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Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

Politics and the Movies 5: Snowden

 According to a recent issue of the New York Times Magazine, filmmaker Oliver Stone had said, after making a career of focusing on political message vehicles — think JFK, Nixon, Born on the 4th of July…heck, even Platoon and Wall Street, and perhaps most notably (or notoriously) the muckraking TV series-cum-book entitled The Unknown History of the United States —he had become loath to do anything more in that genre.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Edward Snowden in Oliver Stone’s Snowden

Well, then, surprise! Stone’s most recent venture, opening Friday night at the Paradiso, is entitled simply Snowden — after its subject, exiled programmer/cryptographer Edward Snowden, arguably the most famous whistle-blower of all time and certainly the one whose actions have had the most contemporary political impact.

This is the man — passportless as a result of his own government’s retribution and now holed up in Moscow, courtesy of that country’s America-baiting leader, Vladimir Putin — who released to the world a cyber-cornucopia of secret codes and programs demonstrating conclusively that America’s National Security Administration (NSA) had systematically abused this country’s laws and traditions by spying relentlessly on its citizens and those of various other nations, friendly and unfriendly.

It is easy to confuse the Snowden saga with that of such other whistle-blowers as Chelsea (ne Edward) Manning, the transgender soldier who made over to Wikileaks almost a million sensitive documents relating to military secrets and who languishes now at Leavenworth Prison, or with Mr. Wikileaks himself, the Australian programmer/journalist Julian Assange, currently suspected of two-way collaboration with the Republican Party and the Russian government in the outing of sensitive, embarrassing information involving the Democratic National Committee.

Snowden first turned up on film in the award-winning 2014 documentary Citizenfour, which focused on how he turned over his incriminating information to journalist Glenn Greenwald and filmmaker Laura Poitras. In Stone’s hands and as ably portrayed by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, something both more substantial and more ordinary. Snowden comes off as a youthful striver and over-achieving computer nerd with a full set of idiosyncratic and rather endearing personal quirks. He had what appears to have been a legitimate and somewhat conventional romantic life. After months during which various incarnations of the movie had been screened before a series of private international audiences, the final version got its debut in Paradiso and 80 other theaters, nationwide, on Wednesday night. It opens its regular run on Friday.

The audience at the Paradiso and those other early-bird venues Wednesday night got something extra after the screening — nearly an hour’s worth of live conversation between Stone, Gordon-Leavitt, Shailene Woodley (who plays Snowden’s ever-loyal but independent-minded girl friend), and, Snowden himself, on a remote from Moscow.

Given director Stone’s well-established political pedigree, it was a bit surprising to hear him assert, when asked, that he had no particular “takeaway” in mind for his movie, that he was a dramatist first of all and had discovered in his basic source materials — a non-fiction novel by Russian author Anatoly Kucherena and his own interviews with Snowden and his circle — the ingredients of a love story.

As disingenuous as that sounds, it is borne out somewhat by the movie Stone made, in which Snowden figures as no mere hacker but as a prized code-writer and developer for both the CIA and the NSA who, to trust the script, had become an agency man for patriotic reasons after 9/11. He created some of the very programs that, to his consternation, he would discover are being used for indiscriminate snooping.

We are repelled, along with Snowden, as we see his idealism and patriotic purpose mocked by the cynical use of cyber-technology, including his own programs, on the part of the government agencies he works for in a series of exotic international venues — Hong Kong, Geneva, Hawaii, Tokyo among them. Stone makes the most of these locales — almost in the travelogue sense of a Bond or Jason Bourne saga — and he manages to endow his bespectacled Everyman protagonist with some of that cachet as well.

An early scene involves a Turkish banker whom Snowden, armed by the CIA with a false name and a fabricated identity, has been urged to cultivate in Hong Kong — not for purposes of national security, as it turns out, but to hook into the financial assets of the banker, who is basically blackmailed after illegal snooping discovers that his son, who is moved thereby to attempt suicide, is an illegal resident and liable for deportation.

More disillusionment comes when Snowden views first-hand the carnage and collateral damage resulting from drone strikes that may or may not be targeting actual malefactors. But the ultimate epiphany is Snowden’s realization that the NSA has arrogated to itself the right to obtain access via cyber-snooping to the emails, telephone records, and innermost privacies of every citizen everywhere.

All of these professional dilemmas, meanwhile, are made to parallel Snowden’s personal drama with girl friend Lindsay Mills, a model and dancer whose political liberalism and emancipated personal credo (her provocative pictorials are getting hits a-plenty online), are juiced, in Woodley’s portrayal, with a soupcon of Girl Next Door. For Gordon-Levirtt’s Snowden, she manages to suggest both the Normalcy principle and Gatsby’s green light, both of which beckon him away from the tawdriness (and secrecy) of his professional life.

Regardless of how much poetic license might have gone into the effort, Stone has succeeded, at minimum, in rescuing his protagonist from the political-science abstraction of Edward Snowden Whistleblower and presenting him as Real Dude Ed Snowden, the possessor of both an accessible and likeable personality and an eloquence worthy of the issue he has come to represent.

Gordon-Levitt certainly succeeds in that respect, but the real coup de grace was delivered by Snowden himself, who, during the live chat of Wednesday night’s post-screening simulcast, was asked his reaction to seeing himself portrayed on film, private life and all. With evident sincerity, coupled with a sheep-eating grin and bona fide spontaneous blush, Snowden allowed as how he was a little bit embarrassed at being outed as “the world’s worst boy friend.”

That bit of self-deprecating charm was followed, moments later, by his serious answer to the question of why it is that, in this age of terrorism and international tension, it is important to safeguard a sense of privacy. For someone to suggest that governmental scrutiny is no problem for “those have nothing to hide,” is equivalent, said Snowden, to saying that free speech is unimportant only if “you have nothing to say.”

Face it: Oliver Stone is both a filmmaker and propagandist, and his movie is undeniably ex parte, but it is indisputable as well that both Ed Snowden and the eponymous film bearing his name have something to say.

And, even as arguments rage as to whether Snowden, still in danger of prosecution for espionage, deserves a pardon or, conversely, a prison, it is also indisputable that his actions have forced Congress belatedly to act, placing reasonable limitations on the NSA’s previously unbounded ability to invade the personal sphere of ordinary American citizens.

Politics and the Movies 5: Snowden

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

Citizenfour

I truly believe that meaningful personal liberty is impossible without guaranteed personal privacy. Which is why Citizenfour — Laura Poitras’ new documentary about Edward Snowden’s decision to expose the United States government’s massive, secret, and mostly illegal foreign and domestic surveillance programs — is the most frightening movie I’ve seen in years. Watching Citizenfour is like slowly ingesting a long draught of liquid hopelessness; the enormity of the dull, aching fear it produces is akin to being reminded repeatedly about both your political impotence and your cosmic insignificance.

Interestingly, Snowden — whose long interview in a Hong Kong hotel room with Poitras and journalists Glenn Greenwald and Ewen MacAskill makes up nearly half the film — reached out to the filmmaker via email while she was living in Berlin and working on a documentary about the contemporary surveillance state. Snowden’s earliest correspondence appears onscreen as a nonsensical jumble of letters and numbers that suggest the Zodiac killer’s initial letters to the Bay Area press. But we quickly realize that these are copies of the heavily encrypted messages Snowden originally sent.

Poitras reads excerpts from these emails throughout the film, and at first they sound like dispatches from the outer provinces of a conspiracy-mad no-man’s-land. For example, when it comes to password protection, Poitras is told to “assume your adversary is capable of 1 trillion guesses per second.” As the film goes on, and as the government’s capacity and willingness to spy on its own citizens grows clearer, they start to sound like the grim facts of online life.

Edward Snowden

Poitras and her collaborators make the mountains of information Snowden presents to them fairly easy to see and understand. She doesn’t deal explicitly with many of the documents Snowden leaked, but over time the sinister implications of buzzwords like “meta-data” and “linkability” become apparent. It is sobering to know that, if you have a debit card and a phone, the government can essentially track your whereabouts at all times. (It’s also sobering to know that someone somewhere has recorded every instance where I searched for more information about “GCHQ” or “Wikileaks” or “Jacob Appelbaum” while writing this review.)

Snowden himself is capable of a grim sense of humor about his endeavors, but mostly he exudes the divine gravity of a tech-savvy monk who’s doused himself in gasoline and is about to light a match. He keeps his identity secret for as long as he can, but when he speaks, his words feel aimed at future generations. He’s onscreen a lot in this movie, and one of the film’s biggest shocks is that this harmless-looking dweeb, with his patchy facial hair and strong prescription lenses is the one who spoke out.

The end of the film, which features Snowden and Greenwald in matching blue shirts exchanging slips of paper and knowing glances like a pair of overgrown private-school kids, is silent about next steps. But what is to be done? And if not now, when?

Categories
Editorial Opinion

Psssssst!

We have secrets. All of us. Who among us who deal with the online universe hasn’t googled something they’d just as soon other people didn’t know about? Who, for that matter, hasn’t internally got some response ready in the — presumably unlikely — case of discovery? “Well, you see, I was doing a research paper and I figured the best thing to do was to go to the source.”

Right.

And there are few of us, though we may profess to prefer “shopping local,” who have not purchased a lower-priced item online. Putting up with a little internet tracking and the resultant stalking adware is part of the price we pay.

The fact is that the hackers and hucksters are way ahead of us. They’ll find a way to invade our privacy — or our illusions of privacy — particularly when, in this age of social media, most of us are doing all we can on our own, via Facebook or Twitter or Vine or whatever, to get our lives out in front of the wide, wide world.

Voluntarily or not, we are increasingly laid bare to all sorts of onlookers — authorized, semi-authorized, and downright covert — who know as much about ourselves as we do. And they are constantly feeding the data they glean into databases that provide a context for whatever they want to do to (or for) us — or sell us — next.

And now, as we know, it isn’t just the commercial predators who are doing this to us; it’s our own government at the highest and — for all we know — the lowest levels.

Are we supposed to have so much leftover venom from the long-gone Cold War as to develop a good case of rage against Russia’s Vladimir Putin for providing shelter to Edward Snowden, the erstwhile systems analyst for the National Security Agency, who went whistle-blower on his former employer’s spying habits? Are we supposed to be outraged that Snowden revealed the depth of the data being collected about U.S. citizens, even to the point of requisitioning the records of major phone carriers?

Did you pay attention to all those Verizon ads about how large their network is? The NSA obviously did.

It is too early to tell if Snowden, whom the Russians have promised a year’s sanctuary, is the Erin Brockovich or the Daniel Ellsberg of our time or just another self-justifying mischief-maker. But how does the Scripture go? “By their fruits you shall know them.” The fruits of what Snowden has revealed are voluminous and troubling. And not so much about himself as about the folks he used to work for. That much we know.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

The Rant

I know the Rant is usually an opinion piece (why else would it be called the Rant?), but this week I have no opinions. None. I am taking a break from opinions. They are like … well, you know what they are like.

Everyone has one. I do, however, have questions. I’m always plagued with questions screaming through my head and I

rarely get answers. So I want all of you who post comments on this column’s website page to share some answers with me. Let’s do a little give and take. Let’s communicate. Let’s collaborate. No, never mind. I hate collaborating. (Oops, there goes an opinion.) So here. Help me out with these:

How on earth could NSA phone hacking whistleblower Edward Snowden have lived in the transit zone of Moscow’s Sheremetyevo Airport for more than a month before finally being granted asylum? I mean, I love all this international spy drama, but I get the heebie-jeebies if I have to spend more than an hour in an airport. The food sucks, everything costs a fortune, people are rude, there are all those announcements over the loud speakers that no one can possibly understand so you don’t even know if a plane is about to crash into it or if your flight is one hour or six hours late, and it is always hotter than hell because they are too big to air-condition properly. I’ll bet you one thing: If Snowden had been stuck in the Atlanta airport with no idea when he might get out, he would have surrendered within an hour.

Speaking of airports, why is it that all of the airlines these days seem to be crooked and sometimes downright evil? They are price gougers, the planes are never on time, you have to pay to bring a pencil on board, the planes are becoming even less spacious than they already are, if that’s possible, and they always claim they are broke. I am leaving shortly after I write this to travel with the Stax Music Academy on their Summer Soul Tour and I am traveling by bus and train and I have never been happier.

WHO are the Kardashians? I have asked this over and over and over and I still have no clue. I hear their names all the time, I see them splashed across the news, I hear about their marriages, divorces, and babies, but who are they? What are their accomplishments? I’m serious. I feel un-American not knowing who these people are.

How did Rand Paul get elected to whatever office it is he holds? I thought he was mentally unstable. He certainly acts like it. I thought he was something akin to a practical joke like Prince Mongo (no offense, Mongo!), but now I see him sparring with my man Chris Christie over pork and bacon. Dude, leave Chris alone. Who are you and why are you in office and why are you picking fights with Chris? What are you, some kind of a Tea Party freak? Get off my television screen!

Why is there a snail, in its shell, attached to my bathroom ceiling centered symmetrically exactly above my head when I take a shower? I finally seem to have gotten rid of the Raccoon Nation that had invaded my house and now this. I live in the middle of the city. Why is my house like Animal Planet?

Why is George Zimmerman speeding around Texas with a gun in the glove compartment of his car and why did the officer who pulled him over act so nonchalant about it and just give him a warning?

I don’t have the energy to get into the whole sad mess about him killing Trayvon Martin and the prosecution throwing the case in Zimmerman’s favor so that there was not much of a way the jury could find him guilty, but something seems terribly, awfully wrong with him A) eventually getting back the gun with which he killed Trayvon and B) getting a different one in the meantime and having it in his car. Does that not raise any flags for anyone else? He claims he killed Trayvon in self-defense and now, with death threats coming in, he gets another gun so he can kill someone else if he feels threatened?

Which brings me to my next question: Why are Florida and Texas still part of the United States? They obviously have their own laws and everyone in both states is nuts, including — and especially — the ones who make those laws, so why don’t we get rid of them? Let them go it on their own.

So there. See, I have no opinions this week, only these questions. Someone please help me out. Make me quit wondering about all this. Tell me who the damn Kardashians are and let me know peace.