By Stephen Hunter
December 3, 2004, Washington Post
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A30287-2004Dec2.html
Someone who actually, you know, knows something will have to issue a policy statement on the politics of "The Take," a radical Canadian documentary that celebrates what could be called, equally, an act of liberation or an act of theft.
Purely from an artistic point of view it's a well-made, straightforward (from the leftist vantage point) examination of an Argentine phenomenon that could have meanings beyond Argentina. The filmmakers, Avi Lewis and Naomi Klein, lay their cards on the table in the opening second by sweeping across a vista of shuttered factories and saying, "Welcome to the globalized ghost town."
Their story, and they're sticking to it, is that the economic policies of Argentina's president Carlos Menem (his term ran
from 1989 to 1999) caused the country's economic collapse and that, furthermore, these were policies that obeyed mandates of the International Monetary Fund. I can't balance a checkbook, how could I comment on that?
What the filmmakers were looking for was something beyond demonstrations (which they'd attended and found ultimately pointless); they were looking for alternative challenges to conventional capitalist structures. That's what they found in Argentina: Many of the displaced workers spontaneously (or so it seemed) occupied their locked factories and began to produce goods. Everybody at, say, the Zanon ceramics factory thought this was a terrific idea, except of course Mr. Zanon, who was somewhat peeved.
"It is my factory," he explains to Lewis and Klein in a pleasant, conversational tone. "I built it, I put money into it."
Well, you closed it, they don't say but clearly mean, suggesting that the law of private property (guaranteed in Argentina's constitution) should be put aside and that these matters ought to be decided on a strict use-it-or-lose-it basis.
The film then tracks two narratives: the struggle of the workers at Zanon and other occupied factories to retain possession and operation of the appropriated plants, and a hotly contested election in which Menem attempts to regain control, while opposed by a left-wing candidate named Nestor Kirchner in the 2003 election. It is understood that if Menem wins, the workers lose, and the two Canadians do a good job evoking the passions of this tightly contested campaign.
While the politics are fierce and the issues bitter, one of the most inspiring things about both stories in "The Take" is that neither ended in lethal violence, guerrilla war, assassination, slaughter, carnage and all those more typical outcomes. Other than a labor riot, these events unfolded with a good deal of civility and belief in the structures of government. The workers don't set fire to things, they lobby the legislature.
"The Take" is another in the seeming glut of left-wing documentaries pouring onto screens this year, but what marks it as unique is its cheerful honesty and faith in the goodwill of men. It never smirks or condescends as does, say, a Michael Moore; it never seems smug and superior, only committed and compassionate.
The Take (87 minutes) is not rated and contains scenes of labor violence.
-- Michael Pugliese