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“Waste Land” is heartfelt, joyous ode to power of art
Documentaries talk about being about the human spirit. They talk about changing lives.
Most of them that make such claims fail at this, Most of them are about social problems so intractable that one is moved not to action, not to reevaluation, but to a mild, gnawing despair.
Lucy Walker’s “Waste Land” is not one of them. “Waste Land” works almost note-perfectly. It is glorious. Fitted with arresting images, unforgettable characters and an elegant electronic soundtrack by Moby, It is the best movie about the importance of art, about the transformative power of art, I have ever seen.
The effortlessly appealing Vik Muniz, who grew up poor in Sao Paolo, Brazil, is about as successful as contemporary, living artists get without being named, say, Damien Hirst or Matthew Barney. The Brooklyn-based artist’s work sells for thousands upon thousands of dollars. He is at a point in his life where he wants to give back to his home.
Muniz is known for using unconventional media to make his art. For example, he rendered some images of the children of sugar plantation workers in sugar, then photographed the images.
In that spirit, he decides to go to go to Jardim Gramacho, the world’s largest landfill, which is located on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro, and render catadores, pickers of recyclable materials, in the plastic and metal and glass and paper which they find. He will photograph the images, sell them and give the money to the workers.
It sounds a little corny, perhaps condescending. It is not.
At Jardim Gramacho, he finds everyday people living graceful, difficult lives. The handsome, charismatic Tiao, leader of the 3,000-strong picker’s union, an obviously intelligent guy who discusses Machiavelli and Nietzsche as he works. Zumbi grabs books to make a local library in the shanty town favela where everyone live. The model-beautiful Isis longs for something better. Everyone here steadfastly refuses to feel sorry for themselves, at least in front of the camera.
Muniz decides have the catadores model classic works of art — the pickers find a tub, and Tiao becomes Jacques-Louis David’s “The Death of Marat.”
As the film progresses, Muniz, himself an open-hearted, charismatic guy, hits some snags. His wife wonders if he’s harming these folks by showing them another life. Will they even be able to return? Is it immoral to make them? Is this a question that should be confronted? Is it better to do nothing and not interfere or to do something and hope for the best?
Walker (“Blindsight,” “Devil’s Playground”) crisply addresses these issues, but never lingers awkwardly. This is exceptionally powerful material that could have become mawkish in lesser hands. Full of rich characters and complex stakes, “Waste Land” weaves them expertly.
“Waste Land” is a testament to the fact that everyone is capable of profound beauty and insight. It is our duty to each other to make that manifest and it is the most joyous thing we can do.
“Waste Land” screens again 7 p.m. Oct. 27 at the Rollins Theater. You need to go.
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