B


Movies reviewed here...
Being There.
Birdy.
The Breakfast Club 1.
The Breakfast Club 2.
Broadcast News.
Brubaker.


Being There

Reviewed by Ernest G. Rigney, Jr., College of Charleston

This film, based on Jerry Kosinski's novella of the same title, is an excellent pedagogical complement for a number of courses such as introductory sociology, social psychology, and mass media and human behavior. The various topics that can be introduced, illustrated, and discussed through the use of this film include television as an agent of socialization, the social construction of reality, the self, role taking and W. I. Thomas's definition of the situation.

Being There depicts the curious adventures of Chance, an illiterate gardener, who for the past 30 years has lived as a virtual isolate within his employer's residence in Washington, DC. What little Chance knows of the outside world has been acquired through watching television. In fact, every room in his employer's residence, including the attic and the garage, is equipped with a television set. Although Chance does not truly understand what he sees on television, he can (with varying degrees of success) mimic certain actions such as shaking hands, smiling, and generally comporting himself in a pleasing manner.

A pivotal event in the film is the death of Chance's employer and the subsequent expulsion of Chance from his circumscribed yet protective environment. Chance confronts the streets armed with one suitcase and a television remote control accessory. When taunted by a gang of young people, he aims and presets the remote control device in a desperate attempt to "change the channel."

During his aimless wanderings around Washington, Chance is accidentally hit by a limousine in which Eve Rand is riding. Eve's husband, Ben is an influential, wealthy, elderly, terminally ill industrialist. Eve insists that Chance accompany her to the Rands' mansion, where Ben's personal physician can examine and treat Chance's injury. After being examined and treated, Chance is invited to convalesce there.

During his convalescence Chance meets an impressive array of important people whom he never would have met otherwise. Everyone is deeply affected by Chance's apparent intelligence, honesty, and sage advice. No one seems to understand that he is merely an illiterate gardener. For example, the President of the United States seeks advice from Ben Rand concerning economic policy. Chance's views are solicited; he offers an innocuous comment about gardening. The President uses the comment and attributes it to Chance during a nationally televised speech. Chance is instantly perceived by all as the newest and brightest political pundit on the scene. Even during his appearance on a talk show, his prosaic gardening comments are interpreted as subtle and profound metaphors.

At the end of the film Ben Rand has died. Ostensibly, Chance will marry Eve and acquire Ben's considerable fortune. As a final ironic twist, he is being seriously considered as a presidential nominee for a major political party.

It is important to note that Chance is not Machiavellian. That is, he does not deliberately misrepresent himself in order to gain power or manipulate others. Chance is always honest when dealing with others because he is a slow-witted innocent. It is others who attribute highly desirable characteristics to him. They have not uncovered any unique qualities possessed by Chance: instead, they are merely responding to their attributions.

The pedagogical utility of Being There can be illustrated best by listing several questions used on examinations or as prods for class discussions. In social psychology and introductory sociology classes the following questions have been effective:

1) Concerning symbolic communication. Karp and Yoels remark that "things, as such, have no inherent meaning. Whatever meanings they have derive from responses individuals make to them." Use this assertion on organizing an essay discussing Chance's relationships with the other characters appearing in Being There;

2) According to W. I. Thomas, "If [people] define situations as real, they are real in their consequences." Of what importance is Thomas's proposition in understanding the various interpersonal relationships involving Chance?

A final question has been used as an examination question in a mass media and human behavior class:

3) In his review of Being There, Roger Ebert contends that the film is neither an indictment of television nor an indictment of society. Instead, Ebert admires the film "for having the guts to take [a] weird conceit and push it to its ultimate comic conclusion." Now, based on what you have learned from lectures, readings, and actually viewing the film, is Mr. Ebert convincing or unconvincing in his assessment of Being There? Justify your answer.

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Birdy

Reviewed by Daren Di Nicola, Pepperdine University

In reviewing the movie Birdy, one might be tempted to discuss solely the highly symbolic nature of the film. From Christ-like images to garbage dumps mirroring life in a Philadelphia slum, this highly charged film directed by Alan Parker is filled with hidden meaning. However, what seems to be even more fascinating (and important) is the way in which the film deals with the psychiatric condition known as Post traumatic Stress Disorder. The disorder has received a great deal of attention within the past two decades. Psychiatrists and physicians alike hold that many of the problems Viet Nam veterans experience in trying to assimilate back into mainstream life can be traced to their having some form of the disorder. Further, the high incidence of Viet Nam veterans affected, as compared to those who have served in other wars, is explained by many to have been the result of the adverse outcome of that war which, in turn, led to a very different sort of homecoming for these veterans. There was no "hero's welcome" for these men and therefore many were forced to face feelings of hopelessness, loss, guilt, and defeat in isolation.

Birdy, is admittedly an anti-war film, but it is much more besides. It is also a film about male-bonding, adolescence, parent-child relations, and escapism. The story begins in a hospital corridor where we see one of the two main characters, Al (Nicholas Cage), being wheeled out of an operating room. Al's face is almost completely bandaged, the results of having a bomb detonate in his face. Al is soon told that he is to report to the psychiatric wing of a military hospital where his boyhood friend Birdy (Matthew Modine) is being held. Upon arriving, he finds Birdy in a catatonic state (unable or unwilling to respond to outside stimulus) squatting bird-like in a corner of his cell. Al questions the doctor in charge of Birdy as to his present condition, but the doctor is unable to offer any explanation. All that is known is that Birdy was in heavy combat and then missing in action for a month before he was found. Al then asks why he has been called to see Birdy and the doctor replies that he thinks it might be good therapy. "For who? Him or me?" Al asks; to which the doctor responds, "Both."

Most of the rest of the film takes place as a series of flashbacks, at one time attributed to Birdy, at another, to Al. The flashbacks trace the boy's history together from the day they met to the to the day they were separated by Al's draft into the army. What we find are two somewhat typical teenagers. Al is a school wrestler, fighter, and somewhat of a ladies man. Birdy, on the other hand, is quiet, intelligent, introverted, and obsessed with the notion of flight. Birdy's penchant for flight naturally manifests itself in his fascination for birds. In fact, it is birds (the catching of pigeons to sell as "homers") which brings the two boys together. As the movie progresses however, we find that Birdy's fascination with birds and flight passes beyond mere curiosity into realm of mysticism as he begins to believe that he really can fly. Al meanwhile, begins to feel estranged from Birdy as he is unable to comprehend the other's obsession with flight. Back at the military hospital however, Al is unwilling to share Birdy's history of affection for birds and flight with the doctor who continually asks him if there was anything peculiar about Birdy's adolescence. Distrust of the sympathetic military doctor/psychiatrist is evident throughout. To Al, he is the manifestation of the army itself; the army which has disfigured his face and sent his best friend into complete withdrawal from reality. His hostility toward the doctor is evident in a very early exchange as the doctor questions Al about Birdy:

"I don't understand what brought him to this. You got any ideas?"

Al: "Well sir, he got drafted."

Doctor: "All wars have their casualties. The army takes care of their own."

Al: "They certainly took care of me, doctor."

Al is clearly suffering as a result of his experiences in the war. He exhibits all the symptoms associated with the Post traumatic Stress Disorder. The disorder is triggered by "an event that is outside the range of usual human experience and would be markedly distressing to almost anyone." Certainly, Al's experience of seeing his fellow soldiers blown to pieces while he himself smells "the burning of his own face" after the explosion falls into the category of being "outside the range of usual human experience." It is interesting to point out that as Al continues to visit Birdy, Al seems to be the one who is getting worse while Birdy seems to be making some minor progress. We know that Al is getting worse by several key events. For one, Al's walk is becoming more and more of a limp. He seems almost to be mirroring his walk through the mud flats in Nam. This is accompanied by vivid recollections of the experience itself. According to his symptoms listed under the Post traumatic Stress Disorder, his behavior is typical of one possessing the disorder. These symptoms are listed as follows:

"physiologic reactivity upon exposure to events that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the traumatic event (e.g., his walk)"

"distressing recollections of the events"

"recurrent distressing dreams of the event (which he begins having soon after seeing Birdy again)"

"sudden acting or feeling as if the traumatic event were recurring (including a sense of reliving the experience, illusions, hallucinations, and dissociation [flashback] episodes)."

Other symptoms Al exhibits throughout the film are associated with "symptoms of increased arousal." For example, during his second visit with Birdy, frustrated because Birdy is not responding to his presence, Al suddenly screams "C'mon Birdy, talk to me!" Later, during another visit, Al loses all control as he attempts to leave Birdy's cell. He begins shaking and pounding on the door yelling to the attendant repeatedly, "Let me out!" Later still, Al loses control while speaking to the doctor and forcefully demands to know why they're pumping Birdy full of drugs. One might be tempted to say that these reactions are understandable considering the cirstances, however, the film clearly shows that reactions occur out of context as if triggered by something deeper than the current situation. That this is the case is proved by Al's repeated apologies to the doctor for his outbursts.

Birdy's case is somewhat different given his current condition. We learn from the flashbacks that Birdy had always exhibited some form of mental instability (which may have been inherited from his "offbeat" mother) be it ever so mild. Early on, we find Birdy unafraid of a potentially deadly situation. For instance, in one scene he hangs on to the gutter of a four- story structure after slipping out of Al's grasp (while bagging pigeons). Al is understandably distraught, yet Birdy smiles and tells him not to look so "serious." Birdy then lets go, falling (flying?) several stories into a sand mound. Luckily, he only suffers a broken leg, but Al cries (while holding Birdy in his arms), "Don't ever try that again; I thought I lost you." Birdy simply smiles. Later, we see Birdy's obsession with flying and birds reach a climax as he crawls naked into his bird cage (under his bed) and hallucinates that he is in flight. Al finds him in this awkward situation the next morning assuming that Birdy simply "scored" that night after the prom. When Birdy begins to explain that it had nothing to do with his date but rather that he "actually" flew, Al finally loses patience with Birdy and walks out on him, stating that he can no longer understand him.

While Al's symptoms seem to stem from the war, Birdy's seem to have their roots in his earlier childhood experiences. The war was responsible for catapulting him into his catatonic state, however, his obsession with birds and flight had provided the foundation for his current mental illness. Whereas Al's violent flashbacks are almost exclusively connected to the war, Birdy has recollections of more domestic "violent" situations. For example, we find Birdy in one scene being given a bath by a nurse when suddenly he begins thrashing about in a state of utter fear and anxiety. Through his accompanying hallucination we see the reason for his fear; an alley cat which made its way to his room while he was cleaning his cherished canary's cage had grabbed hold of the canary in his mouth and had almost eaten her. This "traumatic event" proved to be just one of the reasons behind Birdy's current exhibition of symptoms relating to the Post traumatic Stress Disorder. The main event, of course, is related to his experience in the war. Through one of his final flashbacks, we see him flying in the back of a medical helicopter with a badly wounded and agonizing soldier. Suddenly, the helicopter is hit by an enemy rocket causing the craft to crash and burn in the Vietnamese jungle. As Birdy lies there wounded, he looks around and finds that all the others on the craft have been killed. Isolated, Birdy looks up and sees a tropical bird moments before a full-scale napalm bombing is carried out on the jungle surrounding him. Thousands of birds fill the sky as the deafening noise of the bombers and explosions coincide with the terrifying screams of Birdy. The catastrophic event proves too much for Birdy's mind and accordingly it shuts down all further cognizance of the outside world.

In the final scene, Al resolves not to leave Birdy's side and return to Fort Dix as the army psychiatrist has ordered. Holding Birdy in his arms, Al make his strongest anti-war statements yet as he comes to a realization of why Birdy has withdrawn from the "real" world. Al laments: "They got the best of us. We're totally screwed up. I feel like one of those dogs no one wanted [a reference to a childhood exploit with a dogcatcher]. What's so great about their world anyway? "We should just stay here." What happens next is a little confusing considering the mood of the rest of the film. Birdy suddenly comes around and exclaims, "Al, you're so full of shit!" The two then make a daring attempt at a getaway, beating up hospital guards in the process. As they reach the roof of the hospital, Birdy takes off for the edge of the roof and jumps. Horrified, Al runs over to the edge of the roof and cries "Birdy!" His fears are not confirmed however, as Birdy is seen standing on a second roof top only six feet lower and innocently replies, (with his old cockeyed grin) "What?"

The ending is comic, almost hilarious, which makes it hard to place it within the context of the rest of the movie. However, this is not enough to detract from the overall excellence of the film. Its sensitive portrayal of two young men each suffering from symptoms associated with the very real mental illness known as Post traumatic Stress Disorder is compelling and believable. Although based on William Wharton's novel of the same name (published in 1979) which gave the setting of action as World War II, director Alan Parker effectively updates the setting to the Vietnam era and accurately describes the feelings of isolation, abandonment, and guilt associated with that war. That a connection may exist between the veteran's reception by society and their subsequent development of the disorder is succinctly stated by Dennis W. Lowe, Ph.D., in the following:

"It is possible that the reaction Vietnam Veterans received by society (e.g., lack of validation, support, appreciation) once they returned impaired their ability to reconcile their experience and, therefore, promoted this disorder."

From the callousness of the army doctor to the impolite stares of a little girl at Al's bandaged face, Birdy forces one to reconsider the experience of the Viet Nam Veteran not as a simple objective observer, but rather from the standpoint of those very men who risk life and limb for a war nobody wanted to acknowledge.

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The Breakfast Club

reviewed by Terrence Michael, Pepperdine University

"We think you're crazy by telling us to write an essay about who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms, the most convenient defenitions, you see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a rebel, correct? That's the way we saw each other at 7am this morning. We were brainwashed." These are the words of brainy-nerd, Anthony Michael Hall, as he elects to write everyone's essay for them during a high school detention day. Paul Geason, the hard-nosed dean who is administering the detention for 5 students, asks for an essay from each one of them telling him who they think they are. In the begining of the film, we think we already know. Emilio Estevez (Andy) is a sporto-wrestler who lives in his letterman's jacket. Anthony Michael Hall (Brian) is the typical, smart geek whose car's license plate reads "emc2." Judd Nelson (Bender) is the obnoxious and rebellious looser. Molly Ringwald (Claire) is the sushi-eating, popular princess. And Ally sheedy (Missy) is the skittish weirdo or simple "basket case."

The stereotypes that John Hughes (writer, director, producer) employ are practically the same since the 60s, give or take a marijuana cigarette. Each of the five is from a different clique, yet together represent a cross-section of the entire student body. Clearly, Hughes does a remarkable job of stereotyping the high school aged students. He is spookily inside kids. He knows how the ordinary teenagers (who we rarely see in movies) think and feel: why the nerd would carry a fake I.D. ("so I can vote."), and why the deb would finally be nice to the basket case ("cause you're letting me."). Brian's essay is right on. More than a movie about stereotypes in today's high schools, The Breakfast Club is about youth as a special state of agrieved sensitivity. It explores something common to adolescents everywhere -- the certainty that no one, absolutely no one, could possibly understand how you feel. They only see you as a geek, a freak, or a rebel. Saturday morning, the five are complete strangers, but by 3pm, they will have spent so much time lacerating, attacking, defending, and confessing to one another that they will know all one another's secrets. With the help of Bender, who sarcastically picks at each one to peel off their self protection layers, new frienships will be formed, hostilities swept away, and each one will be stripped down to their true selfs. When the doors to the library open, they will be transformed. All of this will happen as they confess their problems with the common enemy: their parents.

Sociologist Talcot Parsons says that "The peer group may be regarded as a field for the exercise of independence from adult control." He goes on to say that our "psychological function of peer association" is that it provides "a source of non-adult approval and acceptance." The Breakfast Club can clearly be viewed as an underage encounter group that has united for these exact reasons. Hughes implies that parents are still the root of all evil. Brian reveals the real reason he has been put in detention hall: The school found a gun in his locker. He says he wasn't planning on using it on anyone, only himself. It seems he flunked his shop class. This threatend his GPA and more importantly his parents' dreams of his road to success. The problem is Brian only partially shared these dreams. We can assume it was mostly his parents disapproval that led him to detention hall. Andy's problem with his parent's control is even more obvious. He can't even think for himself. His father does it for him. Apparently, Andy taped Larry Lester's buns together for his old man so he'd think he was cool. Andy recall's all the wild pranks and stunts his father frequently reminds him off, as if to say this is how a real champion wrestler would behave. His father has him round so tight around the fantasy of being a champ, though, that he can hardly breathe.

Thus the peer group, the 5 detained students, come together for the acceptance and approval they are deprived of at home from their parents. The need for "independence from adult control" continues with each one. Claire is given nice things like diamond ear rings and expensive lunches. She, however, isn't given the affection she desires and needs. "My parents just use me to get back at each other," she says. Bender is beaten and burned by his father. In one scene, he shows Andy a cigar scar on his arm that he received from spilling a can of paint in the garage. He too, isn't getting the "approval and acceptance" from home. Finally, Missy is just plain ignored. She carries a bag full of "junk" so that she can pick up and leave at any time. "My home life is unsatisfying," she confesses.

As weird as she is, though, it is she who puts her finger on the problem. Andy says, "My god are we ever going to be like our parents?" And Missy replies, "It is inevitable, when you grow up your heart dies." In another scene, Bender asks Claire, "If you had a choice to live with your mom or your dad, who would you live with?" "Probably my brother," she replies. Then Andy is asked if he would live with his parents. He responds, "If I said yes, I'd be an idiot." "No," says Bender, "you're already an idiot. You would just be a liar." On top of the 5 telling of the horrors at home, Hughes reinforces their adult-control misery with Geason's character.

To begin with, the library that Geason confines them to may represent the controlled prison that adults (parents and teachers) are keeping teenagers in. Cinematically, we feel this by Hughes' isolation of the camera in the library. Except for maybe 5 screen minutes, the camera remains confined to the walls of the library. Also, each student walks in, defenses in place, lashing at each other's throat. They snap at each other, make faces, and threaten one another. When Claire, the rather prissy prom-queen type, reveals that she's packed sushi for lunch, Bender stares at the raw fish and tells her, "You won't accept a guy's tonge in your mouth and yet you'd eat that." But as soon as Geason walks in and begins attacking Bender for his rebellious behavior, the rest of the group defends him. Geason shouts, "Who shut that door?" Just minutes ago we would have expected Claire or Andy to po It wasn't until I did this review when I could fully understand why Hughes inserted that David Bowie quote at the begining of the film: "And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through." Hughes knows, as does Talcot Parsons, that certain peer groups are formed "for the exercise of independence from adult control." Andy, Brian, Bender, Claire, and Missy all had something in common. They all shared they same embarrasments, fears, anxietes, and the same disapproval or non-acceptance from their parents. Hughes may deserve more appraisal as a social worker than a filmaker.

(Quotations by Parsons are taken from Socialization and Schools, Harvard Educational Review, Reprint Series No. 1.)

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The Breakfast Club

Reviewed by Gerald J. Grzyb, University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh

While many students have not seen The Emerald Forest prior to my course, virtually all have seen The Breakfast Club (perhaps 3.7 times apiece, as one student suggested). It may be the most popular film to date from John Hughes, the very successful director of many "brat pack" films. Just showing it will make your students wonder how an old fossil and/or cloistered academic such as yourself managed to get so hip.

This may be the age of the "action film" but The Breakfast Club is an "interaction film." The story line is simple. Five students at a suburban Chicago high school have to spend an entire Saturday in detention. Each of the five occupies a particular status in the student world: brain, jock, criminal, princess, or basket case. With the partial exception of the jock and the princess, these students would not normally interact with one another. Yet through a series of interactions--with one another and with the teacher in charge of detention--which are mostly hostile and mostly (at first) initiated by the criminal, they begin to learn the details of one another's lives that lie beneath the status stereotypes. They discover that they have common problems (lousy parents) and become friends with one another. Two unlikely couples (jock and basket case, princess and criminal) even form.

Like every one of Hughes' films, The Breakfast Club can be criticized for simply telling teenagers what they want to hear-- e.g., class and status boundaries can be fairly easily crossed if we just try, parents are the major social problem of our time, etc. All the same, the film is rich with interaction that students can analyze. And since most think they "know" this film, having to dissect it on an exam has the effect of clearly distinguishing sociological analysis from common sense comprehension of everyday life.

The film easily meets the criterion of allowing students to apply sociological learning from several topic areas. They can be asked why the five students eventually formed what seems to be a primary group, why group leadership developed as it did, and whether they think the group will survive. They can be asked how class and sex affect the interaction that takes place in the group. Questions can be included concerning power and authority- -both within the group and between the group members and the teacher.

Since all of the characters in the film--even the teacher and the janitor--engage or have engaged in some form of deviance, another set of questions can be raised. Are any or all of the characters "deviants"? Which actions and appearances are "deviant"? What affects one person's ability to label another? The film lends itself very well to making the point that deviance is a social construction and does so in a way that is likely to "stay with" students.

For me, however, the most important use of this film is as a means for getting students to think about the constraints imposed by social statuses. The five students in the film overcome the barriers of status in less then eight hours. Is it really that easy, or is this just one more instance of Hughes feeding favorite teen fantasies? Immediately after showing the film. I write PRISONERS OF STATUS on the blackboard. I ask students to tell me (on their exams) whether the film underestimates the extent to which we are prisoners. Their answers tell me much about the extent to which they have begun to recognize the many ways society impinges on their lives (a recognition, as Mills noted, that is a prerequisite of real freedom).

Neither The Breakfast Club nor The Emerald Forest are without serious flaws, as may already be apparent. Used as I have suggested, however, they can enhance students' grasp of basic sociological ideas by permitting them to see how those ideas enable them to explain what they see in the films. That is perhaps true of all films to an extent, but the extent varies considerably. The films could be used to introduce some concepts, but I haven't found that as effective as making the film the object of exams. The exams let students discover for themselves just how powerful sociological ideas can be in making sense of the world.

I would finally note that although I use the films in an introductory course, they would be useful in other courses as well. The Breakfast Club would be an excellent choice for social psychology, small groups, or life cycle courses, while The Emerald Forest would have much merit in population/ecology, cultural anthropology, and socialization courses.

REFERENCE Burton, C. Emory. 1988. "Sociology and the Feature Film." Teaching Sociology 16:263-271.

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Honesty in Broadcast News

Reviewed by Michael Moses, Pepperdine University

In a sociological study of world's cultures and values, Milton Rokeach categorized 18 "instrumental values" and 18 "terminal values" that exist virtually universally. When asked to rank the values which they found most important, Americans placed honesty as their ultimate instrumental value. According to Rokeach, an instrumental value is one that helps us attain goals. If we Americans are to be believed, we hold honesty to be the single most important value expressed in our everyday lives as we move toward our goals, or terminal values.

If art is the expression of culture, and if Rokeach's study is valid, one would expect to find a preponderance of movies which deal with honesty as their central themes. However, just the opposite is true. In our current cinema of action-adventure and comic book heroes, there is a society of movies which presents honesty as central dilemmas. The explanation for this dissension between what Americans allege to be most important to their lives and what is presented to them on the silver screen can be one of three: one, we Americans are either lying or are not clear what we actually hold to be most important; two, motion pictures are not an accurate reflection of contemporary American society; or three, honesty doesn't make for riveting cinema. Whichever of these explanations is correct, there is one recent movie which bases its central dilemma on the issue of honesty, and that is James L. Brooks' Broadcast News.

Broadcast News betrays all three possible explanations for the dearth of "honesty" movies: it clearly affirms what is most important to its characters, particularly its central character, Jane Craig (Holly Hunter); it accurately reflects contemporary American society; and it undoubtedly makes for riveting, if adult, cinema. Honesty is the single motivating characteristic for Jane Craig both personally and professionally, and it is her unflagging dedication to this principle which causes her to forsake romance and a possibility for happiness. She is Rokeach's representative American, living her life with honesty supreme.

Jane's honest motivations become evident in the opening scenes of the movie in which she is still a child, writing her worldwide penpals. Her father demands she go to bed and quit being obsessive about those kinds of things. Jane, toting a dictionary, follows her father back into the living room and advises him on his imprecision in using the word "obsessive." Her taking the time out to call him on the point proves that she is not obsessive, so the word choice was unfair. This dedication to clarity and understanding is a type of honesty: a quality which does not allow connotations and imprecision to cloud the truth.

Jane as an adult continues this commitment to honesty. She berates Tom Grunick (William Hurt) on her first evening with him. After he confesses that he has been promoted to news anchor largely on a fluke, she grills him: "What do you want from me? Permission to be a fake?" --and this to a man she was seconds before persuading to give a back rub. Despite her attraction to Tom, she does not disguise her repulsion at his unfounded meteoric rise. She knows it is based on nothing but a talking- head mentality, and she pulls no punches in telling him so.

When she and Aaron (Albert Brooks) travel to Central America to tape a piece on revolutionary fighting, her devotion becomes even more evident in a scene which proves quite telling later in the film. As a camera man instructs one of the fighters to put on a boot so he can film it, Jane rushes onto the scene, yelling: "We are not here to stage news." She tells the fighter to continue doing whatever it is he would naturally do. Her commitment may appear anal in its extremity, but it is this very trait which prevents her from continuing a relationship with Tom later.

She and Tom are established as representing antithetical perspectives on news. Tom, in instructing Aaron on how to deliver the news, reminds him that he is selling: "You're kind of saying, 'Trust me. I'm credible.' So when you hear yourself reading, stop. Start selling." This is clearly opposite to Jane's upholding of the news as an accurate representation of reality. Aaron warns her that Tom "totally goes against everything you're about . . . He personifies everything you've been fighting against." Despite it all, she does fall for Tom, wooed by his genuine niceness.

If Jane is truly dedicated to her principles, however, it is a relationship doomed to failure. Brooks himself shows integrity to his movie by preventing them from jetting off to the Caribbean together at the end. If Jane is as honest as we've been led to believe, she would not go, and she doesn't. No matter that the audience may be hoping that she will overlook Tom's staged tear in his report on date rape. Jane would not, and does not, tolerate dishonesty. She levels with him at the airport: "It's terrible what you did . . . It made me ill . . . This incredible breach of ethics." It is in her decision that Tom behaved inexcusably that Jane is fully revealed as someone dedicated to honesty. It could be argued that it is not honesty which motivates her so much as a dedication to business ethics, but she forsakes a personal relationship for it, so it is taken out of a narrow realm of business.

It takes critical viewing to discern just what motivates Jane Craig and how consistent she is. Broadcast News plays like a conventional love triangle, but winds up being one in which no two players end up together. It is perhaps not the hoped-for- ending, but it is an honest one. Brooks has created a hero of unswerving honesty in Jane Craig. It is the one thing which drives her, and, in the end, it becomes the overriding theme of Broadcast News. It is a rich film of character diversity and plot complications, but at the bedrock of it all lies in honesty and the betrayal of it. Broadcast News was not the hit of Brooks' more sentimental Term of Endearment, but it is perhaps the more representative of the values we Americans say we hold so dear.

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Brubaker

Reviewed by Peter A. Remender, University of Wisconsin-Oshkosh

The film Brubaker is based upon the book Accomplices to the Crime, by Tom Murton and Joy Hyams (1969). The book is out of print, but I would wholeheartedly advocate checking one's library as Accomplices provides valuable background to the film. Tom Murton served as superintendent in the Arkansas Prison System from February 1967 to March 1968, and he was the technical advisor for the film. Another valuable source is the three audiotapes titled, "Tom Murton--Reform Warden," which are available from Greenhaven Press (577 Shoreview Park Road, St. Paul, MN 55112). The audiotapes series, entail Tom Murton speaking about his experiences with the Arkansas Prison System. Either one of these two sources provides the sociology instruction with an excellent basis for evaluating the empirical validity of the film as a document about prison life.

Brubaker can be viewed as a case study of one prison system at one point in time, from the vantage point of a participant observer concerned with strategic intervention and with what he terms genuine or real reform.

The film begins with "runner" being put on a prison bus after he had been badly beaten by inmate guards armed with guns. The Arkansas Prison system did make use of inmate guards armed with guns. Students might be asked to consider what difference the use of free world guards as depicted in the film. The fictional character in the film--Henry Brubaker--experiences the prison as an inmate before he informs everyone that he is the new warden. This reminds me of the approach taken by Washington Post reporter Ben Bagdikian who spent six days in maximum security prison to gain an insider's perspective on prison life (see The Shame of the Prisons, New York: Pocket Books, 1972, a Washington Post national report). Students can be asked to think about how the meaning of the prison experience depends upon one's vantage point. Can an outsider understand the prison experience as an insider would? How critical is the method of participant observation to our discipline? We could explore fundamental concerns of sociologists interested in the sociology of knowledge--is all knowledge perspectival or can we objectively know the truth about our social constructions of reality?

The film is accurate in showing the physical abuse of prisoners by other inmates, the selling of goods and services by inmates, and the use of prisoners for private monetary gain. Inmates were undernourished, while non-inmates ate well (one of Brubaker's reforms was to see that beef raised on the farm would be eaten on the farm). Prison labor was used to build a hotel and (in the film) swimming pools.

Brubaker establishes an inmate council analogous to the one established by Murton in Arkansas. Murton believes that people have to be given responsibility if they are to handle responsibility in the free world outside of prison. One might ask students to think about the hierarchy of authority within bureaucratic organizations and to reflect upon whether the chain of command is the most rational, most efficient way to make decisions. I am reminded of the Mondragon experiment in Spain as a model in which the authority rests with the rank and file rather than with managers. It is noteworthy that some American executives are upset by the labor-management co-determination laws which structure decision making in some other countries.

A supporter of Brubaker warns him that he may self-destruct and argues that he must work within the system: "If you are not in the system, you can't change it." This is a critical issue worthy of much thought. Does change come from inside? Is it necessary to network with the power brokers? To what extent can/must one compromise? Brubaker refuses to "sell out" his principles (stop the grave digging in return for funds for the prisoners still alive). Instead, he calls the newspapers and television situations and brings outside attention and pressure. He argues that if one condones murder, one cannot tell the people in prison why they are locked up; he doesn't believe in playing politics with the truth. Brubaker and Morton both say they can compromise on strategy but not on principle. An instructor might ask students if they can see the distinction Brubaker is making. Do they think they need to "go along" if they wish to "get along?" To what extent would they have compromised if they were in Brubaker's position?

The film takes place at Wakefield Prison. Arkansas has two prison farms-- Tucker and Cummings. Inmates were beaten, had needles run up their finger nails, were tied to an operating table and had wires connected to their genitals while a hand crank telephone--the Tucker Telephone--was used to generate electricity (as much as 105 0r 106 volts, perhaps). The film does show Brubaker with the "Tucker Telephone" but without the graphic detail.

As for corruption, the president of the senate sold paroles ($1,000); the director of the state police had a motel built for himself with inmate labor; a U.S. marshall had his hay cut by inmates; the prosecuting attorney had been accustomed to having his groceries supplied by the prison system; the district judge had his show horses kept on the farm, groomed, trained, and shown by inmates; state police used to come by for steak dinners; and legislators and parole board members ate from special meat lockers containing pheasant, ducks, and geese served to them by the inmates. The facts are from Tom Murton and are taken from the Greenhaven Press audiotapes.

Murton describes the Arkansas Prison System as a "system of total exploitation for the benefit of selected individuals" (audiotape). Prisoners were leased out to contractors. Inmates had milk once a year (though they lived on a dairy farm). While inmates were 40 lbs. underweight on the average, they would load a side of beef in the car of a parole board member during the board hearings at the prison. Of course, it was possible to buy better food (or a better job) as the film did show if you had the money.

Murton observes that the trustees system (inmate guards) was brutal--it was the trustees who were pulling toenails out. Murton asks one of the guards why he took the position. His answer is that you can either inflict pain or be the victim of others. Do our students face similar choices? Do we? Do we endorse the logic of the zero-sum game in which one party gains at the expense of another? What alternatives do we set to the exploitation of individuals for private gain? In this sense, the film is not merely about prison life but about human relationships in our world!

Murton says that his notion of reform is based upon shared decision making; that a system of oppression cannot function without the cooperation of the oppressed. Those of us who are critical of "kinds of people" thinking would endorse the possibility of individual change and would likely view human dignity and social responsibility as vital elements in any behavioral change. The film might be used to get students to think about their views of "human nature."

News media came from Germany, Australia, Denmark, Sweden, and Italy to find out what was going on in the Arkansas Prison System. Murton believes the exposure was needed, that the public had to be aroused. The power structure was alienated; the governor fired Tom Murton.

"Is it fair to light a candle knowing that someone else is going to blow it out?" "Is it functional to free slaves temporarily knowing that somebody else is going to come along later and put them back into shackles?" These are questions raised by Tom Murton that might be raised after viewing the film. In the film, the inmates applauded Brubaker as he was driven from the prison, and their support for him suggests he was right in his actions. Some did suffer. Was the gain worth the cost? Indeed, was the long-range results positive?

After being fired in Arkansas, Murton and his wife paid a personal price--unemployment (it was three years before Murton could get a regular job). What risks should we be prepared to take to achieve what ends?

The film Brubaker has relevance for students interested in the criminal justice system, but its significance extends far beyond one prison system at one particular point in time. All of us concerned about social change should benefit from viewing this film. All of us working within the framework of large scale formal organizations will find much to think about in viewing it. We have much to think about as we play the game, as we play politics, as we decide whether we must compromise. Any individual who desires to be part of the solution to the problems we encounter in our world will find much to think about in the film Brubaker.

REFERENCE

Murton, Tom, and Joy Hyams. 1969. Accomplices to the Crime. New York: Grove Press.


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