation movement temporarily abandoned the attempt to build a mass movement and turned towards the militancy of the few.”

Also covered are the subjects of militancy, the impotency of parliamentary action, and decentralized structure vs. centralized organization. The author discusses some of the tactics used by various groups: including property destruction and Contamination. While the author notes that Contamination as a tactic can be vastly successful in terms of economic sabotage, the cost when considering antagonizing public opinion is far too high. Indeed the booklet cites the example of Sinn Fein’s use of violence and argues that although Sinn Fein warned police of planted incendiary devices, these warnings were not always passed on to the public. Hence, according to the author, for anyone even considering the use of violent or potentially life-threatening tactics (arson, explosive devices, contamination, etc), it’s simply not intelligent to put the police in the equation if you are counting on warning away the public because you may very well create a highly damaging PR event in which certain things are expendable.

Possibly the single most astonishing fact here is that Animal Liberation groups gathered conclusive evidence that pet/companion dogs and cats were stolen and fed into laboratories for experiments. Makes you wonder about all those dogs and cats that supposedly vanish from the planet every year, doesn’t it? Especially since vivisection labs are not exactly open to public scrutiny….

Available at: www.akpress.org

Stander (2003)

“He’s one man–we’re the damn government.”

Set in apartheid South Africa in the 1970s, the film Stander from director Bronwen Hughes, based on a true story, takes a few liberties with the facts and presents a glamorized, but still riveting and fascinating portrait of a police captain who became the country’s most notorious bank robber. File this film under the heading truth-is-stranger-than-fiction.

The film begins in Johannesburg with Andre Stander (Thomas Jane) and a fellow off-duty officer careening off to Stander’s wedding. Stander, the son of Major-General Frans Stander (Marius Weyers), works in the robbery and homicide division, but he’s called for riot squad duty when black students gather to protest against the use of Afrikaan in schools.

Stander’s participation in the violent riot duty turns out to be a turning point in his life. Disillusioned, and unable to cope with his guilt and a troubled conscience, he starts to fall apart. Eventually he turns away from the gung-ho camaraderie of the police force and secretly enters a life of crime. This occurs almost accidentally when he realizes that “a white man can get away with anything today while the police are busy watching the blacks.” Robbing banks becomes an outlet of sorts for Stander, and he commits a series of bold, daylight robberies. Juggling his bank robbing with his life as a police detective, at times he evens investigates the robberies he committed.

The film follows Stander’s many robberies, his arrest, and his time in prison. Here he befriends Lee McCall (Dexter Fletcher) and Allan Heyl (David O’Hara). The three men eventually escape and form the Stander Gang–sometimes robbing four banks in one day. A master of disguise, Stander, the most notorious bank robber in South African history, was a dangerous adversary because as a former police officer, he knew exactly how the system worked. One of the film’s unstated ideas is that Stander was well-trained by the system, and then he was in a perfect position to understand and undermine the law when he turned against it. But on the other hand did Stander really turn against the system because he was revolted by his actions or as a disconnected police officer in a corrupt, violent system, did he just dive off on another tangent and go solo?

Stander became a cult hero–partly due to the nature of his daring robberies, but the film indicates that there’s more afoot than just Stander’s brazen style. His life as a bank robber is seen as his method of rejecting authority, and many South Africans identified with Stander’s blatant contempt for the system that he was once a part of. At one point, Stander argues that “you become them or you live at odds with everyone around you.” Robbing banks, to Stander, is the method he chooses of rejecting the society that made him into a killer.

While Lee McCall notes that some of the general public express admiration for the gang (”we’re obviously not the only ones who like to see the tables turned”), Stander’s estranged wife Bekkie (Deborah Kara Unger) doesn’t relate at all to Stander’s life of crime. Bekkie, however, does understand some of Stander’s rage against the system when she acknowledges that everyone at some point wants to “blow this place to smithereens from time to time” but that they “find other ways” of coping.

 

The film does an excellent job of recreating the ‘feel’ of the 70s, and there are some extremely powerful scenes. The film begins with an aerial view of the suburbs of Johannesburg–the affluent white suburbs with a mosaic of impressive pools. These scenes are in stark contrast to the shantytown shown in the depiction of the 1976 Tembisa riots. The film’s very best scene recreates the explosive tension as blacks and riot police square off amidst the shocking poverty of the makeshift huts. As I watched this very powerful scene, I asked myself how the whites living there ever imagined that apartheid could continue. And of course, I answered my own question…increased violence–even as the riot scene exploded right before my eyes.