By AARON CUTLER
By INKOO KANG
By SIMON ABRAMS
By SHERILYN CONNELLY
By NICK SCHAGER
By STEPHANIE ZACHAREK
By CHRIS KLIMEK
By NICK SCHAGER
Only Enemies of Happiness—another well-deserved jury prizewinner—drew greater exhilaration out of despair; its portrait of Malalai Joya, the young woman elected in 2005 to Afghanistan's parliament, carries the magic uplift of classic Hollywood and the considerable bonus of authenticity. Other war-zone docs allowed far less room for hope. The Israeli Hot House interviews imprisoned Palestinians who have inevitably become martyrs to their cause and shows how "success" in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict only stands to bring more failure. And Charles Ferguson's masterfully edited No End in Sight turns the well-known details of our monstrously bungled Iraq War into an enraging, apocalyptic litany of fuckups.
Whether any movie can make a difference at one of the lowest points in human history seemed a recurring question. A panel discussion called "The Times, Did They A-Change?" (couldn't they at least have changed the title?) concluded only that, in a global market, the antiquated "counterculture" might sell better as a multinational concept. The movies, to their credit, held even less faith in their own power. The young American whistleblower of the devastating Darfur doc The Devil Came on Horseback learns the hard way that practically no one is listening, even (or especially) when the message has to do with genocide, while the anti-apathy, global warming film Everything's Cool messily wonders whether the climate can withstand activist infighting—and how to capitalize on An Inconvenient Truth.
If a single screen can't hold the world's countless horrors, documentary rabble-rouser Travis Wilkerson (An Injury to One) did well to employ five, plus a folk-rock band, for his latest work, Soapbox Agitation #1: Proving Ground, a multimedia rumination on Lenin, Brecht, imperialism, anticapitalism, and war that invigorated tiny crowds at the fest's New Frontier sidebar. Bracingly resistant to the festival's marketing/distribution model, Wilkerson ("Slave labor and theft are the foundations of American power!") says he may never again perform the show—a sadly suitable outcome for one of the only Sundance products that wasn't for sale.
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