And the Band Played On (1993) (TVM)

Is there a name yet for this disease? 1976: by the Ebola River in Zaire. American epidemiologist Don Francis (Matthew Modine) of the World Health Organisation arrives in a village where he finds many of the residents and the doctor working with them have died from a mysterious illness later identified as the Ebola haemorrhagic fever. It’s his first exposure to this kind of epidemic and the images of the dead he helps to cremate haunt him when he later becomes involved with HIV/AIDS research at the CDE (Centres for Disease Control and Prevention) in Atlanta. 1981: Francis becomes aware of a growing number of deaths among gay men in Los Angeles, New York city and San Francisco from a rare lung condition – pneumocystis pneumonia. It only afflicts people with weakened immune systems. He moves to Atlanta, Georgia where CDC Administrator Dr. James Curran (Saul Rubinek) asks him to begin an in-depth investigation into this new immune disorder. Due to the Reagan Administration’s clampdown on public spending, Francis is forced to work with little money, limited space and outdated equipment including microscopes. He clashes with members of the medical community, many of whom resent his involvement because of their personal agendas. Francis comes into contact with the gay community after he and his colleagues find strong evidence that the disease is spread through sex. Some gay men support him, such as San Francisco activist and congressional aide Bill Kraus (Ian McKellen) but others such as Bobbi Campbell (Donal Logue) express anger at what they see as unwanted interference in their lives, especially in his attempts to close the local bath houses, read as homophobia. Kraus works with the doctors treating gay patients to try to save the gay community from the virus, to the point that it costs his own relationship with boyfriend Kico Govantes (BD Wong) who moves on with an architect. Francis and other CDC staff are shocked that representatives of the blood industry are unwilling to do anything to try to curb the epidemic because of potential financial losses. While Francis pursues his theory that AIDS is caused by a sexually transmitted virus (based on his own interest in feline leukaemia and Hepatitis B) his efforts are stymied because of competition between French scientists from Paris’ Pasteur Institute led by virologist Luc Montagnier (Patrick Bauchau) and American scientists, particularly Robert Gallo (Alan Alda) of the National Institutes of Health who is enraged when he finds out that Francis collaborated in typically collegiate fashion with the French scientists. The researchers squabble over who should receive credit for discovering the virus and for development of a blood test. Meanwhile the death toll climbs among many different types of people including children who receive infected blood. One day in 1984, while exercising at a local gym, Kraus notices a spot on his ankle and worries that it might be Kaposi’s sarcoma, an AIDS-defining illness … The party’s over. One of the two most essential publications of the 1990s (the other being Crisis in the Hot Zone) was Randy Shilts’ 1987 non-fiction book And the Band Played On: Politics, People, and the AIDS Epidemic. Excellently adapted by the venerable screenwriter Arnold Schulman (who died February 2023 aged 97) and premiered at the Montreal Film Festival before being screened on TV first by HBO and later by NBC, it knits several strands of storytelling together. It of course has the flavour of public service broadcasting as well as that benighted niche, Movie Illness of the Week. But with this cast and talent never mind the source material it still possesses a unique urgency. This could be the first deadly epidemic in history in which nobody officially died. The intricate scaffolding of the screenplay is constructed to bring together the various aspects of the teams working in silos who unwittingly find commonalities but take their time to work out their findings collectively through accident and coincidence until finally they discover the starting point. Almost everyone I know has or wants to. An internationally starry cast including Lily Tomlin, Steve Martin, Nathalie Baye, Glenne Headly, Anjelica Huston and Tcheky Karyo – with Richard Gere’s cameo as a version of (unnamed) acclaimed choreographer Michael Bennett – finds itself linked to the impossibly handsome Gaetan Dugas aka Patient Zero (Jeffrey Nordlin) that French-Canadian air steward the carrier who is symptom-free until he gets Kaposi’s. It’s like all the plagues in the history of the world got squeezed into one. When it’s not just gay men but African women in Paris and Haitian people in the US and babies in NYC dying from what Prince called the big disease with a little name, the strands of the narrative are united just as the personal issues are pushed to the forefront with a race to find a vaccine. The sparing use of archive, timed to punctuate developments and place them in an historical context, assists the affect of the performances. I want to stop you from turning this holocaust into an international pissing contest. On the political front there are a number of interests – the Reagan administration, the CDC, the doctors whose big pharma investments are at risk, the blood banks, the gay activists resistant to the bath house closures and then there’s the rivalry between Gallo and the Pasteur Institute which the American narcissist insists is a competition between countries. When doctors start acting like businessmen, who do people turn to for doctors? The irony that the man preaching safe sex finds himself infected is wonderfully exposed in McKellen’s subtle performance. Ultimately progress comes down to the same sample leading the competitors to discover the first new human retrovirus. This is where the diseases are. In an impressive ensemble, which doesn’t extol one individual over any other, Modine as Francis is the motor and the conscience, the protagonist whose original findings in Africa trigger his understanding of the spread of the disease creating empathy for a difficult front line that involves the everyday problems besetting the medical profession. The credits rollcall of the dead – from Arthur Ashe to Ryan White – and the movement’s activists, over Elton John’s The Last Song, is sobering indeed. Elegantly directed by Roger Spottiswoode who delivers a coherent, moving and emotive docudrama with a powerful political punch about stigma, prejudice, ignorance and self-interest that still has the capacity to make jaws drop in chronicling an epidemic with lessons for everyone. Will we ever learn? And will anyone ever commit to the fact that the origin of the protein that evolved alternately into HIV/AIDS or Ebola in humans came from Africans eating monkeys? This was known in 1993, when this film was produced, six years after Randy Shilts’ book was published but presumably nobody dared bring it up. We still fear a little reality about the transmission of disease in a world where borders no longer exist in the rush for globalised profit and concomitant unstoppable uncontrolled migration. This didn’t have to happen. We could have stopped it

Soft & Quiet (2022)

We’re all brainwashed. All of us. Kindergarten teacher Emily (Stefanie Estes) organises the first-time meeting of the Daughters for Aryan Unity,’ an organisation of white supremacist Caucasian women, which includes  ex-con Leslie (Olivia Luccardi), grocery store owner Kim (Dana Millican) and disgruntled single girl retail worker Marjorie (Eleanore Pienta). The members present have various grievances against immigrants, Jews, feminists, diversity quotas, and organisations like Black Lives Matter. The meeting, held in a church building, is cut short when the church pastor (Josh Peters, the film’s producer) uncomfortable with the topic of the group insists Emily leave. To save face, Emily decides to invite the others to her home; Leslie, Kim, and Marjorie accept. The four travel to Kim’s store for food and drink. While Emily is selecting wine, Asian-American sisters Anne (Melissa Paulo) and Lily (Cissy Ly) arrive. Unaware that the shop was closed, they try to purchase wine but are refused service by Kim. Lily confronts Kim refusing service, causing Emily to intervene. Anne attempts to defuse the situation, only to be intimidated by Emily into purchasing the most expensive wine on the shelf. As the two sisters leave, Marjorie initiates a verbal confrontation with Anne which degenerates into violence. Kim arms herself with a pistol and forces the sisters out at gunpoint; while leaving Lily taunts Emily about her brother, who is currently in a county prison serving time for raping Anne. Emily’s husband Craig (Jon Beavers) arrives and attempts to defuse the situation but Leslie is incensed and suggests going to Anne’s home to vandalise the property and steal her passport Craig initially refuses but is embarrassed by Emily into going along. Emily mentions certain details about the house, such as Anne’s living there alone and that she inherited it when her mother died. Craig tells Emily he is disturbed that she’s been keeping track of Anne like this. The four women and Craig arrive at the lakeside home and perform acts of petty vandalism before Kim finds Anne’s passport. Before they can leave, Anne and Lily suddenly arrive home and discover the intruders. They weren’t supposed to be fucking home! Confused and unsure of what to do, the home invaders bind and gag Anne and Lily at gunpoint and discuss their options. Unable to condone the situation, Craig leaves. Leslie suggests cleaning up the property to remove physical evidence of their presence and intimidating the sisters to keep them quiet. While drinking, Leslie and Marjorie beat Anne and Lily and force-feed Lily various food and drink. Then Lily begins to choke … The first thing you’ve got to do is take the media back from the Jews. This audacious and disturbing debut written, produced and directed by Beth de Araujo shocks and disturbs from the get go: when Emily arrives at the mixer she gets the first piece of the cherry pie she’s brought. It has a swastika cut into it. The camera lingers on that pie for an awfully long time. Our minds think, Nice as pie. American Pie. This is a meeting of Daughters for Aryan Unity. That’s just the first jaw drop: this isn’t some allegory, this is about actual American Nazis. And they’re all women. When they’re booted out of the church the solution for Emily is to get some wine and make an evening of it but then a girl surfaces who reminds the jittery Emily of what happened to her brother. She instigates a vile prank that goes horribly wrong and results in torture, rape and murder. Her husband exits early as the marital differences that were manifest in a failure to get pregnant now reflect on his masculinity – he’s just concerned that he’s being embroiled in a felony and doesn’t want to go to jail. He’s already participated in kidnapping. It’s the escalation to extreme violence at warp speed that’s so compelling. It’s paralleled and to an extent driven by envy: those apparently mixed race girls (Leslie accuses them of having had a wetback father) have a piano. They have a lot of cash. They live in a really nice house. They can afford a $300 bottle of wine. But Ann is a waitress. So what gives? The screenplay pulls no punches about the older women’s class and financial positions – they’re cheap people with dodgy records, their politics are on the nose and directly confrontational. The aesthetic choice to shoot this entire film in one take (kudos to cinematographer Greta Zozula) gives this a striking urgency. We just can’t look away as we are immersed in awfulness. The media loves to portray us as big scary monsters. Am I really that scary? The rape and murder occur literally just under the camera. The contrast between how Emily looks – she moves like a ballerina, she could be a model with those symmetrical features, lean body and long straight blonde hair – and what she says and how Leslie carries out what Emily really wants to happen couldn’t be starker. And it seems like she’s doing it as a quid pro quo to get Emily to pose in her vintage clothes online. The stakes are high for everyone concerned – Kim is freaking out about losing her kids – but they each just go along with the unfolding horror. White people are the worst! As a comment about the state of race relations in the US this presents a spectrum in terms of representation. One woman is the daughter of a KKK member, another is a housewife stuck at home with her kids, one is a baby boomer, another can’t have babies – and she’s the protagonist, the kindergarten teacher telling a little boy to have a go at an immigrant cleaning lady at the school. The politics they espouse are ‘soft and quiet’ and other than punky crim Leslie they look like butter wouldn’t melt but they’re participating in a gendered race war. It slides straight into genre action territory for the last half hour and there’s even a twist. It’s horrible but like we said – this is made from the perspective of racists and you just can’t take your eyes off it because the viewer is implicated from the off. A Blumhouse production. We all have great genes