The experience of Video Jam is as compelling as its premise: “an experimental night of short films with a variety of live musical accompaniment”. Filmmakers of any ilk submit silent short films to which a musician, band or poet provides a live audio accompaniment. The filmmakers have no say over what kind of score their pieces get and the films were chosen for the musicians, largely at random.

Sarah Hill is one of four organisers of Video Jam, a graduate from the University of Manchester and now an art foundation student at Manchester Metropolitan University. The original idea came to her from an opening she went to at the Whitworth Gallery, where an animation was scored live by two musicians. She told me how she had explained to another Video Jam organiser: “I know I want to do something with film and music, but I’m not sure what. I’m a filmmaker and he’s a musician, I thought ‘we can do something together’.”

The event was held at Antwerp Mansions, a large building just behind Rusholme’s curry mile. Originally a Belgian consulate, the imposing Victorian structure became a Conservative club in 1924, before being abandoned and then squatted. It’s now a licensed venue and a hangout for artists, musicians and others. Unlike the squat-inspired faux-eclectic aesthetic of commercially successful chains like Trof, Antwerp Mansions seems the real deal. Grand Victorian architecture and original mouldings – the period features remain largely intact – are now home to a mad mix of paintings, pornography, murals and a flea market-esque collection of furniture; the stage itself is made out of vast antique pool tables pushed together.

The team behind Video Jam had laid out tables and chairs with dark red table cloths and tea lights in jam jars were dotted across the room, giving the feeling of a speakeasy during prohibition, or the hideout of a revolutionary fraternity. I half expected maps detailing an upcoming siege to be projected onto the large white sheet that hung on one wall.

The night began with two short films by lecturer Dave Griffiths, the first a cigarette in black and white burning to the filter and the second a collection of white dots and scratches taken from the controversial 1915 film The Birth of a Nation and accompanied by sparse, atonal scratching on an electric guitar by Anton Hunter. From its highly experimental beginnings, the night unfolded as an exploration of film and music without restraint. There were highly abstract and graphically driven pieces, films with a narrative, featuring actors and there were films using found footage, spliced and edited to create new art.

The music was an energetic mix of instruments; guitars, wind, brass, strings, piano and instruments neither I, nor the music buffs I was sat with, could even name. While the majority of the scores worked well, I wished some had been a little more adventurous. In some cases it seemed as though the musicians were content to recreate the films in musical terms, rather than trying to add their own commentary or counterpoint.

The most successful collaborations were always when the music brought something unexpected, challenging and wonderful to the film. Anne Lister’s film The View From Jupiter accompanied by Sophie James was one such success. Although the film itself was beautiful – a series of orbs travelling across the screen – the musical accompaniment added a dimension, which was at once elaborate and captivating and gave the illusion of visual complexity.

Musician Adam Hart, who performed a rich electronic score for a short film of a car journey at night, explained that “when film and music mix together and the result is more than the sum of their parts, it creates an extra dimension. Music and moving image should complement each other”. He conceded that “it’s easier if [the film is] abstract- there’s less of a demand for synchronicity”.

Sarah Hill, whose own film Funes, the Memorious, scored by Michael Seal was another highlight, said “I have a particular interest in filmmakers and musicians who are working in a genuinely experimental way, who don’t worry about convention, and value improvisation; the idea of chance or happy accidents”.

Indeed, what gave the night its feeling of freshness and scope, was the sense of experimentation. When Helen Knowles’ submission was aired – found footage of an unassisted childbirth – it was played twice, once without music as “an experiment”.

The night was not without its hitches; technical errors interrupted a few of the screenings and at one stage, while I spoke to enthusiastic organisers Sarah and Sam Hughes they had to run off to replace the screen, which had been pulled down. But again, the crowd was supportive and their teething issues will no doubt be smoothed during Video Jam’s future at the mansions.

Lucy Allan

Made by and featuring young people from the Wilbraham Estate together with Whalley Range filmmakers REELmcr, the film follows the adventures of a group of modern-day kids transported back in time to August 25 1923, the date of Manchester City’s first match at Maine Road.

Along their journey into the past they meet a range of the first residents of the estate, built as part of Lloyd George’s “Homes Fit for Heroes” programme to provide decent housing for working people in the aftermath of the First World War.

REELmcr director Jacquie Carroll spoke of how the young people who created the film had gained “such a sense of pride at where they’re from” through researching the past history of their estate and interviewing many older residents, some of whom had lived there all their lives. Carroll explained how the estate was “the jewel in the crown” of post-war housing schemes which replaced pre-war slums, one which is “still going strong” 90 years on.

The 20^th Century saw a massive expansion of council house building after the first and second world wars, reaching a peak in the mid-1970s and providing homes for over a third of Britain. Although much of that stock has since been privatised by successive Labour and Conservative governments 18 per cent of the UK’s population still lives in social housing.

Over 50 young people living in the area aged from 13 to 21 worked on the film and an accompanying documentary, In Search of the Great Estate, researching their past with the aid of Salford’s Working Class Movement Library and the People’s History Museum in Manchester. “Most of the group who star in the film had no idea about the heritage of their estate and how important it is”, said Carroll. “But as part of the creation of the film, they’ve been researching the Wilbraham Estate’s past, including interviewing older residents, and I think it’s really opened their eyes.”

“We need to celebrate working class people” she argued, denouncing the “patronising ” and “appalling” ways in which she said many are still portrayed and noting how “the riots seemed to be blamed on people in council housing” in reference to the much-publicised threats to evict social housing tenants convicted in August’s disturbances and their families from their homes.

“The word ‘chav’ really annoys me”, Carroll added, noting how “working people fought for health and education” in battles she believed are often forgotten. “You learn about Kings and Queens but you’re not taught about your social history.”

Richard Goulding

The Great Estate will premiere on 20 October, 7pm at the Whitworth Art Gallery and is sponsored by South Manchester Housing Trust and the Heritage Lottery fund.

Email info@reelmcr.co.uk or call 0161 882 2226 to book your free tickets! 

The film follows Fergus, an ex-soldier and ex-private contractor, as he investigates the suspicious death of his best friend and fellow contractor Frankie on Route Irish, the most dangerous motorway in Iraq.  A dark commentary is offered both on the role of private contractors in modern combat zones and the impact that this has on the men that work for them. Loach gives a bleak vision of those broken by struggling in a complex, contradictory and morally ambiguous world which, at its conclusion, offers no clear pathway to redemption for any of the characters. At times the film makes for bleak and painful viewing.

Despite the subject matter, most of Route Irish was shot in Liverpool. The film veers between the unglamorous spaces of ordinary Liverpudlians’ lives and the sleek, clinical ‘nowhere’ of corporate offices, bars and airports. It shares a familiar aesthetic with many of Loach’s other films and relies on naturalistic shots and sparse use of music. The shattering of the film’s muted terseness by loud noises and scenes of violence amplifies its shocking nature. Indeed, Loach’s condemnation of private security forces and their impact on both their own personnel and Iraqi citizens is made apparent when we encounter the corporate employees who benefit from the chaos, safe in Britain.

Those expecting a clear moral standpoint, however, will be disappointed. The film plunges the audience deep into a morally ambiguous world and provides no clear perspective in its conclusion. The film’s characters are broken by the end. Indeed, the justice which many of the characters, and presumably most viewers, crave appears impossible to obtain within the film’s narrative worldview.

The strength of the script, excellent performances by all of the cast (including ex-soldier Lance Corporal Craig Lundberg who was blinded in Basra in 2007) and the cinematography of long-time Loach collaborator Chris Menges create a truly excellent, if harrowing, piece of socially engaged art. Route Irish is brave enough to ask challenging questions that force society to reflect upon itself whilst being mature enough to know that it must leave the very questions it raises unanswered.

Ben Lear

Route Irish was showing at Cornerhouse in March.

Los colores de la montaña

Running until 27 March, ¡Viva! showcases some of the most interesting, exciting, and important new releases from Spanish and Latin American film producers. 10 films will be screened along with talks, discussions, a Spanish language café, and many other events taking place at the Cornerhouse in collaboration with the Cervantes Institute.

The films on offer range from the poignant Los colores de la montaña, to the comical Gordos and make defining Spanish and Latin American cinema by one theme impossible. Several of the films deal with the violent past and present of Latin American life. These differ sharply from more personal themes explored in Spanish films such as Elisa K. After watching a few of these films it is clear that Spanish-language cinema doesn’t stop at Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth or the films of Pedro Almodovar.

Whether a result of the films’ fresh perspectives on given topics or their striking aesthetics, these films differ greatly from standard Hollywood fare. This probably has as much to do with the choices of the Festival organisers as the characteristics of any kind of national cinema.

Gordos

Without festivals like ¡Viva!, films such as these would be unlikely to reach such a large English-speaking audience. Most of the ‘world cinema’ that we see in the UK consists of films with large advertising budgets or which feature stars familiar to Anglophone audiences. This festival is a chance to encounter films which would generally be off the beaten path of the Amazon or Blockbusters ‘World Cinema’ section.

Perhaps the most interesting and exciting film I have seen so far has been Revolución. The film consists of 10 10-minute shorts examining the centenary of the Mexican Revolution.  The directors, including ‘stars’ such as Gael Garcia Bernal, were given a brief to write and shoot contemporary, fictional stories dealing with the legacies of the Mexican Revolution today. The Mexican Revolution of 1910 led to years of conflict, the overthrow of an oppressive ruling class, and the replacement of this class with the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), a party that only lost its government majority in 1997. The legacy of the revolution, as these shorts demonstrate, is complex and contested.

Revolutión

Most of the shorts focus on the disjunction between the excitement and power of the 1910 popular revolution and its cynical manipulation in the face of today’s hostile global economy. Some of the shorts are abstract and poetic, while others are downright harrowing, featuring scenes involving the mugging of random travelers and an unsettling carnival scene in which poor campesinos are excluded from a veritable monsters ball inhabited by self-centred, affluent, and uncaring Mexicans.

The first two films recognise the strength of Mexican people in the face of adversity. They slyly suggest that, for some, the revolution has never ended. Had they been shown at the end of the series, these shorts might have allowed audiences to leave with some optimism. Instead of highlighting the continuation of the struggles that erupted in 1910, the running order highlights the legacy of failed promises and enduring poverty.

These shorts ask important questions as to the nature of revolution. In light of recent events in Egypt and Libya, perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether regime change is synonymous with revolution or if everyday social resistance and solidarity constitutes the real revolution?

Ben Lear

¡Viva! is running at Cornerhouse until 27 March 2011. For more information see http://www.vivafilmfestival.com/index.php

Photograph: Matthew Knott

The financial crisis of 2008 will stand out as one of the key events of the past few decades. Its effects are still being felt in the form of government cuts and will continue to be felt in the future. Inside Job, directed by Chad Ferguson, sets out to explore the causes of this financial crash. Yet the narrative offered is simplistic and very familiar.

One hour and forty eight minutes in length, Inside Job has the space both to build up a detailed chronology of events which led up to the crisis and to explore its immediate aftermath. The film was released two years after the crash, giving Chad Ferguson the time to interview a host of regulators, academics and other experts; even ‘philanthro-capitalist’ George Soros makes an appearance to condemn unregulated markets. Half of those interviewed are quick to condemn the US financial sector. Yet interviews with ‘those on the inside’, reveal little, instead turning into struggles to produce ‘damning’ pauses or noises of confusion that might reveal the interviewee’s guilt.

The film’s main argument is a routine one. It contends that the greed of the US financial sector, coupled with lax regulation and the support of highly remunerated academics, is to blame for the crisis in which trillions of dollars was wiped off the global economy and millions of people lost homes and jobs. Taking an almost voyeuristic delight in outlining the vices of financial workers, the film indulges in a long discussion on the institutional use of drugs and prostitutes as though this were unusual for those working in large, successful companies or institutions. It implies that these adrenalin-fueled bankers are greedy for cash due to mere personal inclination, rather than the need to create profit for shareholders.

Although a slight nod is given to other more long term factors, these aren’t integrated into the film’s argument. The narrative focuses on the US economy and financial sector, holding up Europe as an example of fiscal stewardship. Indeed the policy suggestions that Matt Damon, the big-budget narrator, puts forward at the end of the film reflect its narrow analysis. Replacing key state advisers and imposing stricter financial regulation alone will not alleviate this global economic crisis and nor could it have averted it.

The film’s main flaw is its economic analysis. While it might be tempting, and morally satisfying, to condemn the financial sector in the strongest possible words, this approach ignores the bigger picture. By ignoring broader economic trends and focusing on ‘bashing the bankers’, a commonplace tendency here in the UK with protests from the G20 in London to UK Uncut, the film’s policy-based argument leaves larger questions of social justice lurking like the proverbial elephant in the room.

Yet film goers are certainly interested in the film’s subject matter. Inside Job has already taken four million dollars at the US box office and it scooped the Oscar for best documentary at the recent Academy Awards. After all, we are all being affected by the ‘solutions’ offered by governments across the world. Ultimately Inside Job is a slick, well filmed documentary. Yet it has an unsurprising and flawed argument at its core.

Ben Lear

Inside Job was running at the Cornerhouse in March.

US troops in Afghanistan. From USARMY KOREA INCOM on flickr

The opening sequence comes from an American Apache Helicopter Gunship hovering above the streets of Baghdad, honing its sights in on a crowd of unarmed Iraqis. After some brief radio exchanges the signal is given: “Light ‘em up.” The ensuing massacre is harrowing viewing, as the sound of gunfire is interspersed with the calm voice saying, “keep firing.”

As is explained later this video was released by WikiLeaks in April 2010. The targets of that helicopter were a couple of Reuters cameramen, supposedly mistaken for ‘insurgents’, but the victims of this “collateral murder” – as it was dubbed by the former US soldier who leaked it – were dozens of civilians, mostly women and children.

The thrust of Pilger’s film is to ask just why stories like these so rarely make it into the mainstream. He starts the story with the father of PR and author of ‘Propaganda’, Edward Bernays, who once said, “The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organised habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society”. This remains as relevant as ever: for as long as you can effectively link symbols together – Saddam Hussein and 9/11 for instance – “the facts don’t matter anymore,” as one commentator puts it.

The toppling of the statue of Saddam: an act of imperial propaganda? Image from Gerard Van der Leun on flickr.

Pilger’s focus is mainly on contemporary conflicts in Iraq, Afghanistan and Palestine, and how the now-ubiquitous government PR machines sell such devastating wars to domestic populations in the West. Fleshing out his unmasking of the real workings of the public relations industry are interviews and accounts from high-level international actors from government and global media.

The strategy of governments in ensuring that the ‘right story’ is reported is shown as consisting of a two-way relationship, which involves the consent of journalists in accepting official versions of facts in exchange for privileged ‘access’ to information and establishment figures.

“Journalists like to be part of the game, part of the inside crowd, and therefore conventional wisdom is the best wisdom,” says former CIA analyst Ray McGovern. The nature of this game is illuminated by Carne Ross, a senior British diplomat in the run-up to the Iraq war, who explains how they would “control access” to government. The extent of this stranglehold on the chain of the press collar is made clear in the frankness of his admission that “if journalists were not particularly supportive of our account we’d freeze them out.”

Another target of Pilger’s analysis is so-called ‘embedded journalism’, the practice whereby reporters follow combat units often deep into site of conflict. These media actors are shown to be little more than government mouthpieces, as the military controls where they go and when, what they see – and in many cases what they are allowed to report. McGovern estimates 80-90 per cent of stories emanating from such sources are “officially inspired.”

But what of the government line that it is committed to spreading democracy around the world? In the words of British historian Mark Curtis, the proper reaction of journalists should be to burst out laughing. He places this in historical context: “There’s simply no history of that at all. Britain has always been on the side of authoritarian, repressive regimes – the Omanis, the Saudis, the Egyptians – these are our allies.”

Yet, as is shown, the selling of the government line and such myths to the public can only be achieved with the willing collusion of those reporting. Former BBC correspondent Rageh Omaar, the Observer’s David Rose and CBS anchor Dan Rather are three who express shame for what they now see as complicity in the invasion and occupation of Iraq. They readily admit how certain stories and facts were ignored when they “didn’t fit the script.”

‘The War You Don’t See’ shows the frightening extent to which the Iraq War was not some one-off event where normally reliable journalists were duped by Tony Blair and Alistair Campbell. Rather, the problems of biased media are systemic and permeate the very fabric of media culture.

Although doubtlessly important, the subject has been done to death a little over the past few years. For while critical media analysis seems to have a mild obsession with war reporting, this bias isn’t confined to government foreign policy and the Foreign Office isn’t the only institution which uses PR. Journalists aren’t only embedded in the military, but in the police, corporate bodies and practically every centre of power that dominates people’s lives. Where are the documentaries exploring these more mundane and everyday media biases?

Independent and investigative journalism which speaks truth to power can still make a difference, Pilger maintains, while projects like WikiLeaks are breaking new ground in the dissemination of raw information and facts for public examination. He dedicates the film to those courageous independent journalists – many of whom have lost their lives in these conflicts – who still work to uncover the brutal realities of modern-day war.

Pilger’s earnest manner comes across at times as sanctimonious and his attempt to pull on the heartstrings is unnecessary, as the material can speak for itself. For seasoned activists ‘The War You Don’t See’ will be covering a lot of old ground, but for others it’s well worth a watch.

Andrew Cox

‘The War You Don’t See’ aired on 14 December but is available here on the ITV Player until 14 January 2011.

Best of The Fest kicked off late in the evening and was bustling with sponsors, students and professionals alike from across the film and creative industries. The winners of the awards were as follows:

Post Production Award
Anthony Corby for his work on ‘Edith’. Leeds Metropolitan University.

Cinematography Award
Anthony Dias, ‘Moths’. London College of Communication, University of the Arts.

Artists Film Award
Dual Winners, Max Kimber from UCA Canterbury for ‘Cusp’ and Matthew Wood from Manchester Metropolitan University for ‘Umbrella Girl’

Animation
Hyoung-Min Choi for ‘The Mask’. University of Wales, Newport

Documentary Award
Olivia Humphreys, ‘Noctuaries’. Goldsmiths University of London.

Screenplay Award
Julian Kerridge and Jonathon Entwistle, ‘Cotton Stones’. The London Film School

Drama Award
Thomas Marshall, ‘All Fried Up’. University of Westminster.

BBC Best of the North Award
Ian Pinder, ‘Edith’. Leeds Metropolitan University.

Corona Extra Audience Award
Thom Godsill ‘Pigeon’. University of Westminster.

Grand Jury Award
Max Kimber, ‘Cusp’. UCA Canterbury.

There were strong contenders for many awards, particularly the Documentary Award taken by Olivia Humphrey’s ‘Noctuaries’- a tale of grief and overcoming loss, which was also contested by ‘The Candidate’ by David Quinn from the University of Salford which focused on a local campaigner who contested the last general election as an independent candidate for the Salford constituency. Ana Pinheiro’s ‘Billie’, a forceful and stirring story of a formerly homeless woman conquering past hardships and getting clean from drugs, was also an excellent documentary and a cogent nominee for the award

The Animation Award, awarded to deserved winner Hyoung-Min Choi for his effortless and moving ‘The Mask’ was by far a standout from the rest of the nominees in the category. On receiving the award he was forthright about the ideas behind the film :“ I think they were expecting something big and complex but I thought I would go with something simple you know”. The Grand Jury Award, won by Max Kimber’s tender and poignant ‘Cusp’ was certainly a deserved winner.

It is fair to say that this year’s Exposures Festival was resounding success, and whilst not as edgy as some people may have wanted it to be, the standard of work was certainly of a high calibre and reflected the growing level of competition among debutants in the film and creative industries. As it continues to grow, the Exposures Festival and its organizers can certainly be satisfied at this year’s accomplishment.

Mohsin Iqbal

The Annexe, a rustic room with wooden beams and bricked walls, is teeming with students and professionals alike from across the film industry. Talking animatedly with one another in anticipation of the coming event, Phil Hawkins gets the event rolling with an introduction of the panel: Paul Kondras, a Production Designer with an illustrious background in theatre; Producer Mercedes Crescenti, who headed production for Current Affairs at the BBC before leaving and starting her own production company; Richard Bodgers, who has composed music for films and advertisements for global companies such as Bentley and Mercedes; and finally Assistant Director Olly Pillon, recently graduated from Manchester Metropolitan University.

A Showreel of Phil’s work is shown to the audience, illustrating clips from his various commercials and films with elaborate background orchestral and choral music bringing the montage to an impressive crescendo that is littered with quotes about his work from venerated peers such as Steven Spielberg – “one of the best new and upcoming directors”. After the show-reel ends, Phil speaks about his first foray into amateur film-making at 13 and subsequently becoming a runner after college. Before that his only professional experience was writing and directing a short film for BBC Manchester. Having worked his way up from runner to director in the commercial industry, he received a Roses Advertising Award for his first commercial in 2004. Since then he has directed films to wide acclaim and is two times winner of Best Director for a Feature at the New York Independent Film Festival. He intimates that the greatest high is not knowing where you are going to be next week”, while the lows of a freelance film-maker include more mundane concerns such as perpetually chasing invoices and waiting for projects.

Phil and the panel are keen to stress the importance of publicizing yourself for work and that there is no substitute for enthusiasm and hard work for breaking into the industry. This is especially echoed by Mercedes, who herself started with the BBC doing work experience. As a recent arrival into the world of directing, Ollie repeats this essential advice, while Richard is eager to emphasize that starting as a runner is one of the best ways to break into the industry as it gives an invaluable opportunity to familiarize yourself with all aspects of filming – from the unseen work of a production company or the more detailed elements of directing.

The conclusion of the evening is a satisfied audience that leaves with well-received advice and cogitations about the film and creative industry – and how they can make their break in Manchester.

Mohsin Iqbal

Eno’s 1983 album was created to accompany Al Reinart’s documentary For All Mankind. Put together painstakingly from hours of original footage of the 1969 Apollo 11 moon landing, the film charts the trajectory of the astronauts from the moment they enter the space shuttle at the take-off platform overlooking Cape Canaveral, to their saunter on earth’s celestial sister and finally to their cushioned landing back on earth’s glittering seas.

Whilst Eno’s original is largely electronic in composition, Icebreaker opt for an interpretation of the piece through organic instrumentation. What they lose from the coldness of tone they make up in rich instrumental texturing, which shows how Eno would influence bands such as Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Sigur Ros; and in conjunction with the mesmerising footage the music conveys a dreamy vision of the landings.

Together the music and the film explore a series of themes that evoke philosophical questions about our place in the universe, time and distance and the aesthetics of technology. It is as much as tribute to the ferocious power of the industrial age as it is to space exploration itself: as the flames of the rocket shoot downwards in a solid ochre column, it is hard not to be awestruck by the centuries of toil and innovation which led to the epoch-making moment.

Throughout the spectacle the enormity of the distance is evoked not only visually, but through the ambience and isolation that the music suggests. The size of the craters and barren hills on the moon, presented in 35mm footage rarely seen on television, is awe-inspiring, and the brilliant luminosity of the moon is brought out all the more against the black abyss of space. During one sequence this combination of the audio and visual portrays a sense of childlike innocence and curiosity which can be seen as a metaphor for humankind in its constant exploration – whether by land, sea and air or internally. As the two astronauts bound across the surface, chasing one another in slow and bouncing steps and sending showers of dust flying, they have the air of children playing. But the sight of one of them falling over onto rocks, coupled with the tin-can technology of the pod in which they land, leaves you with your heart in your mouth; the evident vulnerability in which the two men find themselves strikes an incredible contrast with the boldness and audacity of the venture.

Later on we hear the sweet lilt of a pedal steel guitar (played by BJ Cole) and deliberately used by Eno as a reference to the fact that two of the three astronauts chose to take country music aboard the voyage. A sort of postmodern joke, this musical salute to country – and all its connotations of the cowboy and the unchartered American West – represents the paradox of culture folding in on itself as frontiers expand.

An introductory talk from a curator at the National Museum of Science ensured that the performance was not devoid of political context: the idea of man as an intrepid adventurer, mythologised from the times of the Odyssey to the American Wild West, was shattered when viewing the lunar missions as a symbolic victory of one socio-economic system over another. It feels like what we believed to be audacity was in fact a staggering arrogance. With the landing placed historically, all of the hubris of the cold war and its various races – whether for arms, territory or space – are exposed in a thought-provoking presentation. At times the slowness of the performance’s movement makes it soporific, but you cannot fail to leave the auditorium without having asked yourself that wistful question: will we ever do it again?

Michael Pooler

Image of Nipigon Bay, from: www.flickr.com/photos/er1danus/1016368/

As part of the Coop’s latest campaign, the evening proved to be an insightful reflection of the rising mainstream media torch being shone on tar sands extraction in Canada. The event was joined by guest speakers Chief Al Lameman of the Beaver Lake Cree, legal attorney Jack Woodward, and Paul Monaghan of the Cooperative’s Social Goals and Sustainability.

A Canadian “War Zone”

The film covers the Cooperative’s involvement in a legal battle between the Beaver Lake Cree and the Canadian government including a £53,000 donation to the legal costs. They say that this legal battle may be one of the only barriers preventing runaway environmental disaster on an international scale.

photo by species_snob

In 1876, the Beaver Lake Cree signed a treaty giving ownership of their land to the Albertan government in return of the right to unlimited access to fish, hunt and habitation. The same land is now one of the latest sources of oil. Also known as ‘tar sands’, this type of oil can be extracted via extreme heating of the soil requiring vast areas of deforestation and the production of toxic waste. The process is already causing huge environmental destruction: the Woodland Caribou and Whooping Crane have both dramatically reduced in numbers due to mass removal of their natural habitat; Contamination of surrounding lakes by toxic waste has left many other species threatened; and local habitants claim cancer rates are also on the rise. Attorneys hope to prove that this degradation of the land is in direct breach of the 1876 treaty, since the environmental destruction means that the First Nations peoples cannot fish and hunt as protected by the agreement. The campaign is goes further in its remit, calling for a halt to all current and future investment in tar sands extraction.

“It’s a sad case of greed”- Chief Al Lameman

But this is not just a concern of the Beaver Lake Cree. Not only removing vast areas of the world’s crucial carbon stores in the expansive reduction of Alberta’s Boreal Forests (described as an ‘oxygen tank’ to the world), this form of extraction emits three times as much carbon dioxide as that for conventional oil. With reserves second only to Saudi Arabia, experts fear deleterious consequences both to the region and the planet, should the tar sands be fully exploited.

Currently producing 1.3 million barrels per day, new technologies and development plans from Shell, Total, and BP could rocket production up to 7 million barrels per day, a figure already being granted in licenses.

Paul Monaghan stressed passionately the colossal scale of environmental damage at stake, and his motive in backing the case. “This is next oil rush, and the consequences of it are enormous.” His message was clear: expansion in the tar sands will put us on the brink of uncontrollable runaway global change, and ecological disaster: “This is massive.”

Challenging?

Tar Sands protestors. Taken from Indymedia London: http://london.indymedia.org/articles/4634

Reflecting on the evening Andrew Garrity from Manchester Climate Action said, “it was good that the film showing had a lot of unfamiliar faces in the audience, not normally at events like these – mostly Co-op workers and members”.

However on the subject of the showings financer he added “Sometimes it felt more like an advert for Coop banking than a documentary and didn’t explore the alternative ways to challenge tar sands extraction in the UK and Canada. But it was still interesting.”

Suzie Mitchell

Tar Wars forms part of the Cooperative campaign ‘Toxic Fuels’ in partnership with WWF-UK, which urges to prevent this £250 billion predicted investment in tar sands by 2020. More information on how to join the campaign can be found at www.co-operative.coop/toxicfuels.

This article is from one of the MULE newspaper volunteers who write and distribute 10,000 copies for free in Manchester. To help keep MULE publishing, you can help by subscribing or giving a one-off donation.