newyorker--2020-05-27--Fact-Checking Donald Trump on Twitter Won’t Stop His Demagoguery

One thing we know for sure about Donald Trump is that he doesn ’ t change .
On Tuesday , he was back on Twitter claiming that an expansion of mail-in voting would lead to rampant voter fraud and regurgitating a groundless conspiracy theory that Joe Scarborough , the MSNBC host , was involved in the murder of a former member of his staff , Lori Klausutis , who died in 2001 .
In another Tweet , Trump threatened to close down Twitter and other social-media platforms if they “ silence conservative voices ” —by which he means if they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sorts of lies and smears in the run-up to November .
Trump ’ s demagogic use of social media has been a blight on American democracy for years , of course , but the stakes are now bigger than ever .
With a little more than five months left until the election , he is behind in the polls and struggling to overcome the popular perception that he mishandled the coronavirus pandemic .
The official mortality toll is about to hit a hundred thousand , and , due to uncounted deaths , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In these circumstances , Trump ’ s reëlection prospects hinge on his ability to rewrite history , create diversions , and vilify his political opponents and critics .
Like Squealer , the propagandist pig in George Orwell ’ s “ Animal Farm , ” Trump is asking the citizenry to ignore the evidence of their own eyes and believe made-up tales .
What is different is that Trump is using social media to distribute to his followers their daily diet of disinformation , resentment , and incitement .
On Tuesday morning , when @ @ @ @ @ @ @ little reason to believe that his posts would provoke anything other than the familiar reactions : thousands of angry comments , tens of thousands of likes , and some tut-tuts from his media critics .
The unwillingness of the big social-media platforms to rein him in is so well established that it has descended to the level of a bad joke .
To companies like Twitter and Facebook , politics is a revenue stream , and the stream flows fullest when the politics is bitter and divisive—or , in a word , Trumpian @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Journal reported that Facebook shut down an internal team of researchers after it had warned the company ’ s leadership that the platform ’ s algorithms “ exploit the human brain ’ s attraction to divisiveness.
” Twitter , for its part , has repeatedly promised to remove false and incendiary material , but it has also conspicuously failed to apply its rulebook to the political arsonist in the White House .
On Tuesday , Twitter took a small step in the right direction , by flagging the factual inaccuracy of a pair @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ballots and voter fraud .
Underneath these tweets , it inserted a blue exclamation mark and a link that read , “ Get the facts about mail-in ballots.
” If you click on this link , you land on a page with the headline “ Trump makes unsubstantiated claim that mail-in ballots will lead to voter fraud ” and also links to a series of articles contradicting the President ’ s claims .
The company said that these alerts were in line with a previously announced pledge to apply fact-checking labels to tweets @ @ @ @ @ @ @ some unexplained reason , Twitter didn ’ t flag another Trump tweet , in which he claimed that he had provided the nation ’ s governors with “ unlimited Testing ” for the coronavirus , which also was a blatant lie .
And the company refused a written request from the widower of Lori Klausutis to take down Trump ’ s tweets about his late wife ’ s death , which Trump has used to smear Scarborough , despite the fact that Scarborough was eight hundred miles away when it happened .
Klausutis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ when he was a Republican congressman .
A medical examiner ’ s report said that she died of a blood clot in the brain subsequent to a fall precipitated by heart disease .
Trump picked up on an Internet conspiracy theory that the death was a homicide , and that Scarborough was involved .
“ Did he get away with murder ?
Some people think so , ” Trump wrote a couple weeks ago .
On Saturday , he urged his followers to keep looking into the death of Klausutis , who worked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was a Republican congressman .
On Tuesday , he again referred to Scarborough as “ Psycho Joe , ” adding , “ So many unanswered & obvious questions , but I won ’ t bring them up now !
Law enforcement eventually will ?
” In his letter to Twitter ’ s C.E.O.
, Jack Dorsey , Timothy Klausutis pointed out that the conspiracy theory about his wife ’ s death had caused a great deal of anguish to her family .
Even some loyal Republican voices blanched at Trump promoting it .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ followers who enjoy this , ” the editorial page of the New York Post said .
“ The libs say horrible things about you , go ahead and say terrible things about them !
There is a difference , though , between mocking someone ’ s ratings and hurting an innocent family with the memories of their tragic daughter because of a petty feud.
” Scarborough told the New York Times that Trump ’ s calls for a police investigation of one of his political critics had echoes of Vladimir Putin ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Timothy Klausutis said that , if an ordinary Twitter user like him had posted something so incendiary , he would have been banned from the platform .
Twitter ’ s list of rules explicitly states that users “ may not engage in the targeted harassment of someone , or incite other people to do so.
” And yet Twitter refused to take down Trump ’ s tweets on the flimsy grounds that Scarborough is a public figure .
To an amoral serial offender such as Trump , that is an invitation to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he targets people in the public domain , he can evidently say anything he wants , and amplify any conspiracy theory that appears from the feverish swamps of the alt-right .
In a redux of the 2016 Pizzagate disinformation campaign , Donald Trump , Jr. , recently posted on Instagram a meme that accused Joe Biden of being a pedophile .
Facebook , which owns Instagram , took no action against Trump , Jr. How long before his father joins in ?
If the social-media companies don ’ t do more to meet @ @ @ @ @ @ @ utilities , it probably won ’ t be long .
There is no sewer so vile that Trump won ’ t wade into it , dragging the entire country along .
That ’ s another thing we know about him .

One thing we know for sure about Donald Trump is that he doesn’t change. On Tuesday, he was back on Twitter claiming that an expansion of mail-in voting would lead to rampant voter fraud and regurgitating a groundless conspiracy theory that Joe Scarborough, the MSNBC host, was involved in the murder of a former member of his staff, Lori Klausutis, who died in 2001. In another Tweet, Trump threatened to close down Twitter and other social-media platforms if they “silence conservative voices”—by which he means if they take away his right to spread all sorts of lies and smears in the run-up to November.
Trump’s demagogic use of social media has been a blight on American democracy for years, of course, but the stakes are now bigger than ever. With a little more than five months left until the election, he is behind in the polls and struggling to overcome the popular perception that he mishandled the coronavirus pandemic. The official mortality toll is about to hit a hundred thousand, and, due to uncounted deaths, the real toll is almost certainly higher. In these circumstances, Trump’s reëlection prospects hinge on his ability to rewrite history, create diversions, and vilify his political opponents and critics. Like Squealer, the propagandist pig in George Orwell’s “Animal Farm,” Trump is asking the citizenry to ignore the evidence of their own eyes and believe made-up tales. What is different is that Trump is using social media to distribute to his followers their daily diet of disinformation, resentment, and incitement.
On Tuesday morning, when Trump took to Twitter, he had little reason to believe that his posts would provoke anything other than the familiar reactions: thousands of angry comments, tens of thousands of likes, and some tut-tuts from his media critics. The unwillingness of the big social-media platforms to rein him in is so well established that it has descended to the level of a bad joke. To companies like Twitter and Facebook, politics is a revenue stream, and the stream flows fullest when the politics is bitter and divisive—or, in a word, Trumpian. On Tuesday, the Wall Street Journal reported that Facebook shut down an internal team of researchers after it had warned the company’s leadership that the platform’s algorithms “exploit the human brain’s attraction to divisiveness.” Twitter, for its part, has repeatedly promised to remove false and incendiary material, but it has also conspicuously failed to apply its rulebook to the political arsonist in the White House.
On Tuesday, Twitter took a small step in the right direction, by flagging the factual inaccuracy of a pair of Trump’s tweets about mail-in ballots and voter fraud. Underneath these tweets, it inserted a blue exclamation mark and a link that read, “Get the facts about mail-in ballots.” If you click on this link, you land on a page with the headline “Trump makes unsubstantiated claim that mail-in ballots will lead to voter fraud” and also links to a series of articles contradicting the President’s claims. The company said that these alerts were in line with a previously announced pledge to apply fact-checking labels to tweets that contain misinformation.
But, for some unexplained reason, Twitter didn’t flag another Trump tweet, in which he claimed that he had provided the nation’s governors with “unlimited Testing” for the coronavirus, which also was a blatant lie. And the company refused a written request from the widower of Lori Klausutis to take down Trump’s tweets about his late wife’s death, which Trump has used to smear Scarborough, despite the fact that Scarborough was eight hundred miles away when it happened. Klausutis worked in Scarborough’s Florida office when he was a Republican congressman. A medical examiner’s report said that she died of a blood clot in the brain subsequent to a fall precipitated by heart disease. Trump picked up on an Internet conspiracy theory that the death was a homicide, and that Scarborough was involved. “Did he get away with murder? Some people think so,” Trump wrote a couple weeks ago. On Saturday, he urged his followers to keep looking into the death of Klausutis, who worked in Scarborough’s office when he was a Republican congressman. On Tuesday, he again referred to Scarborough as “Psycho Joe,” adding, “So many unanswered & obvious questions, but I won’t bring them up now! Law enforcement eventually will?”
In his letter to Twitter’s C.E.O., Jack Dorsey, Timothy Klausutis pointed out that the conspiracy theory about his wife’s death had caused a great deal of anguish to her family. Even some loyal Republican voices blanched at Trump promoting it. “We suppose there are some Trump followers who enjoy this,” the editorial page of the New York Post said. “The libs say horrible things about you, go ahead and say terrible things about them! There is a difference, though, between mocking someone’s ratings and hurting an innocent family with the memories of their tragic daughter because of a petty feud.”
Scarborough told the New York Times that Trump’s calls for a police investigation of one of his political critics had echoes of Vladimir Putin’s Russia and Viktor Orbán’s Hungary. Timothy Klausutis said that, if an ordinary Twitter user like him had posted something so incendiary, he would have been banned from the platform. Twitter’s list of rules explicitly states that users “may not engage in the targeted harassment of someone, or incite other people to do so.” And yet Twitter refused to take down Trump’s tweets on the flimsy grounds that Scarborough is a public figure.
To an amoral serial offender such as Trump, that is an invitation to keep at it. As long as he targets people in the public domain, he can evidently say anything he wants, and amplify any conspiracy theory that appears from the feverish swamps of the alt-right. In a redux of the 2016 Pizzagate disinformation campaign, Donald Trump, Jr., recently posted on Instagram a meme that accused Joe Biden of being a pedophile. Facebook, which owns Instagram, took no action against Trump, Jr. How long before his father joins in? If the social-media companies don’t do more to meet their responsibilities as publishers and de-facto public utilities, it probably won’t be long. There is no sewer so vile that Trump won’t wade into it, dragging the entire country along. That’s another thing we know about him.


newyorker--2020-05-27--What to Stream: Rediscovering the Blackwood Brothers, a Pair of Great Documentarians of New York Cit

What to Stream: Rediscovering the Blackwood Brothers, a Pair of Great Documentarians of New York City Life

The brothers Michael and Christian Blackwood , documentary filmmakers , were born in Berlin—Michael in 1934 , Christian in 1942—and came to the United States in 1949 .
( Their original family name was Schwarzwald . )
I was recently digging around for the work that they ’ re best known for—the 1967-68 footage of Thelonious Monk in performance that is prominently featured in Charlotte Zwerin ’ s documentary “ Thelonious Monk : Straight , No Chaser , ” which was released in 1988 .
In the process , I discovered several other films of theirs , available to stream @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Michael Blackwood Productions ) , which deserve recognition as classic documentaries of New York public life .
Michael Blackwood ’ s first film , the short “ Broadway Express , ” from 1959 ( streaming on Kanopy and Vimeo on Demand ) , is an intimate spectacle of the New York subway .
It starts with a conductor in a train yard preparing an A train for its journey to Rockaway .
The movie , filmed mostly during the evening rush hour and late at night , is a nineteen-minute symphony of faces @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
( It ’ s a silent film , featuring spare music by Howard Gilbert . )
Blackwood flings himself into the action , keeping his camera running in the center of a crowd densely packing into a train .
He shows men in straw hats , tightly coiffed women in dresses , and a general trend toward formality in apparel—yet also a diversity of attire among the young that belies easy generalizations .
Blackwood calls attention to some prevalent activities , such as sleeping in the subway ( he filmed many people @ @ @ @ @ @ @ late-night travel ) , and to others that seem to have caught him by surprise , such as a child standing at the open doors between cars to catch the breeze , and a group of people playing cards during their trip .
Then as now , buskers display their talents in transit , and beggars make their way through the cars .
The movie teems with daily dramas : teen-agers in poufy dresses appear headed to a prom ; an elderly woman is teaching a child to read .
It ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ life , and New York ’ s personalities seem to burst forth from the screen .
In 1968 , Christian Blackwood made another great N.Y.C .
documentary , “ Summer in the City , ” which is entirely about the Upper West Side .
Christian ( credited as Schwarzwald ) co-directed with Robert Leacock and conceived the project with the novelist Uwe Johnson , who wrote the voice-over commentary .
( The narration is in German , subtitled ; the movie was made for West German television . )
It ’ s a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with their many subjects—and , as such , it ’ s a remarkable early example of the influence of the participatory direct-cinema ideas developed by Robert Drew and realized by the cinematographer-filmmakers who emerged from his circle , including Albert Maysles and D. A. Pennebaker .
Like them , Blackwood is an extraordinary cinematographer ( he ’ d done some shooting for one of the greatest films of all time , Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet ’ s first feature , “ Not Reconciled , ” from 1965 ) , and , like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ engaged , and discerning camerawork to his personal involvement—and copious discussions—with his film ’ s subjects .
These include participants and activists in a weeklong block party sponsored by the Peace and Freedom Party , residents of an old-age home on West End Avenue , and an elderly man living in isolation and longing for his childhood home in Alabama .
Blackwood spends time with a white family that has moved with their seven young children to a part of the neighborhood in which white people are a minority ( Johnson emphasizes , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their children to private school ) ; he follows two young heroin users and films the squeamish-making specifics of their injections , while they speak freely of their lives .
He also spends time in a police station , speaking with the captain , who acknowledges the neighborhood ’ s frustrations with rising crime , and filming the day ’ s patrolmen ( and they ’ re all men , and all white ) at their daily muster .
The depth of “ Summer in the City ” comes from its extended dialogue @ @ @ @ @ @ @ German , in voice-over ) , as in an extraordinary sequence centered on Jeannette Washington , who is the leader of a protest outside City Hall , mainly by black women , against cuts in welfare benefits and against the so-called urban renewal around Lincoln Center , which in the nineteen-sixties was driving many poor and black people out of the neighborhood .
Blackwood films from within the crowd of protesters—and shows monstrous incidents of police violence , which Johnson , in his commentary , describes as “ police terror ” that TV @ @ @ @ @ @ @ evening .
( There were , in fact , broadcast crews on hand at the time . )
Blackwood also speaks at length with Washington in her apartment , as she discusses the large-scale goals and local specifics of her effort to create a political movement .
( Johnson ’ s commentary emphasizes the obvious tension between the neighborhood ’ s white , black , and Puerto Rican residents , the endemic racism and over-all political context that underlies it . )
Some of Blackwood ’ s portraiture is solely and deftly visual @ @ @ @ @ @ @ windows in a handful of buildings , which he films with darting pans and tilts .
He displays the vigorous activity of children—older ones playing baseball in a schoolyard , younger ones gathering on the stoops , still others hanging around on their fire escapes and looking into the street .
As he films the neighborhood ’ s teeming public life , some people hide their faces from the camera ; others delight in its presence and share and overshare exuberantly with the filmmakers .
Some of the participants display to Blackwood ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was rarely seen in 1968 .
Blackwood films a drag pageant ( unfortunately , Johnson ’ s commentary here overwhelms the drama of the competition ) and then follows the contestants and their fans onto the sidewalk outside the ballroom , where they contest and dispute the results .
Two trans women admit the filmmakers into their home and let themselves be filmed , with a candor that was hardly to be found in the American cinema at the time .
What sent me down the Blackwood brothers rabbit hole was the quest @ @ @ @ @ @ @ instead , I found something altogether different , and revelatory : another 1968 film that they made , about Thelonious Monk , “ Monk , ” a.k.a .
“ Monk—A Portrait of the Legendary Jazz Musician ” ( streaming on Kanopy and Vimeo on Demand ) .
It ’ s a two-part film , nearly two hours long , originally made for German television .
Michael Blackwood produced it ; Christian shot it .
But it fell into oblivion , and the brothers ’ thirteen hours of footage—of Monk onstage , backstage , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , in the street , in transit , and even in his hotel room with his wife , Nellie—was later excerpted in Zwerin ’ s famous Monk documentary , “ Straight , No Chaser.
” Unlike Zwerin ’ s film , the Blackwoods ’ documentary features nothing but their own footage of Monk and company on tour , at work , and in private—no added interviews , nobody else ’ s archival footage , no additional musicians ’ performances , no voice-over commentary , no layering of illustrative newsreel footage or historical information @ @ @ @ @ @ @ brothers film .
The result is something much more immersive .
Where Zwerin sketches Monk ’ s life , the Blackwoods take you inside it .
Christian Blackwood ’ s cinematography is a major source of the movie ’ s thrill .
He records extended takes of performances : Monk ’ s quartet ( with Charlie Rouse , Larry Gales , and Ben Riley ) in the first part of the film ; in the second , the group expanded to an octet , with four notables ( Ray Copeland , Johnny Griffin @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) , for the European tour .
What emerges above all is an artist whose confrontations with the practical side of music , from studio recording to international travel , offer constant stress—and whose daily life in New York , private conversations , and distinctive way of dealing with that stress appear continuous with his music itself .

The brothers Michael and Christian Blackwood, documentary filmmakers, were born in Berlin—Michael in 1934, Christian in 1942—and came to the United States in 1949. (Their original family name was Schwarzwald.) I was recently digging around for the work that they’re best known for—the 1967-68 footage of Thelonious Monk in performance that is prominently featured in Charlotte Zwerin’s documentary “Thelonious Monk: Straight, No Chaser,” which was released in 1988. In the process, I discovered several other films of theirs, available to stream (on Vimeo, posted there by Michael Blackwood Productions), which deserve recognition as classic documentaries of New York public life.
Michael Blackwood’s first film, the short “Broadway Express,” from 1959 (streaming on Kanopy and Vimeo on Demand), is an intimate spectacle of the New York subway. It starts with a conductor in a train yard preparing an A train for its journey to Rockaway. The movie, filmed mostly during the evening rush hour and late at night, is a nineteen-minute symphony of faces and gestures, of styles and habits. (It’s a silent film, featuring spare music by Howard Gilbert.) Blackwood flings himself into the action, keeping his camera running in the center of a crowd densely packing into a train. He shows men in straw hats, tightly coiffed women in dresses, and a general trend toward formality in apparel—yet also a diversity of attire among the young that belies easy generalizations. Blackwood calls attention to some prevalent activities, such as sleeping in the subway (he filmed many people, seemingly commuters, dozing during their late-night travel), and to others that seem to have caught him by surprise, such as a child standing at the open doors between cars to catch the breeze, and a group of people playing cards during their trip. Then as now, buskers display their talents in transit, and beggars make their way through the cars. The movie teems with daily dramas: teen-agers in poufy dresses appear headed to a prom; an elderly woman is teaching a child to read. It’s a haunting, anecdotal cross-section of city life, and New York’s personalities seem to burst forth from the screen.
In 1968, Christian Blackwood made another great N.Y.C. documentary, “Summer in the City,” which is entirely about the Upper West Side. Christian (credited as Schwarzwald) co-directed with Robert Leacock and conceived the project with the novelist Uwe Johnson, who wrote the voice-over commentary. (The narration is in German, subtitled; the movie was made for West German television.) It’s a film of relationships—of the filmmakers’ connections with their many subjects—and, as such, it’s a remarkable early example of the influence of the participatory direct-cinema ideas developed by Robert Drew and realized by the cinematographer-filmmakers who emerged from his circle, including Albert Maysles and D. A. Pennebaker. Like them, Blackwood is an extraordinary cinematographer (he’d done some shooting for one of the greatest films of all time, Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet’s first feature, “Not Reconciled,” from 1965), and, like them, he joins his vigorous, engaged, and discerning camerawork to his personal involvement—and copious discussions—with his film’s subjects. These include participants and activists in a weeklong block party sponsored by the Peace and Freedom Party, residents of an old-age home on West End Avenue, and an elderly man living in isolation and longing for his childhood home in Alabama. Blackwood spends time with a white family that has moved with their seven young children to a part of the neighborhood in which white people are a minority (Johnson emphasizes, on the soundtrack, that they send their children to private school); he follows two young heroin users and films the squeamish-making specifics of their injections, while they speak freely of their lives. He also spends time in a police station, speaking with the captain, who acknowledges the neighborhood’s frustrations with rising crime, and filming the day’s patrolmen (and they’re all men, and all white) at their daily muster.
A still from the N.Y.C.-centered documentary, from 1968, “Summer in the City.” Photograph Courtesy Michael Blackwood Productions
The depth of “Summer in the City” comes from its extended dialogue (some of which Johnson translates into German, in voice-over), as in an extraordinary sequence centered on Jeannette Washington, who is the leader of a protest outside City Hall, mainly by black women, against cuts in welfare benefits and against the so-called urban renewal around Lincoln Center, which in the nineteen-sixties was driving many poor and black people out of the neighborhood. Blackwood films from within the crowd of protesters—and shows monstrous incidents of police violence, which Johnson, in his commentary, describes as “police terror” that TV viewers will see on the news that evening. (There were, in fact, broadcast crews on hand at the time.) Blackwood also speaks at length with Washington in her apartment, as she discusses the large-scale goals and local specifics of her effort to create a political movement. (Johnson’s commentary emphasizes the obvious tension between the neighborhood’s white, black, and Puerto Rican residents, the endemic racism and over-all political context that underlies it.)
Some of Blackwood’s portraiture is solely and deftly visual, including scenes of people at open windows in a handful of buildings, which he films with darting pans and tilts. He displays the vigorous activity of children—older ones playing baseball in a schoolyard, younger ones gathering on the stoops, still others hanging around on their fire escapes and looking into the street. As he films the neighborhood’s teeming public life, some people hide their faces from the camera; others delight in its presence and share and overshare exuberantly with the filmmakers. Some of the participants display to Blackwood’s camera a side of life that was rarely seen in 1968. Blackwood films a drag pageant (unfortunately, Johnson’s commentary here overwhelms the drama of the competition) and then follows the contestants and their fans onto the sidewalk outside the ballroom, where they contest and dispute the results. Two trans women admit the filmmakers into their home and let themselves be filmed, with a candor that was hardly to be found in the American cinema at the time.
What sent me down the Blackwood brothers rabbit hole was the quest for outtakes from their Monk footage; instead, I found something altogether different, and revelatory: another 1968 film that they made, about Thelonious Monk, “Monk,” a.k.a. “Monk—A Portrait of the Legendary Jazz Musician” (streaming on Kanopy and Vimeo on Demand). It’s a two-part film, nearly two hours long, originally made for German television. Michael Blackwood produced it; Christian shot it. But it fell into oblivion, and the brothers’ thirteen hours of footage—of Monk onstage, backstage, in rehearsal, in the recording studio, in the street, in transit, and even in his hotel room with his wife, Nellie—was later excerpted in Zwerin’s famous Monk documentary, “Straight, No Chaser.” Unlike Zwerin’s film, the Blackwoods’ documentary features nothing but their own footage of Monk and company on tour, at work, and in private—no added interviews, nobody else’s archival footage, no additional musicians’ performances, no voice-over commentary, no layering of illustrative newsreel footage or historical information to contextualize the concert tours that the brothers film. The result is something much more immersive. Where Zwerin sketches Monk’s life, the Blackwoods take you inside it.
Christian Blackwood’s cinematography is a major source of the movie’s thrill. He records extended takes of performances: Monk’s quartet (with Charlie Rouse, Larry Gales, and Ben Riley) in the first part of the film; in the second, the group expanded to an octet, with four notables (Ray Copeland, Johnny Griffin, Jimmy Cleveland, and Phil Woods), for the European tour. What emerges above all is an artist whose confrontations with the practical side of music, from studio recording to international travel, offer constant stress—and whose daily life in New York, private conversations, and distinctive way of dealing with that stress appear continuous with his music itself.


newyorker--2020-05-27--The Death of Antonio Bolívar, an Indigenous Elder in the Amazon Rainforest

On the last Sunday of April , in the small city of Leticia , Colombia , a thirty-eight-year-old security guard named Cristian Bolívar was at work when he received a phone call from his wife , who had some bad news .
“ Your dad is still very ill , ” she said .
Antonio Bolívar , at seventy-five , was a respected indigenous elder , and for three days he had been suffering chills and a high fever , which the family had been trying to lower with liquids , soothing baths , and acetaminophen .
By that Sunday @ @ @ @ @ @ @ breathing .
“ I left my post right away , ” Cristian told me .
He rode his motorbike to his father ’ s small wooden house .
Antonio ’ s temperature had reached a hundred and four degrees , so Cristian called an ambulance , which , he said , took three hours to arrive .
Antonio turned to Cerina , his partner of twenty-eight years , and said , “ Sweetheart , I am just going to the doctor to get some antibiotics .
I ’ ll be right back.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , at the southern tip of Colombia , bordering Brazil and Peru , the two countries with the highest number of COVID-19 cases in Latin America .
The number of reported cases in the Amazon had been increasing since mid-March , especially in Manaus , Brazil , and Iquitos , Peru .
In Manaus , a city of more than two million , which has been recording up to a hundred and thirty fatalities a day ( up from its normal toll of twenty to thirty-five ) , the dead are being buried @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which has a population of half a million people , hospitals do not have enough beds .
The three countries are divided by the Amazon , but the river towns are closely connected to one another .
“ The sugar we buy is from Peru , and the rice we eat is from Brazil , ” a doctor on the Colombian side told me .
The governments of the three countries have announced plans to protect those living in the Amazon , but so far few measures have been implemented .
( President @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Brazil is making the process more difficult for the other countries . )
The first confirmed patient in Leticia was reported just a week before Antonio Bolívar got sick .
Within a month , there were more than a thousand confirmed cases .
The city , with a population of about fifty thousand , has only a small private clinic and a public facility , the San Rafael hospital ; between them , there are barely more than a hundred beds and eleven ventilators .
There is no I.C.U .
in Leticia , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ all the way to Bogotá to be tested for COVID-19 .
Antonio Bolívar was admitted to San Rafael that Sunday night .
Cristian and Cerina went to the hospital each day but were not allowed to see him .
“ They told me he was doing fine , eating well and joking with the staff , ” Cristian said .
But , on the night of April 30th , a neighbor came to the house and told him , “ Your father just passed away.
” She had seen the news on social @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for COVID-19 , but , given his symptoms , the doctors believed that he had been infected by the coronavirus .
They told Cristian that Antonio had gone into cardiorespiratory arrest , and they could not revive him .
The following morning , a hearse took his casket to the town cemetery , where the mayor had ordered the building of more vaults .
Cristian rode behind on his motorbike , to the entry of the cemetery , and watched as a forensic team buried his father .
The indigenous communities in Leticia @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , so no other mourners were present .
“ That was the saddest part , ” Cerina told me .
“ I used to tell him , when he was still alive , that if he passed away , I would throw him a big funeral , like the one he deserved.
” Antonio Bolívar had been a celebrity in the Amazon since 2016 , when he appeared in “ Embrace of the Serpent , ” a movie by the Colombian director Ciro Guerra .
( It can be streamed on the platform @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : Amazon Prime . )
Set in the early twentieth century , the movie portrays the exploitation of indigenous groups by rubber companies and Capuchin missionaries .
Bolívar played Karamakate , a member of a fictional group called the Cohiuano , which had been almost completely wiped out .
The Times ’ review noted that “ he is no innocent , noble savage but an angry , morally complex individual with a heart full of grief.
” In his first scene , Karamakate is drawing what looks like a jaguar on a large @ @ @ @ @ @ @ loincloth and a necklace made of crocodile teeth .
His calm expression changes when Evan ( Brionne Davis ) , a botanist , arrives in a small canoe .
( The movie is inspired by the travel diaries of the American botanist Richard Evans Schultes and the German ethnographer Theodor Koch-Grunberg . )
Evan wants Karamakate to help him find a rare medicinal plant , the yakruna .
“ You devote your life to plants ?
” Karamakate asks him .
“ That ’ s the most reasonable thing I ’ ve heard @ @ @ @ @ @ @ help Evan in exchange for some coca leaves , to cook into mambe , which some indigenous groups chew for spiritual and medicinal reasons .
“ I forgot mambe existed .
Now I don ’ t know how to make it , ” he admits .
Karamakate , it turns out , is on a quest : he has not just forgotten how to make mambe ; he has lost a spiritual connection with nature .
“ These rocks used to talk to me , ” he says .
“ They answered my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ My memories are gone .
Rocks , trees , animals , they all went silent .
.
.
.
Now I am empty.
” The film was an international success .
It won awards at Cannes and Sundance , and became the first Colombian film ever nominated for an Oscar .
( Bolívar attended the ceremony in Los Angeles , and videos show him on the red carpet wearing an elegant black suit , a necklace , and a headdress made of colorful feathers . )
But perhaps what ’ s most striking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s life resembles Bolívar ’ s .
“ When we realized that he was going to act with us , we shaped the character to him , to his experience , to his knowledge , ” Guerra told me recently .
Bolívar “ was one of the last original Ocaina , ” Cristian explained .
In the late nineteenth century , the Ocaina were an indigenous group in the western Amazon region of Putumayo .
Researchers estimate that , by 1909 , there were at least two thousand people who identified as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hundred , and only fifty who speak the Ocaina language .
The Ocaina , along with six other indigenous groups , call themselves “ the People of the Center , ” and they share a tragic history .
At the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth , a British rubber company enslaved , tortured , and killed many of them .
“ It must always be borne in mind that the Indian is no party to the contract , ” Roger Casement , an Irish diplomat working on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , wrote , in 1910 .
“ He is compelled by brutal and wholly uncontrolled force—by being hunted and caught—by floggings , by chaining up , by long periods of imprisonment and starvation , to agree to ‘ work ’ for the Company.
” “ Only a few Ocainas remained after that , ” the anthropologist Juan Alvaro Echeverri told me .
Although most of the survivors live in Peru now , a few remain in the Colombian Amazon .
Antonio Bolívar was orphaned at a very young age , and lived in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ belonging to the People of the Center .
But he identified as an Ocaina , despite the fact that , like Karamakate , he was forgetting his roots .
“ He had no one to speak his language with , ” Echeverri , who knew Bolívar , told me .
He recalled that one of the few women who still spoke the Ocaina language fluently in Leticia would sometimes try to speak with Bolívar , but all he could say to her was “ I can ’ t understand.
” Bolívar ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was intact .
Cristian recalled that the only time his father grounded him was when he cut all the leaves off one of his medicinal plants .
Luis Ernesto González , a friend of Bolívar ’ s , remembers talking with him about a fishing method that employed barbasco , a poisonous plant .

Antonio Bolívar, who appeared in an acclaimed Colombian film, “was one of the last original Ocaina,” his son said. Photograph by Mauricio Duenas Castaneda / ZUMA
On the last Sunday of April, in the small city of Leticia, Colombia, a thirty-eight-year-old security guard named Cristian Bolívar was at work when he received a phone call from his wife, who had some bad news. “Your dad is still very ill,” she said. Antonio Bolívar, at seventy-five, was a respected indigenous elder, and for three days he had been suffering chills and a high fever, which the family had been trying to lower with liquids, soothing baths, and acetaminophen. By that Sunday afternoon, he was also having trouble breathing. “I left my post right away,” Cristian told me. He rode his motorbike to his father’s small wooden house. Antonio’s temperature had reached a hundred and four degrees, so Cristian called an ambulance, which, he said, took three hours to arrive. Antonio turned to Cerina, his partner of twenty-eight years, and said, “Sweetheart, I am just going to the doctor to get some antibiotics. I’ll be right back.”
Leticia is situated in the Amazon rain forest, at the southern tip of Colombia, bordering Brazil and Peru, the two countries with the highest number of COVID-19 cases in Latin America. The number of reported cases in the Amazon had been increasing since mid-March, especially in Manaus, Brazil, and Iquitos, Peru. In Manaus, a city of more than two million, which has been recording up to a hundred and thirty fatalities a day (up from its normal toll of twenty to thirty-five), the dead are being buried in mass graves. In Iquitos, which has a population of half a million people, hospitals do not have enough beds. The three countries are divided by the Amazon, but the river towns are closely connected to one another. “The sugar we buy is from Peru, and the rice we eat is from Brazil,” a doctor on the Colombian side told me.
The governments of the three countries have announced plans to protect those living in the Amazon, but so far few measures have been implemented. (President Jair Bolsonaro’s reckless response in Brazil is making the process more difficult for the other countries.) The first confirmed patient in Leticia was reported just a week before Antonio Bolívar got sick. Within a month, there were more than a thousand confirmed cases. The city, with a population of about fifty thousand, has only a small private clinic and a public facility, the San Rafael hospital; between them, there are barely more than a hundred beds and eleven ventilators. There is no I.C.U. in Leticia, and doctors have to send patient samples all the way to Bogotá to be tested for COVID-19.
Antonio Bolívar was admitted to San Rafael that Sunday night. Cristian and Cerina went to the hospital each day but were not allowed to see him. “They told me he was doing fine, eating well and joking with the staff,” Cristian said. But, on the night of April 30th, a neighbor came to the house and told him, “Your father just passed away.” She had seen the news on social media.
Bolívar had not been tested for COVID-19, but, given his symptoms, the doctors believed that he had been infected by the coronavirus. They told Cristian that Antonio had gone into cardiorespiratory arrest, and they could not revive him. The following morning, a hearse took his casket to the town cemetery, where the mayor had ordered the building of more vaults. Cristian rode behind on his motorbike, to the entry of the cemetery, and watched as a forensic team buried his father. The indigenous communities in Leticia and the surrounding areas were under quarantine, so no other mourners were present. “That was the saddest part,” Cerina told me. “I used to tell him, when he was still alive, that if he passed away, I would throw him a big funeral, like the one he deserved.”
Antonio Bolívar had been a celebrity in the Amazon since 2016, when he appeared in “Embrace of the Serpent,” a movie by the Colombian director Ciro Guerra. (It can be streamed on the platform that took the region’s name: Amazon Prime.) Set in the early twentieth century, the movie portrays the exploitation of indigenous groups by rubber companies and Capuchin missionaries. Bolívar played Karamakate, a member of a fictional group called the Cohiuano, which had been almost completely wiped out. The Times’ review noted that “he is no innocent, noble savage but an angry, morally complex individual with a heart full of grief.”
In his first scene, Karamakate is drawing what looks like a jaguar on a large rock by a river, wearing a loincloth and a necklace made of crocodile teeth. His calm expression changes when Evan (Brionne Davis), a botanist, arrives in a small canoe. (The movie is inspired by the travel diaries of the American botanist Richard Evans Schultes and the German ethnographer Theodor Koch-Grunberg.) Evan wants Karamakate to help him find a rare medicinal plant, the yakruna. “You devote your life to plants?” Karamakate asks him. “That’s the most reasonable thing I’ve heard a white say.”
Karamakate agrees to help Evan in exchange for some coca leaves, to cook into mambe, which some indigenous groups chew for spiritual and medicinal reasons. “I forgot mambe existed. Now I don’t know how to make it,” he admits. Karamakate, it turns out, is on a quest: he has not just forgotten how to make mambe; he has lost a spiritual connection with nature. “These rocks used to talk to me,” he says. “They answered my questions. The line is broken. My memories are gone. Rocks, trees, animals, they all went silent. . . . Now I am empty.”
The film was an international success. It won awards at Cannes and Sundance, and became the first Colombian film ever nominated for an Oscar. (Bolívar attended the ceremony in Los Angeles, and videos show him on the red carpet wearing an elegant black suit, a necklace, and a headdress made of colorful feathers.) But perhaps what’s most striking about the film is how much Karamakate’s life resembles Bolívar’s. “When we realized that he was going to act with us, we shaped the character to him, to his experience, to his knowledge,” Guerra told me recently.
What’s perhaps most striking about the film “Embrace of the Serpent” is how much the life of the character played by Antonio Bolívar resembled his own. Photograph from Alamy
Bolívar “was one of the last original Ocaina,” Cristian explained. In the late nineteenth century, the Ocaina were an indigenous group in the western Amazon region of Putumayo. Researchers estimate that, by 1909, there were at least two thousand people who identified as Ocainas. Now there are just two hundred, and only fifty who speak the Ocaina language. The Ocaina, along with six other indigenous groups, call themselves “the People of the Center,” and they share a tragic history. At the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth, a British rubber company enslaved, tortured, and killed many of them. “It must always be borne in mind that the Indian is no party to the contract,” Roger Casement, an Irish diplomat working on a special report for the British government, wrote, in 1910. “He is compelled by brutal and wholly uncontrolled force—by being hunted and caught—by floggings, by chaining up, by long periods of imprisonment and starvation, to agree to ‘work’ for the Company.”
“Only a few Ocainas remained after that,” the anthropologist Juan Alvaro Echeverri told me. Although most of the survivors live in Peru now, a few remain in the Colombian Amazon. Antonio Bolívar was orphaned at a very young age, and lived in Leticia with the Witoto, another group belonging to the People of the Center. But he identified as an Ocaina, despite the fact that, like Karamakate, he was forgetting his roots. “He had no one to speak his language with,” Echeverri, who knew Bolívar, told me. He recalled that one of the few women who still spoke the Ocaina language fluently in Leticia would sometimes try to speak with Bolívar, but all he could say to her was “I can’t understand.” Bolívar’s knowledge of botanical traditions, however, was intact. Cristian recalled that the only time his father grounded him was when he cut all the leaves off one of his medicinal plants. Luis Ernesto González, a friend of Bolívar’s, remembers talking with him about a fishing method that employed barbasco, a poisonous plant.
Friends and colleagues describe Bolívar as having a particular relation to the rain forest. “I ask the world to please stop drilling oil in the Amazon,” he said, in a speech at Cannes. Last year, he appeared in the Netflix series “Green Frontier,” which chronicles the struggles of an indigenous couple to protect their culture. He asked his acting coach, Ana Isabel Velásquez, to “respect nature” before each scene. “We would talk to the river or the trees, telling them, ‘I am coming in. I promise I will be respectful,’ ” she told me last week. “It was something short, but we needed to ask permission, to get some protection.” She would do it mentally, and he would do it sometimes chewing mambe. “We need this for the scene to be perfect,” he told her.
Nelly Kuiru, a forty-three-year-old Witoto woman, opened a film school in Leticia, and she told me that Bolívar was one of the first to volunteer to help with her project. “He was there to guide us,” she said. “Elders like him are the ones telling us the stories that we write. They guide us on what we should be saying, on how we should be saying it.” In their last conversations, she said, “He would say ‘We have to fight to not lose our identity as a people, to not disappear like my own people did.’ ”
Juan Pablo Chiquiza is a twenty-five-year-old native of Leticia who recently graduated from medical school in Bogotá. With two other doctors, he is in charge of attending to almost ten thousand people, many of whom belong to twenty-two indigenous communities in Colombia’s Amazon forest. Chiquiza is based in the village of Puerto Nariño, a two-hour boat ride upriver from Leticia. “The first time I got here, I thought this looked like a prison,” he told me, about the village’s only hospital. A public facility, it has nine beds for adult patients, four for children, and six oxygen tanks. Mold grows on the walls, and the ceiling is falling in in some places. When we spoke, two COVID-19 cases had been confirmed in Puerto Nariño; one of the people who tested positive was an indigenous man in his eighties. Chiquiza was able to send him by boat to San Rafael hospital, in Leticia, but the man died soon after he arrived. “We suspect many more here have the virus,” Chiquiza said. (A week later, he told me that at least twenty-six new cases had been reported.)


newyorker--2020-05-27--Daily Cartoon: Wednesday, May 27th

Daily Cartoon: Wednesday, May 27th

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newyorker--2020-05-27--Trump Demands That Republican Convention Move from North Carolina to Moscow

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —In an escalation of his spat with Roy Cooper , the Democratic governor of @ @ @ @ @ is demanding that the 2020 Republican National Convention relocate from Charlotte to Moscow .
“ @ @ @ @ @ every step of the way , and meanwhile Moscow has always been very helpful to @ @ @ @ @ , in one of a series of early-morning tweets .
Additionally , Trump argued , @ @ @ @ @ Moscow would save the Republicans millions in airfare .
“ The most important people working @ @ @ @ @ already be there , ” he tweeted .
Finally , he claimed , Moscow boasts @ @ @ @ @ that sad city of losers , Charlotte.
” “ I have fantastic memories of the @ @ @ @ @ wrote .

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—In an escalation of his spat with Roy Cooper, the Democratic governor of North Carolina, Donald Trump is demanding that the 2020 Republican National Convention relocate from Charlotte to Moscow.
“North Carolina has been difficult every step of the way, and meanwhile Moscow has always been very helpful to me,” Trump wrote, in one of a series of early-morning tweets.
Additionally, Trump argued, moving the R.N.C. to Moscow would save the Republicans millions in airfare. “The most important people working on our 2020 campaign will already be there,” he tweeted.
Finally, he claimed, Moscow boasts far better accommodations than “that sad city of losers, Charlotte.”
“I have fantastic memories of the Moscow Ritz,” Trump wrote.


newyorker--2020-05-28--What’s a “Pantry Staple”?: True Stories from the Cluelessly Quarantined

Lauren , 36 : I remember scrolling through this Melissa Clark recipe on the New York Times Web site .
It was for some kind of pasta that uses “ pantry staples.
” At first , I thought , Great—maybe this recipe would call for three pieces of spaghetti , a dry ball of raisins , and cough syrup , which is what I usually keep in my pantry .
But as I continued reading I realized that my pantry staples were not what this recipe required .
Then I blacked out .
Lane , 33 : That a recipe @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , in your apartment—I mean , I ’ d heard of it happening , but .
.
.
not in my lifetime .
James , 45 : In all these recipes , there were so many anchovies .
I read that when I sautéed the anchovies in oil , they would “ melt.
” I was uncomfortable with the idea of melting fish , but I liked that they could lend pasta some umami richness .
The question became : Why had I not put any anchovies in my spaghetti until now ?
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ this ingredient to pasta , in their homes , all around the country ?
The thought was staggering .
Carmen , 27 : In the cabinet above my sink , I had a can of pinto beans .
I also had baking powder from 2007 , when I got this idea to make cinnamon scones but gave up because then I would have to wash a lot of dishes .
When I realized that I could no longer go outside and buy a prepared salad any time I was hungry , I got @ @ @ @ @ @ @ beans .
The can was bulging at the sides and I wondered , Is that bad ?
Lee , 50 : I was going to make this stew I found online that looked pretty good .
It said you could use what you had on hand , so I went through the storage bucket that I keep above my refrigerator .
Soon enough , I discovered a yeast packet .
I also found popsicle molds , along with some actual mold .
I mixed these up in a bowl .
Would I make @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t think so .
Taylor , 32 : As I kept reading recipes for meals you could make with “ pantry staples , ” it dawned on me that Sam Sifton , Alison Roman , Samin Nosrat—all these recipe developers I was getting to know—were talking about the same thing , a sort of storage system for food .
Maybe in a closet , or a series of cabinets .
The idea is that you ’ re not eating the food right away , but it is there .
It might be in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ because it seems that there are multiple types of flour and you shouldn ’ t mix them up .
I did a Google search for pantries and saw that some pantries have doors .
One pantry I saw even had a drawer !
Ari , 40 : Apparently , pantries contain food that is “ shelf-stable , ” and I ’ m not talking about the paper plate that I folded up and put under my bookshelf to keep it steady .
Liz , 25 : I was going to try making this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ all I had were Honey Nut Cheerios .
I poured some into a bowl instead .
It was almost like having the bean soup .
Tamar , 31 : I felt so inspired by these pantry recipes that I went out to buy lentils , capers , tuna , tahini , sardines , giant white beans , tomato paste , farro , artichoke hearts , and something called grapeseed oil .
But then I got home and was , like , “ Oh , my God , what have I done ?
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ things.
” But the good thing about pantry staples is that you don ’ t have to eat them .
They can sit on your shelf .
Sometimes forever .

Lauren, 36: I remember scrolling through this Melissa Clark recipe on the New York Times Web site. It was for some kind of pasta that uses “pantry staples.” At first, I thought, Great—maybe this recipe would call for three pieces of spaghetti, a dry ball of raisins, and cough syrup, which is what I usually keep in my pantry. But as I continued reading I realized that my pantry staples were not what this recipe required. Then I blacked out.
Lane, 33: That a recipe would assume you have the ingredients already, in your apartment—I mean, I’d heard of it happening, but . . . not in my lifetime.
James, 45: In all these recipes, there were so many anchovies. I read that when I sautéed the anchovies in oil, they would “melt.” I was uncomfortable with the idea of melting fish, but I liked that they could lend pasta some umami richness. The question became: Why had I not put any anchovies in my spaghetti until now? And how many people were already adding this ingredient to pasta, in their homes, all around the country? The thought was staggering.
Carmen, 27: In the cabinet above my sink, I had a can of pinto beans. I also had baking powder from 2007, when I got this idea to make cinnamon scones but gave up because then I would have to wash a lot of dishes. When I realized that I could no longer go outside and buy a prepared salad any time I was hungry, I got out my stepladder and pulled down those beans. The can was bulging at the sides and I wondered, Is that bad?
Lee, 50: I was going to make this stew I found online that looked pretty good. It said you could use what you had on hand, so I went through the storage bucket that I keep above my refrigerator. Soon enough, I discovered a yeast packet. I also found popsicle molds, along with some actual mold. I mixed these up in a bowl. Would I make this stew again? I don’t think so.
Taylor, 32: As I kept reading recipes for meals you could make with “pantry staples,” it dawned on me that Sam Sifton, Alison Roman, Samin Nosrat—all these recipe developers I was getting to know—were talking about the same thing, a sort of storage system for food. Maybe in a closet, or a series of cabinets. The idea is that you’re not eating the food right away, but it is there. It might be in clear plastic containers that are labelled, because it seems that there are multiple types of flour and you shouldn’t mix them up. I did a Google search for pantries and saw that some pantries have doors. One pantry I saw even had a drawer!
Ari, 40: Apparently, pantries contain food that is “shelf-stable,” and I’m not talking about the paper plate that I folded up and put under my bookshelf to keep it steady.
Liz, 25: I was going to try making this bean soup I saw online, but all I had were Honey Nut Cheerios. I poured some into a bowl instead. It was almost like having the bean soup.
Tamar, 31: I felt so inspired by these pantry recipes that I went out to buy lentils, capers, tuna, tahini, sardines, giant white beans, tomato paste, farro, artichoke hearts, and something called grapeseed oil. But then I got home and was, like, “Oh, my God, what have I done? I don’t like any of these things.” But the good thing about pantry staples is that you don’t have to eat them. They can sit on your shelf. Sometimes forever.


newyorker--2020-05-28--The Awkward, Surprising Realness of Virtual First Dates

What does the socially distant reality of the coronavirus pandemic mean for that chemistry-dependent ritual , the first date ?
In the past months , as self-quarantine edicts and business closures have limited people ’ s ability to meet with new romantic prospects in person , we have seen a rise of purely virtual dating , bringing assignations that would have once taken place at a café or a restaurant onto video-conferencing platforms such as Zoom .
This transformation of courting rituals has led , too , to a minor but still resonant loss for those of us who have @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on others ’ face-to-face dates .
No longer are we able to surreptitiously listen in , from a nearby table , on prospective lovers negotiating their potential compatibility in real time .
“ I ’ ve always loved overhearing people on dates .
The dynamics of it are fascinating , ” the filmmaker Simon Mendes told me .
“ There ’ s simultaneously enormous possibility and also the potential for the encounter to lead to absolutely nothing .
It ’ s a vulnerable moment.
” In pre-COVID days , Mendes had considered capturing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a film around it , but the new dating landscape that the coronavirus has ushered in has made him realize that he might be able to explore his fascination by new means .
He had also gone on a virtual date himself , and found that there was something particular to the form that he wanted to dig into .
“ Because there was no pressure of actual physical engagement , I found that I could really get to know the person , ” he told me .
The format got rid of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ads on Craigslist and Facebook , offering participants fifty dollars if they would go on a Zoom date , record it , and allow an edited version to appear in a short documentary , which you can watch above .
“ I told people they could record dates that they had planned anyway , or that I was willing to match them with a partner , ” Mendes said .
“ And I found it touching how many people were actually hoping to be set up .
In the end , of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up two , matching up people who responded to the ad , and four brought in their own partners.
” All of the dates , save one , were first-time encounters .
( The outlier couple had met in real life once before , prior to the pandemic . )
Once the encounters were edited , what resulted is “ Dating in Place , ” a ten-minute ode to the affecting , awkward , and surprisingly real attempts to find love virtually during quarantine .
Watching “ Dating in Place ” brings to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reality-TV fare such as “ Love Is Blind ” or “ Dating Around.
” Like the couples featured on those dating shows , the couples in “ Dating in Place ” have agreed to share the kind of intimate encounters that are usually observed by an outside viewer only in passing , if at all , which can ’ t help but give the project a hint of prurience .
There are some cringeworthy moments—as when one man offers his date a bouquet of flowers onscreen , or when a woman asks her @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is no sense of exploitative tension here : the relatively long , slightly meandering takes give the video a slight cinéma-vérité quality .
There is also something gentle and exploratory in Mendes ’ s gaze , and his subjects reveal themselves in ways that feel unrushed and authentic .
When one woman describes the frightening daily reality of her work at a hospital , her date goes from smiling to serious .
“ It ’ s mind-bending to me , ” he says .
Watching the video , you get the rare sense @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and naturally , as two curious participants in the world , even if it ’ s clear to both , and also to the observer , that a romantic match isn ’ t in the cards .
“ In my own experience , I ’ ve found that , since the pandemic , people are messaging more and seem more open , ” Mendes told me .
“ Talking on dating apps and going on virtual dates is serving as a form of connection , and hope for what might come after .
@

What does the socially distant reality of the coronavirus pandemic mean for that chemistry-dependent ritual, the first date? In the past months, as self-quarantine edicts and business closures have limited people’s ability to meet with new romantic prospects in person, we have seen a rise of purely virtual dating, bringing assignations that would have once taken place at a café or a restaurant onto video-conferencing platforms such as Zoom. This transformation of courting rituals has led, too, to a minor but still resonant loss for those of us who have, until recently, thrilled to eavesdrop on others’ face-to-face dates. No longer are we able to surreptitiously listen in, from a nearby table, on prospective lovers negotiating their potential compatibility in real time. “I’ve always loved overhearing people on dates. The dynamics of it are fascinating,” the filmmaker Simon Mendes told me. “There’s simultaneously enormous possibility and also the potential for the encounter to lead to absolutely nothing. It’s a vulnerable moment.”
In pre-COVID days, Mendes had considered capturing the audio from first dates and creating a film around it, but the new dating landscape that the coronavirus has ushered in has made him realize that he might be able to explore his fascination by new means. He had also gone on a virtual date himself, and found that there was something particular to the form that he wanted to dig into. “Because there was no pressure of actual physical engagement, I found that I could really get to know the person,” he told me. The format got rid of “the usual anxiety.” He posted ads on Craigslist and Facebook, offering participants fifty dollars if they would go on a Zoom date, record it, and allow an edited version to appear in a short documentary, which you can watch above. “I told people they could record dates that they had planned anyway, or that I was willing to match them with a partner,” Mendes said. “And I found it touching how many people were actually hoping to be set up. In the end, of the six couples I included, I set up two, matching up people who responded to the ad, and four brought in their own partners.” All of the dates, save one, were first-time encounters. (The outlier couple had met in real life once before, prior to the pandemic.) Once the encounters were edited, what resulted is “Dating in Place,” a ten-minute ode to the affecting, awkward, and surprisingly real attempts to find love virtually during quarantine.
Watching “Dating in Place” brings to mind the voyeuristic pleasures of recent streaming reality-TV fare such as “Love Is Blind” and “Dating Around.” Like the couples featured on those dating shows, the couples in “Dating in Place” have agreed to share the kind of intimate encounters that are usually observed by an outside viewer only in passing, if at all, which can’t help but give the project a hint of prurience. There are some cringeworthy moments—as when one man offers his date a bouquet of flowers onscreen, or when a woman asks her date questions from a psychological test—but there is no sense of exploitative tension here: the relatively long, slightly meandering takes give the video a slight cinéma-vérité quality. There is also something gentle and exploratory in Mendes’s gaze, and his subjects reveal themselves in ways that feel unrushed and authentic. When one woman describes the frightening daily reality of her work at a hospital, her date goes from smiling to serious. “It’s mind-bending to me,” he says. Watching the video, you get the rare sense of observing people as they interact unhurriedly and naturally, as two curious participants in the world, even if it’s clear to both, and also to the observer, that a romantic match isn’t in the cards. “In my own experience, I’ve found that, since the pandemic, people are messaging more and seem more open,” Mendes told me. “Talking on dating apps and going on virtual dates is serving as a form of connection, and hope for what might come after.”


newyorker--2020-05-29--Donald Trump: The Most Mendacious President in U.S. History

On Sunday , on Tuesday , and again on Wednesday , President Donald Trump accused the TV talk-show host Joe Scarborough of murder .
On Tuesday , Wednesday , and Thursday , he attacked the integrity of America ’ s forthcoming “ RIGGED ” election .
When he woke up on Wednesday , he alleged that the Obama Administration had “ SPIED , in an unprecedented manner , on the Trump Campaign , and beyond , and even on the United States Senate.
” By midnight Wednesday , a few hours after the number of U.S. deaths in the coronavirus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the President of the United States retweeted a video that says , “ the only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.
” This is not the first time when the tweets emanating from the man in the White House have featured baseless accusations of murder , vote fraud , and his predecessor ’ s “ illegality and corruption.
” It ’ s not even the first time this month .
So many of the things that Trump does and says are inconceivable for an American President , and yet he does and says @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been a seemingly endless series of such moments .
From the start of his Administration , his tweets have been an open-source intelligence boon , a window directly into the President ’ s needy id , and a real-time guide to his obsessions and intentions .
Misinformation , disinformation , and outright lies were always central to his politics .
In recent months , however , his tweeting appears to have taken an even darker , more manic , and more mendacious turn , as Trump struggles to manage the convergence of a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ collapse while running for reëlection .
He is tweeting more frequently , and more frantically , as events have closed in on him .
Trailing in the polls and desperate to change the subject from the coronavirus , mid-pandemic Trump has a Twitter feed that is meaner , angrier , and more partisan than ever before , as he amplifies conspiracy theories about the “ deep state ” and media enemies such as Scarborough while seeking to exacerbate divisions in an already divided country .
Strikingly , this dark turn with the President @ @ @ @ @ @ @ using his Twitter feed as an even more potent vehicle for telling his Republican followers what to do—and they are listening .
Just this week , amid the Scarborough-murder libels , about the accidental 2001 death of a young woman who worked for him , Trump tweeted out that he was now against the reauthorization of the federal wiretapping authorities in the FISA bill .
Immediately , Republican lawmakers in Congress who had until that point supported it suddenly refused to vote in its favor .
Bowing to the reality that some Republican @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s Democratic majority in order to pass the measure , Speaker Nancy Pelosi reluctantly withdrew the bill from consideration .
On Thursday , she mocked her G.O.P .
colleagues for shifting on the basis of a “ twinkle of a tweet ” from Trump .
He is now wielding actual and not just rhetorical power via social media .
And he knows it .
Yet the reality of Trump ’ s maliciously prolific tweeting is so alarming , unpleasant , and simply exhausting that it often escapes real scrutiny .
I understand why @ @ @ @ @ @ @ process , and I empathize with the sincere desire of many to avoid playing into Trump ’ s hands by being distracted by the very distractions he offers up .
It can be easier to yell at one another about Twitter ’ s terms of service than about Trump ’ s tweets .
Indeed , that is exactly what happened over the past few days , after Twitter ’ s C.E.O.
, Jack Dorsey , finally decided that Trump had crossed some line and ordered that a label— “ get the facts ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s tweets claiming imminent voter fraud in California ’ s plan , as a result of the pandemic , to send mail-in ballots to registered voters .
Furious , Trump immediately cried censorship—though his tweets were not censored—and vowed revenge in the form of an executive order demanding a policy review of the Communications Decency Act .
If he could , Trump told reporters in the Oval Office , he ’ d be happy to shut down Twitter entirely .
So now the pundits , instead of focussing on Trump ’ s lies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thousand American dead , are debating the nuances of social-media regulation , the Silicon Valley smackdown between Dorsey and the Facebook C.E.O.
, Mark Zuckerberg , over fact-checking Trump , and whether the President ’ s insistence on vengeance will end up getting him banned from the platform that has been so integral to his political rise .
The fact remains , however , that Trump ’ s breathtaking dishonesty is and ought to be a national debate in its own right .
In a provocative new essay , Trump ’ s onetime @ @ @ @ @ @ @ best-selling 1987 book , “ The Art of the Deal , ” but has since turned on him—argues that the Presidency has transformed Trump from an attention-seeking narcissist , who spent decades lying about his golf trophies , his sex life , and his real-estate properties , into an ends-justify-the-means ruler who has increasingly and ominously escalated his lies and extreme behavior .
Many of Trump ’ s lies , Schwartz argues , come from his grandiose misconception of his own knowledge and powers , including his bragging that he knows more “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , social media , campaign finance , technology , polls , courts , lawsuits , politicians , trade , renewable energy , infrastructure , construction , nuclear weapons , banks , tax laws , the economy , and , during the pandemic , medicine .
“ His obsession with domination and power have prompted Trump to tell lies more promiscuously than ever since he became President , and to engage in ever more unfounded and aggressive responses aimed at anyone he perceives stands in his way , ” Schwartz wrote .
This is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ service of a book , by the Washington Post ’ s Fact Checker staff , that will come out next week , “ Donald Trump and His Assault on Truth.
” The book is not just a compendium of the President ’ s tens of thousands of falsehoods , misleading claims , and lies during the first three years of his Presidency ; it ’ s also an effort to catalogue and explain the different pathologies at work in his systematic misrepresentations to the American people .
The untruths told by the President @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the Post found : an average of six per day in 2017 turned to nearly sixteen per day in 2018 , which then increased to more than twenty-two per day in 2019—and that was before this crazy 2020 of the impeachment trial , the pandemic , the economic crisis , and Trump ’ s reëlection campaign .
The President ’ s use of Twitter has metastasized along with the false statements that he publishes on his feed ; he is now sending out , every day , an average of nearly four times @ @ @ @ @ @ @ during his first year in office .
As I was reading the Post ’ s book , I thought back to a series of focus groups I listened in on , among suburban Republican women in Pennsylvania , last fall and winter .
At all four of the sessions , the subject of Trump ’ s inflammatory social-media presence came up .
Although the women were divided about the President over all , and whether they would vote for him again , there was unanimity about the matter of the tweets .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” one woman said , in January .
“ All these things have lowered the dignity of the office.
” Another added , “ He should stay off Twitter .
He doesn ’ t have any respect because of it.
” In all four groups , heads nodded when similar sentiments were expressed .
Yet there was still resistance among these Republicans to calling Trump an out-and-out liar .
They saw his tweets as a personality flaw , as non-Presidential and unbecoming , as crass and offensive , but most could not bring @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for a serial prevaricator .
“ I love what he ’ s saying , just not the way he says it , ” a woman named Debra told a group .
She was willing to make excuses .
“ He just exaggerates to try to get his message across , ” she said .

On Sunday, on Tuesday, and again on Wednesday, President Donald Trump accused the TV talk-show host Joe Scarborough of murder. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, he attacked the integrity of America’s forthcoming “RIGGED” election. When he woke up on Wednesday, he alleged that the Obama Administration had “SPIED, in an unprecedented manner, on the Trump Campaign, and beyond, and even on the United States Senate.” By midnight Wednesday, a few hours after the number of U.S. deaths in the coronavirus pandemic officially exceeded a hundred thousand, the President of the United States retweeted a video that says, “the only good Democrat is a dead Democrat.”
This is not the first time when the tweets emanating from the man in the White House have featured baseless accusations of murder, vote fraud, and his predecessor’s “illegality and corruption.” It’s not even the first time this month. So many of the things that Trump does and says are inconceivable for an American President, and yet he does and says them anyway. The Trump era has been a seemingly endless series of such moments. From the start of his Administration, his tweets have been an open-source intelligence boon, a window directly into the President’s needy id, and a real-time guide to his obsessions and intentions. Misinformation, disinformation, and outright lies were always central to his politics.
In recent months, however, his tweeting appears to have taken an even darker, more manic, and more mendacious turn, as Trump struggles to manage the convergence of a massive public-health crisis and a simultaneous economic collapse while running for reëlection. He is tweeting more frequently, and more frantically, as events have closed in on him. Trailing in the polls and desperate to change the subject from the coronavirus, mid-pandemic Trump has a Twitter feed that is meaner, angrier, and more partisan than ever before, as he amplifies conspiracy theories about the “deep state” and media enemies such as Scarborough while seeking to exacerbate divisions in an already divided country.
Strikingly, this dark turn with the President’s tweets comes as he is using his Twitter feed as an even more potent vehicle for telling his Republican followers what to do—and they are listening. Just this week, amid the Scarborough-murder libels, about the accidental 2001 death of a young woman who worked for him, Trump tweeted out that he was now against the reauthorization of the federal wiretapping authorities in the FISA bill. Immediately, Republican lawmakers in Congress who had until that point supported it suddenly refused to vote in its favor. Bowing to the reality that some Republican votes were needed by the House’s Democratic majority in order to pass the measure, Speaker Nancy Pelosi reluctantly withdrew the bill from consideration. On Thursday, she mocked her G.O.P. colleagues for shifting on the basis of a “twinkle of a tweet” from Trump. He is now wielding actual and not just rhetorical power via social media. And he knows it.
Yet the reality of Trump’s maliciously prolific tweeting is so alarming, unpleasant, and simply exhausting that it often escapes real scrutiny. I understand why this is hard for us to collectively process, and I empathize with the sincere desire of many to avoid playing into Trump’s hands by being distracted by the very distractions he offers up. It can be easier to yell at one another about Twitter’s terms of service than about Trump’s tweets. Indeed, that is exactly what happened over the past few days, after Twitter’s C.E.O., Jack Dorsey, finally decided that Trump had crossed some line and ordered that a label—“get the facts”—be appended to two of Trump’s tweets claiming imminent voter fraud in California’s plan, as a result of the pandemic, to send mail-in ballots to registered voters. Furious, Trump immediately cried censorship—though his tweets were not censored—and vowed revenge in the form of an executive order demanding a policy review of the Communications Decency Act. If he could, Trump told reporters in the Oval Office, he’d be happy to shut down Twitter entirely. So now the pundits, instead of focussing on Trump’s lies or the gruesome milestone of a hundred thousand American dead, are debating the nuances of social-media regulation, the Silicon Valley smackdown between Dorsey and the Facebook C.E.O., Mark Zuckerberg, over fact-checking Trump, and whether the President’s insistence on vengeance will end up getting him banned from the platform that has been so integral to his political rise.
The fact remains, however, that Trump’s breathtaking dishonesty is and ought to be a national debate in its own right. In a provocative new essay, Trump’s onetime ghostwriter Tony Schwartz—who wrote Trump’s best-selling 1987 book, “The Art of the Deal,” but has since turned on him—argues that the Presidency has transformed Trump from an attention-seeking narcissist, who spent decades lying about his golf trophies, his sex life, and his real-estate properties, into an ends-justify-the-means ruler who has increasingly and ominously escalated his lies and extreme behavior. Many of Trump’s lies, Schwartz argues, come from his grandiose misconception of his own knowledge and powers, including his bragging that he knows more “than anyone” about ISIS, drones, social media, campaign finance, technology, polls, courts, lawsuits, politicians, trade, renewable energy, infrastructure, construction, nuclear weapons, banks, tax laws, the economy, and, during the pandemic, medicine. “His obsession with domination and power have prompted Trump to tell lies more promiscuously than ever since he became President, and to engage in ever more unfounded and aggressive responses aimed at anyone he perceives stands in his way,” Schwartz wrote.
This is also the thesis of a great public service of a book, by the Washington Post’s Fact Checker staff, that will come out next week, “Donald Trump and His Assault on Truth.” The book is not just a compendium of the President’s tens of thousands of falsehoods, misleading claims, and lies during the first three years of his Presidency; it’s also an effort to catalogue and explain the different pathologies at work in his systematic misrepresentations to the American people. The untruths told by the President have increased in seriousness and volume, the Post found: an average of six per day in 2017 turned to nearly sixteen per day in 2018, which then increased to more than twenty-two per day in 2019—and that was before this crazy 2020 of the impeachment trial, the pandemic, the economic crisis, and Trump’s reëlection campaign. The President’s use of Twitter has metastasized along with the false statements that he publishes on his feed; he is now sending out, every day, an average of nearly four times as many misleading tweets as he did during his first year in office.


newyorker--2020-05-28--What to Stream: “Sad Song,” an Audacious French Documentary from the BBC’s Online Film Festival

In the absence of theatres , many film-centric organizations have been finding creative ways to show movies—and , moreover , to get movies seen .
In the process , they ’ re overcoming one of the long-standing woes of moviegoing—the extremely limited and localized release of many of the best films .
It ’ s a constant frustration to see great movies playing , say , one week at one New York venue , knowing that they ’ ll then drop into oblivion until , months or even years later , they come out streaming .
The BBC has taken @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Thursday , they launched LongShots , an online film festival of seven international documentaries , all available to view for the next month , free of charge ( viewers can vote to determine the winner ) .
I ’ d read an enthusiastic review of one of these films , “ Sad Song , ” directed by Louise Narboni , so that ’ s the one I started with .
It ’ s an intricate and painful docu-fiction that ’ s as audacious in its concept as it is troubling in its substance @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( specializing in Baroque repertory ) , lives in Paris and is providing a temporary home to Ahmad Shinwari , a young man from Afghanistan .
He has arrived in France as a refugee , seeking asylum there , and is awaiting an official answer to his application .
Narboni films Fonnard and Shinwari in Fonnard ’ s comfortable home ( a house with a garden ) as they re-create , for the camera , real experiences that they shared .
The action is simple , staged by Narboni in spare , largely @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Elodie , in voice-over , and her perspective on the action is itself a crucial part of the drama .
She explains that , following a personal tragedy , she became active with an organization that assists refugees ; there , she met Ahmad and decided to work with him , tutoring him in French , acclimating him to life in France , getting him needed medical care , and helping him assemble his dossier to apply for asylum .
Ahmad had worked on his family ’ s small farm in Afghanistan but @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fled first to Kabul and then , after an arduous journey on foot , eventually reached France .
Ahmad is also an accomplished musician and poet ; he and Elodie bonded through their love of music and lyrics , and their artistic collaborations and mutual admiration is displayed in action .
Yet it has no practical or professional outlet ; Elodie is busily pursuing her career , preparing for a recital involving a varied repertory ( including songs by Duparc and Szymanowski ) , and Ahmad , while waiting for the French bureaucracy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in a holding pattern , doing household chores , studying with Elodie , and thinking about his family at home .
He has long suspected that , during his absence from home , his mother has been concealing from him the death of his sister ; when he eventually gets confirmation of this news ( which leaves him his mother ’ s sole source of support ) , it complicates his plans to stay in France .
Yet the greatest complication involves the possibility ( no spoilers ) of a romance between Ahmad @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is both a straightforward drama and an elaborate reconstruction that reflects , with aesthetic self-awareness , the troubling complexity of its own attempt to tell Ahmad ’ s story through the double framework of Elodie ’ s personal perspective and Narboni ’ s cinematic one .
What the movie presents of Ahmad ’ s life is largely based on what he told Elodie , and what , working with him , she carefully pieced together and then translated into French for official presentation in his dossier to apply for asylum .
( Their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ French together only rarely , whereas Elodie ’ s copious voice-over is in French . )
Ahmad acknowledges that his reënactment of his life with Elodie at the time of the administrative bottleneck is itself therapeutic .
Still , no less than Ahmad is subject to French authority , he ’ s also subject to Elodie ’ s gaze , Elodie ’ s interpretation , Elodie ’ s domestic regime—and to Narboni ’ s cinematic reconstitution of his life by way of Elodie ’ s perspective .
“ Sad Song ” ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of presenting Ahmad as a subject who expresses himself , and the fact that every mediating presence—Elodie , the French state , and Narboni herself—fails in some way to render Ahmad ’ s story in his own voice .
( There ’ s even a noteworthy , seemingly unintended pun on the soundtrack , when Elodie hopes that he ’ ll find “ sa voie ” —his way—which is a homonym for “ sa voix , ” his voice . )
The film ’ s representation and dramatization of this failure is key @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it ’ s a story of the camera as an unseeing eye , of vision as a mode of overlooking .
It is more than a crucial tale of the dire personal , physical , emotional , and political circumstances that refugees are now facing in their effort to seek safe haven .
It ’ s an artistic way of thinking about the very difficulty that outsiders face in even thinking about refugees and in trying to help .

In the absence of theatres, many film-centric organizations have been finding creative ways to show movies—and, moreover, to get movies seen. In the process, they’re overcoming one of the long-standing woes of moviegoing—the extremely limited and localized release of many of the best films. It’s a constant frustration to see great movies playing, say, one week at one New York venue, knowing that they’ll then drop into oblivion until, months or even years later, they come out streaming. The BBC has taken a bold step to help: on Thursday, they launched LongShots, an online film festival of seven international documentaries, all available to view for the next month, free of charge (viewers can vote to determine the winner).
I’d read an enthusiastic review of one of these films, “Sad Song,” directed by Louise Narboni, so that’s the one I started with. It’s an intricate and painful docu-fiction that’s as audacious in its concept as it is troubling in its substance. Elodie Fonnard, a classical-music singer (specializing in Baroque repertory), lives in Paris and is providing a temporary home to Ahmad Shinwari, a young man from Afghanistan. He has arrived in France as a refugee, seeking asylum there, and is awaiting an official answer to his application. Narboni films Fonnard and Shinwari in Fonnard’s comfortable home (a house with a garden) as they re-create, for the camera, real experiences that they shared.
The action is simple, staged by Narboni in spare, largely static compositions—but it’s narrated by Elodie, in voice-over, and her perspective on the action is itself a crucial part of the drama. She explains that, following a personal tragedy, she became active with an organization that assists refugees; there, she met Ahmad and decided to work with him, tutoring him in French, acclimating him to life in France, getting him needed medical care, and helping him assemble his dossier to apply for asylum. Ahmad had worked on his family’s small farm in Afghanistan but, under threat from the Taliban, fled first to Kabul and then, after an arduous journey on foot, eventually reached France.
Ahmad is also an accomplished musician and poet; he and Elodie bonded through their love of music and lyrics, and their artistic collaborations and mutual admiration is displayed in action. Yet it has no practical or professional outlet; Elodie is busily pursuing her career, preparing for a recital involving a varied repertory (including songs by Duparc and Szymanowski), and Ahmad, while waiting for the French bureaucracy to take up his case, is in a holding pattern, doing household chores, studying with Elodie, and thinking about his family at home. He has long suspected that, during his absence from home, his mother has been concealing from him the death of his sister; when he eventually gets confirmation of this news (which leaves him his mother’s sole source of support), it complicates his plans to stay in France. Yet the greatest complication involves the possibility (no spoilers) of a romance between Ahmad and Elodie.
“Sad Song” is both a straightforward drama and an elaborate reconstruction that reflects, with aesthetic self-awareness, the troubling complexity of its own attempt to tell Ahmad’s story through the double framework of Elodie’s personal perspective and Narboni’s cinematic one. What the movie presents of Ahmad’s life is largely based on what he told Elodie, and what, working with him, she carefully pieced together and then translated into French for official presentation in his dossier to apply for asylum. (Their common language is English; they speak French together only rarely, whereas Elodie’s copious voice-over is in French.) Ahmad acknowledges that his reënactment of his life with Elodie at the time of the administrative bottleneck is itself therapeutic. Still, no less than Ahmad is subject to French authority, he’s also subject to Elodie’s gaze, Elodie’s interpretation, Elodie’s domestic regime—and to Narboni’s cinematic reconstitution of his life by way of Elodie’s perspective.
“Sad Song” ’s subject is subjectivity, the very possibility of presenting Ahmad as a subject who expresses himself, and the fact that every mediating presence—Elodie, the French state, and Narboni herself—fails in some way to render Ahmad’s story in his own voice. (There’s even a noteworthy, seemingly unintended pun on the soundtrack, when Elodie hopes that he’ll find “sa voie”—his way—which is a homonym for “sa voix,” his voice.) The film’s representation and dramatization of this failure is key to its severe and anguished success; it’s a story of the camera as an unseeing eye, of vision as a mode of overlooking. It is more than a crucial tale of the dire personal, physical, emotional, and political circumstances that refugees are now facing in their effort to seek safe haven. It’s an artistic way of thinking about the very difficulty that outsiders face in even thinking about refugees and in trying to help.