What's That in Your Food?

Food, Inc. (2009)

Back in the day, by which I mean before the MacDonald brothers brought Henry Ford’s assembly line methodology to their rapidly expanding fast food empire, the food we ate had a vital characteristic that we seem to have taken for granted: we knew, to a large extent, where it came from. This was important, for reasons that Food, Inc. examines with often shocking clarity. Unless you are already familiar with the frightening intricacies of factory farming, the oppressive relationship between multi-national corporations and America’s farmers, and the ramifications (social, cultural, medical, and environmental) of an extremely industrialized system of food production, you really should see this movie. I don’t want to sound extreme (okay, maybe I do), but your life may very well depend on it.

I won’t say much about the details of the film itself, as such things are better absorbed by the viewer, but I will say that some of the facts are jaw-dropping, stomach churning, and mind-fucking. And the most disturbing part is, the damaging characteristics of this system do not apply to the food industry alone. One of the farmers interviewed in the film says it best when he observes (loosely paraphrasing here), “The world we live in today is run by technicians, people who view an animal as just a mechanical and scientific series of chemical reactions and nerve functions. If you can view an animal that way, what ramifications do you think that has on how you view your interactions with other people, and even other countries?” He says all this while pulling out a dead chicken’s stomach through its asshole, but the point comes across. This is not just about food.

If the film has flaws, it is these: the structure is episodic and halting, which takes away slightly from its momentum, and the subjects are a bit broad, very basic for someone who already has a significant breadth of knowledge on the subject. There is also a ridiculously overlong, Inconvenient Truth-style textual call to action right before the end credits roll that seems a bit of an overkill. But for the curious but inexperienced, and those who are concerned with the future of this country and of this planet (yes, that was a guilt-trip), this film is essential viewing.

AND...

Soylent Green (1973)

Dystopia has long been one of cinema’s favorite themes. The negative possible future ramifications of today’s actions and policies have inspired a global spattering of filmmakers, from Jean-Luc Godard (Alphaville) and Francois Truffaut (Fahrenheit 451) to George Miller (The Road Warrior) and Terry Gilliam (Brazil), making it one of film’s more universal sub-genres. Perhaps two of the most famous entries are a pair from the late ‘60s and early ‘70s starring Charlton Heston: the sequel-spawning science fiction classic Planet of the Apes (1968), and a lesser known but still highly influential ecological nightmare called Soylent Green.

Green takes place in the distant year 2022, in a disastrously overpopulated New York City. Eco conditions spawned by (gasp) global warming have left the world a muggy, sweat-soaked greenhouse, where people sleep on crowded tenement staircases and eat brightly colored processed food cubes known respectively as Soylent Red, Soylent Blue, and the title-inspiring Soylen Green. Heston plays an alcoholic cop (is there any other kind in movies?) investigating the murder of a corporate tycoon played by frequent Orson Welles-collaborator Joseph Cotten, a murder whose causes and ramifications are far more horrific than he could have ever imagined.

When all is said and done, Soylent Green is asking essentially the same questions as Food, Inc., namely, “Do you really know where your food is coming from?” And interestingly enough, the problems plaguing Green’s future society are generally the same being addressed in the newer film, specifically the abuse of our natural resources, mass corporatization, and over-industrialization. How oddly prescient. You’d think more people would have seen it coming.

Although the film’s eerie resemblance to the modern world alone makes it worth seeing, the plot is full of awkward developments and a less than heart-racing central mystery. Heston’s romance with Cotten’s ex-girlfriend comes out of nowhere, and the puzzle that is meant to drive the plot forward always feels like an afterthought, playing second-fiddle to atmosphere, setting, and imagery. It fails to build suspense, and as a result, the pacing drags in numerous spots. Luckily, the film is not very long (it clocks in at 97 minutes), and more than makes up for its narrative flaws with a simple yet highly effective production design.

The frame is constantly full of dust and crowds of people, infused with a hazy golden-brown glow that evokes a windy desert more than a bustling metropolis. Characters are always dirty and drenched in sweat; just watching it makes you want to turn on the fan while taking a shower. Depleted resources, specifically real food, are valued commodities, turning every character who sees them and does not already have them into a thief. But perhaps the most affecting aspect of the film is its juxtaposition of modern urban hell with the more natural, pastoral past, showcased in a memorable sequence featuring the wonderful Edward G. Robinson. Overall, the film is a complete triumph of production design, perfectly conjuring a tangible sense of time and place in spite of an underdeveloped plot.

The final revelation is one of the most endlessly parodied in film history, but remains the primary reason for the movie’s notoriety to this day. Whether or not you are shocked or surprised by it, Soylent Green is certainly an interesting film-going experience, if primarily because of its evocative atmosphere rather than its plot.