Centuries later, a new generation of speakers is emerging under the direction of linguist Jessie Little Doe. A descent of the Wampanoag culture herself, Doe discovered the native language in researching her ancestors and found that they were attempting to communicate through a dead language. She decided to revive the language by creating the Wôpanâak Language Reclamation Project, a group whose primary focus is to rescue Wampanoag from the verge of extinction. Through her continuous efforts, Doe’s research has developed into weekly vocabulary meetings and reading through Wampanoag copies of The Bible to search for words they have not recognized yet. Though tedious, the group’s passion to preserve their dying culture has renewed Wampanoag as a living language that is now being taught to even younger generations.

“We Still Live Here: Âs Nutayuneân” engages the audience in the story of the Wampanoag Indian language’s return while demonstrating how Americans are the link between preserving their heritage for future generations. It also places a heavy emphasis on the struggle between assimilation and cultural preservation with a focus on the tribe’s demise in the midst of European settlement. As the language disappears around the world, viewers are given insight regarding the traditions and cultural history of the Wampanoag community from the group’s discoveries, which may be the path towards a once again thriving future for the Wampanoag people.

About the Review: Kaitlyn Roche is a third-year student at the University of Texas at Austin and currently works in the Marketing department of KLRU. She has contributed to online and print publications such as A.V. Club, San Antonio Express-News and Verbicide Magazine.

After months of trading ten-dollar bills to sit in a theater for two hours, while disappointing films like Transformers III, The Hangover 2, and Rise of the Apes flashed in front of me, I was quickly losing faith in the film industry the way the Autobots lost faith in their fearless leader Optimus Prime when a Decepticon cuts off Optimus’ arm in battle.

Enter: the Austin Film Festival.

For those feeling like they’ve been wandering through a barren desert of movies that deliver a message shallower than a gutter puddle, the Austin Film Festival provided an oasis for weary blockbuster-filmgoers to take shelter and feast.

For a behind-the-scenes look at the Austin Film Festival, tune into KLRU’s series, On Story. Showcasing exclusive footage from past festival panels, as well as interviews with the screenwriters and filmmakers behind the films, On Story gives viewers a chance to experience the Austin Film Festival in a unique way. Every episode of On Story pairs interviews and panel discussions with a short film from a Texas filmmaker who was featured at the Austin Film Festival.

As a first-time festivalgoer, I had no idea what to expect, so I decided my only objective would be to see and do as much as possible on Saturday and Sunday. Below is a tasting of some of the films I saw, including ones that made me think “what on earth?”, films I appreciated, but did not necessarily love, and films that made me want to be a better person:

An Ordinary Family
I happened upon this movie by mistake. No doubt the best mistake I made all weekend. Filmed in Austin, An Ordinary Family is centered around the turbulent relationship of two brothers as they are forced to be together for a weeklong family reunion. The eldest brother, Thomas, a priest with a wife and two children, hosts the reunion at his Austin home. When his brother, Seth, surprises Thomas by arriving with his homosexual partner, Thomas takes no heed in voicing his disapproval. I thought this movie was going to follow the well-worn plot path of condemning homosexuals, but that was not the case at all. This movie really struck me because of how realistic it was. The truth is, no one knows how to handle this situation in the “right” way. Sometimes, humans make mistakes and say nasty things to hurt each other. Sometimes, siblings throw tantrums and bicker like five year olds. But it’s okay, because as this film shows, the ties that bind families together cannot be severed by petty disputes.

Cataplexy
I loved this short film! Ever heard of cataplexy? Me neither til a few days ago. It’s a rare condition where a person’s body suddenly paralyzes and goes limp after experiencing a particular emotion. The fellow in this movie has a form of cataplexy where anytime he feels pure love, his body goes limp. The way he deals with it, is by having no-strings-attached sex with call girls. On one night, he opens the door to find an old high school friend as his girl for the evening. The tangible awkwardness made me squirm in my chair. Never fear, the awkwardness is soon assuaged by their empathetic gestures toward each other and they end up reminiscing, playing games, and chatting long into the night…until something goes out with a bang.

0507
Chock full of dramatic irony, this film is short in duration, but really convicting. If you have a smartphone, specifically the coveted iPhone, you may leave this movie thinking it was written about you. A couple is sitting on the couch together one afternoon and through a single, mundane interaction, they make you realize all the little ways that iPhones are actually bamboozling us.

Below Zero
I noticed a theme at this year’s festival with people making films about filmmakers. It makes sense, though, because people write about what they know and what do filmmakers know best? Exactly. Based on a true story about the screenwriter, this film coalesces reality with hallucination in such a seamless manner that distinguishing between the two is virtually impossible. This was what initially drew me to the movie, but by the time the third false ending came and went, I was over it.

The basic premise of the movie is a screenwriter who is locked in a meat cooler for five days in an attempt to cure his horrid case of writers block. While sitting in a room with a dead pig hanging from the ceiling, he writes a script about a screenwriter who is locked in a meat cooler by a serial killer. It was a good concept, but the ending (when the real one FINALLY happened), was rather predictable.

Sal
Written and directed by the multi-talented James Franco, this movie was a ride-alongside depiction of the last day of late actor Sal Mineo’s life. I really enjoyed watching the movie because of the way it was filmed. The way Franco used camera angles and close-up shots, gave the audience an intimate account of Mineo. From the very first scene, I felt like I was a part of the movie. The film opens with Mineo at the gym, gasping in anguish as he struggles to push dumbbells over his head, while beads of sweat stream down his forehead, and as I watched, my body tensed up at the sight of his distress. If you do go see the movie, let me warn you: knowing the movie ends with Mineo’s murder, you sit there the entire time with that anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach. Kind of like a clammy-handed kid waiting to be scorned by her parents.

Like Crazy
This movie’s ending made me feel hollow and sad. It did, however, give a refreshingly realistic picture of love and romantic relationships and it filled me with questions. When falling in love, no one ever thinks about what happens when the person who promises to walk through life with you everyday until death do you part…just stops being “the one”? What happens when the relationship you have given so much of yourself to just ends one day? No zombie horror movie has ever made me feel like someone ripped my guts out the way this movie did. There is no feeling worse than the empty feeling in your heart where love used to live.

Overall, Austin Film Festival 2011 delivered. It exceeded all my expectations and although some films put me in a really uncomfortable trance, it was really eye-opening and the films that were good were tremendously enjoyable.

About the Review: Brionne Griffin is a third-year Multimedia Journalism student at the University of Texas at Austin. She is a Communications Assistant at KLRU and a copy editor for The Daily Texan. Over the summer, she worked on several multimedia projects for Fortune 500 companies while interning for internet marketing firm Apogee Results, and next semester, she will be studying abroad in Aix-en-Provence, France.

Into the picture walks Cameron Crowe, established as both a successfully offbeat director (Almost Famous, Jerry McGuire) and former journalist for Rolling Stone magazine. A dabble in both spheres (along with being among the band’s inner circle when they formed) certainly qualifies Crowe as a contender for telling the story of Pearl Jam’s complicated yet lasting bond, a task which he grippingly accomplishes in the new documentary Pearl Jam Twenty.

The film traces the band’s early beginnings towards the chaos that ensued after being catapulted into celebrity status, their resulting digression from the spotlight in hopes of preserving the band’s values, and the making of an everlasting bond between the five members. Through grainy footage and raw recordings, we are given the ultimate perspective into Pearl Jam’s past as we are led through backstage antics and footage of a young Eddie Vedder singing timidly onstage as he notices violence ensuing in the crowd of their first performances. While some moments progress towards tragedy and dark problems, the band’s ability to learn from and adjust to fame work to make up the larger narrative: the premature development of a genuine rock band that both defined and survived the Grunge era.

The first 30 minutes of the film are terrific. The archived shots seemed to be nostalgic for many fans in the packed Alamo Drafthouse advanced screening (nearly half were uniformed in aged Pearl Jam tour tees), but proved to be more of a history lesson for me. Footage of Chris Cornell recounting his initial infatuation with Eddie Vedder preceding a clip of Kurt Cobain calling his “too mainstream” illustrated a division within the Seattle grunge scene I hadn’t previously known. If Cameron Crowe taught a college course in History of Rock, I would certainly be the first to enroll.

The rest of the film kept my attention for the most part, although some parts seemed out of place in the overall context of the story. Breaking off in the middle to accompany each band member in a “day-in-the-life-of” tour was an appropriate update in the midst of their trials, yet somewhat distracting from the timeline I thought had developed. Nonetheless, such digressions seem to only illustrate further the band’s attempt to stay true to their art, demonstrated clearly by Stone Gossard’s not-so-celebrity abode (the man keeps his Grammy in a dusty basement corner!)

In the end, the band makes it out alive in what one could call an antithesis to a “Behind The Music”, seeing they are still performing and well. Crowe gives great insight into the life of a band whose members are not perfect, but still successfully maintain the Grunge legacy whose foundations have since perished.

About the Review: Kaitlyn Roche is a third-year student at the University of Texas at Austin and currently works in the Communications department of KLRU. She has contributed to online and print publications such as A.V. Club, San Antonio Express-News and Verbicide Magazine.

Martinez’s mother, Pauline, asks at one point, “Why are people killed for being who they are?” As Nibley tells Fred’s story, she sets out to answer his mother’s question. The director squarely places the blame on Western culture, particularly Christianity, and its dualist concept of gender. Rooted in a literalist reading of Genesis, it claims that people are only male and female, and nothing in between. Nibley contrasts this with an explication of the Navajo understanding of four genders, ranging from the asdzaan, or “feminine woman,” to the nadleehi. Mainstream Americans and Christianized Navajos, she suggests, lack a nuanced understanding of gender and so respond with hostility to transgendered people. Such sweeping generalizations, however, are a major problem for Two Spirits.

While rightly criticizing certain Christian churches for their narrow and damaging understandings of gender and sexuality, Nibley broadly paints all of Western culture as a two-dimensional villain, a straw man set up only to be knocked down. History, however, provides evidence of a more complicated understanding in the West than she offers. Nibley could’ve mentioned, for example, the “Boston marriage” in nineteenth-century America. Here, two women would live in the same household, with one taking the traditionally masculine role and wearing men’s clothing. Such relationships were more common than many today realize and were often tolerated, looked upon with everything from humor to affection by their neighbors. In setting up this straw man, then, the film effectively obliterates the lives of LGBTQ people from Western history, a history that scholars and activists have long struggle to reclaim. Furthermore, Nibley fails to comment on or provide evidence of the growing acceptance of transgendered people among other contemporary Americans.

The point is that a more nuanced approach might have greatly helped Nibley in answering the question, “Why are people killed for being who they are?” She never fully explores Murphy’s motivations in the killing. In fact, her film presents them as fairly murky. She leaves the viewer to conclude instead that the influence of Western dualism lies behind such deeds. Yet, Nibley nowhere draws a direct connection between that and the killer. She doesn’t provide evidence that Murphy was Christian, for example. A drug dealer, he doesn’t seem to be someone who takes the teachings of Christianity—right or wrong—very seriously. We know that not every Christian hates transgendered people, let alone publically insults or even kills them. Something more had to be behind the killing. By delving more deeply into that problem and spending less time on broad generalizations, Nibley probably could’ve made her sparse account of the murder and Murphy’s plea bargain weightier, more insightful and more helpful.

An even greater problem for Nibley is her apparent equation of being transgendered with being gay or lesbian. While it is true that Martinez was attracted to men, this isn’t the case for every transgendered person. Being transgendered is as much or more a matter of gender identity than sexual attraction. There are men who are married, identify as transgendered and often express that by dressing in women’s clothing. Sometimes the wife is aware; sometimes she isn’t. (Just last year, at another Community Cinema screening, I met a man who occasionally assumes a feminine identity and who is openly and happily supported by his wife.) If equating gender identity with sexual orientation is part of the Navajo tradition, perhaps Nibley could’ve made that clearer. However, the concept of the nadleehi is so nuanced that I wonder if that is the case. By making transgendered synonymous with gay, Nibley limits our understanding of and does a disservice to the transgendered community.

In sum, then, Nibley misses an important opportunity to present an important story with the nuance and insight that her subject calls for. Fred Martinez was a beautiful, wonderful, strong person who lived bravely at the crossroads of two prejudices. I encourage everyone to watch Two Spirits for his story. Yet, his tragic end is couched in broad, paper-thin generalizations that may actually do more harm than good. So I also encourage everyone to avoid accepting Nibley’s wholly unsatisfying answer to Pauline’s question “Why are people killed for being who they are?”

— Scott Hoffman

About the Review: Scott Hoffman currently works on the programming department of KLRU-TV. An independent scholar, he has a Ph.D. in American Studies from Purdue. He recently published a paper, “‘Last Night I Prayed to Matthew:’ Matthew Shepard, Homosexuality and Popular Martyrdom in Contemporary America,” in Religion and Popular Culture. He is currently revising his manuscript, Haloed by the Nation: Popular Martyrdom in Contemporary America. He also volunteers at the Austin History Center, cataloging its LGBT holdings.

Manchester Detective Chief Inspector Sam Tyler is having a bad day. Forced to release his chief suspect in a murder case, fighting with his co-worker/former lover Maya, who then disappears while tailing the suspect, Tyler finds himself standing outside his Grand Cherokee after being nearly run off the road by a careless driver. As he collects himself to the strains of David Bowie’s “Life on Mars?,” he’s suddenly hit by a speeding car, and his reality skews off-kilter in a way he couldn’t imagine.

Sam awakens to find himself on the same stretch of road, but in a very different time: 1973. Demoted a rank and tracking the same killer in the ’70s as he was in the ’00s, Sam fights to accept his bizarre new circumstances as he finds direct connections between the case he’s working on now and the one he unwillingly left behind. Assisting Sam in very different ways are Annie, a friendly WPC to whom he confesses his state of mind, and DCI Gene Hunt, his aggressive boss who prefers physical confrontation and coercion to forensics when it comes to solving crimes.

While the circumstances of Sam’s arrival in 1973 are deliberately left vague, major hints get dropped. Sometimes Sam hears the sounds of medical workers and machines trying to save his life. He also watches an educational TV show whose host unexpectedly shifts from talking about math to talking about Sam’s coma and responsiveness. Sam also meets Neil, Annie’s hypnotherapist ex-boyfriend, whose first words to Sam are “Sam, can you hear me?” and who may be a direct link to 2006.

A set-up like this one has to be handled carefully in order to be convincing – too much emphasis on one element and the whole story becomes ludicrous. Fortunately, everyone involved in the show works hard to maintain a sense of balance. There are bits of the expected culture shock humor, but they’re handled with deadpan logic – no sitcom-style zaniness or over-the-top one liners here. The actors have strong handles on their characters’ personalities, giving them the human qualities that raise them above the mere figments of imagination Sam believes them to be. There’s also great attention to detail in the set design and atmosphere – the gritty, faded look to 1973 stands in stark contrast to the clean, blinding whites of 2006, giving the show a real sense of place and time. The vintage early 70s rock tunes on the soundtrack don’t hurt, either, though the thick Mancunian working class accents might prove off-putting to those not used to them.

Ultimately, Sam is torn between doing his job to the best of his ability with his new limitations, and finding his way back to his own time to save Maya. Nelson, the Rasta bartender at his precinct’s local watering hole, tells him, “You’re not lost, pal. You’re where you are now. And you have to make the best of it.” Will Sam take that advice to heart? We’ll have to tune in to every episode to find out, and if they’re all as good as this one, it’ll be a pleasure.

– Michael Toland

About the reviewer: Michael Toland is the archivist and assistant producer for Austin City Limits. He also writes about music for Blurt, The Big Takeover, Sleazegrinder, Trouser Press and The Austinist.

“What do I want?” That’s the primal question at the heart of Lennon Naked, Masterpiece Contemporary’s biopic of John Lennon in the 60s. Forced at six years old to make a choice no child should ever be asked to make, Lennon spends the years depicted in the film (roughly 1964-1971) searching for the answer, aware that the consequences of any choice he makes will haunt him, no matter what the outcome.

As a result, Lennon spends most of the film on a quest to leave the past behind – not just breaking with it, but scorching the earth and burning any bridge that leads to it. Whether it’s for his own sanity or because he’s a selfish git, Lennon either abandons the people in his pre-Yoko Ono life – his first wife Cynthia, his son Julian, the Beatles – or forces them to abandon him, as with his childhood friend/right-hand-man Pete. It’s a cycle, of course – his father leaving the family when Lennon was six (a pattern repeated by the son) and the unexpected death of Beatles manager Brian Epstein, the father figure Lennon didn’t have as a child, left deep wounds which clearly never fully healed. Only his time with Yoko Ono (who, except for one offhand comment from Paul McCartney, is never portrayed as “the woman who broke up the Beatles”) seems to bring him any peace or happiness, though his own inner anguish still vibrates just below the surface of his man-in-love smile.

Occasionally you wonder at this film’s daring – can you really base the emotional twists and turns of this complex man on one (admittedly tragic) moment from his past? Even when remnants of that moment come back into his life, in the form of the previously shadowy figure of his father? But whether you buy that in the case of the real Lennon or not, Christopher Eccleston sells it here with a powerful, nuanced performance you won’t be able to take your eyes off of. Even in Lennon’s coldest, cruelest moments (and there are plenty of those), you get the sense he’s focusing his inner anguish into a sharp blade of anger and contempt at a world he doesn’t want to deal with until he knows himself what he truly wants. And when Lennon finally gives his pain voice, whether it’s in conversation with Yoko, in commiseration with his psychiatrist or in confrontation with his father, Eccleston portrays the tortured Beatle with just enough passion to squeeze your heart, but not enough to go over the top.

“It’s not peace I want – it’s pandemonium,” Lennon seethes following the press conference for the infamous Bed-In for Peace. Only that choice works out, given Lennon’s fragile emotional state, and finally Lennon and Yoko wipe the slate clean by leaving the country of his birth for a new life in New York. Has Lennon finally discovered what he wants, or is he simply running away, pretending his former life didn’t exist, as he believes his father did? When he’s asked at his final British press conference, in which he announces the move, “What about your son?” the film leaves the question hanging. The viewer will feel the same way at the end, but it’s an appropriate conclusion. Resolution never comes easy, not in real life, nor in Lennon Naked.

– Michael Toland

About the reviewer: Michael Toland is the archivist and assistant producer for Austin City Limits. He also writes about music for Blurt, The Big Takeover, Sleazegrinder, Trouser Press and The Austinist.

Masterpiece Classic “The Diary of Anne Frank”
Sunday, April 11, at 8 p.m.
Note: This program airs on Holocaust Remembrance Day

Anne Frank’s story is one that has been recounted in many forms. Her writing is a unique slice of existence during the Nazi occupation and persecution of the Jewish people in Europe during World War 2. Masterpiece‘s authentic adaptation brings Anne’s writings to life with the help of an excellent performance by actress Ellie Kendrick (An Education). Kendrick aptly coveys the passion and longing of a girl coming of age in such a restrictive environment.

Stashed away in a hidden annex behind a bookcase, Anne’s family and a handful of their fellow Jewish neighbors struggle for two years to remain resourceful, quiet and hopeful, aided by a dwindling but dedicated group of supporters on the outside. As Amsterdam’s streets fill with Nazi soldiers, word of Jews disappearing from their homes makes it back to the hidden
group. The shock of which causes Anne’s mother to nearly break down with anxiety. Anne is in many ways too preoccupied with adolescence and what she may be missing outside to allow herself to be affected the same. She is an intelligent girl and understands the consequences of war, but her youthful spirit, perhaps an unconscious element of self-preservation, cannot be
darkened by her confinement.

The last entry in her diary perhaps best illustrates her spirit:
“I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart”

A spirit that will surely live on forever. This is a Masterpiece not to be missed.

About the reviewer: Mark Pedini is KLRU’s Graphic Designer. He also enjoys illustrating and screen printing show posters with his wife Farley. Mark is the father of a two-year-old daughter who loves Elmo and Clifford. Mark’s favorite Masterpiece programs are Sense and Sensibility, Forsyte Saga and Bleak House.

This documentary for PBS by award-winning filmmaker David Grubin and narrated by Richard Gere, tells the story of the Buddha’s life, a journey especially relevant to our own bewildering times of violent change and spiritual confusion. It features the work of some of the world’s greatest artists and sculptors who, across two millennia, have depicted the Buddha’s life in art rich in beauty and complexity.

This is a beautiful film, visually, musically and theologically. It blends the Buddhist traditions and practices with the life story of the struggles and learning of Siddhartha. His experiences and insights are as relevant today as in his own time. A wonderful 2-hour respite from the world. A time to hear the story, but also to reflect on the world we live in and what our response to it will be. I encourage you to set aside the time to watch this beautiful film.

— Betsy Gerdeman

About the reviewer: Betsy Gerdeman is Sr. VP of Development at KLRU. She returned to Central Texas and to public broadcasting in 2008. Being a news hound, her favorite PBS shows are Frontline and PBS NewsHour. She formerly worked in interfaith initiatives in Washington DC and Houston, Texas and was the Boniuk Center Fellow to the International Summer School on Religion and Public Life in Birmingham, UK in 2009.

Eyes on the Prize premiered on PBS and on KLRU in 1987.  This groundbreaking first season of Eyes on the Prize will return in April 2010.  Six one-hour episodes will air on Thursday nights: April 1, 8 & 15 from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m. on KLRU-TV.

Eyes on the Prize remains the definitive documentary series exploring the civil rights movement.  It portrays the story of ordinary people who took extraordinary measures to create a social movement.  The television series is one of the most critically acclaimed documentaries on civil rights in America.  Eyes on the Prize has won six Emmy Awards and numerous other awards including the top DuPont-Columbia Award for excellence in broadcast journalism.

Through contemporary interviews and historical footage, Eyes on the Prize traces the civil rights movement from the Montgomery bus boycott to the Voting Rights Act; from early acts of individual courage to the mass demonstrations.  Julian Bond, political leader and civil rights activist narrates the series.

Many of us are familiar with civil rights leaders such as Rose Parks and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  Many of us are familiar with “Freedom Riders” and the March on Washington, D. C.  Yet there are many other events and individuals that have been captured in the Eyes on the Prize series.  And here is an exceptional way to become familiar with many more of the participants and events that defined the civil rights movement.

Please be sure to join KLRU for the presentation of Eyes on the Prize beginning Thursday, April 1st.

— Maria Rodriguez

About the reviewer: Maria Rodriguez is KLRU’s Sr. VP of Broadcasting.

Watch online:
Episode 1 (available until December 22)
Episode 2 (available until December 22)

Collision is an action packed drama about how people’s lives become connected after a multi-vehicle highway accident.  The story unfolds with the accident in the beginning and then goes back to take a look at
the lives of those involved.  Each time they flashback to a different character you learn a little bit more about what was going on in their lives before the accident.  With an element of mystery and intrigue the directors keep you wanting to know more and guessing about what really lead up to the accident. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the episodes I watched and am looking forward to finding our more about the characters and their lives. 

— Allison Laymon

About the reviewer: Allison Laymon has been with KLRU in the Accounting Department for five years.  When she is not crunching numbers, she enjoys spending time with her family and remembers watching Masterpiece Theatre “Upstairs Downstairs” with her parents many moons ago. She hopes to instill the love of watching public television with her kids for many years to come.