Filmmaker Joe Berlinger. Photo: Ali Pflaum

I was first introduced to the term “paradox of plenty,” also known as the “resource curse,” last month when reading Crude World: The Violent Twilight of Oil in advance of my interview with the author, investigative journalist Peter Maass. He writes in the introduction that the resource curse “…posits that countries dependent on resource exports—especially oil but also natural gas, diamonds and other minerals—are susceptible to lower growth, higher corruption, less freedom and more welfare. As the graffiti I saw on a pipeline in Ecuador’s Amazon region stated, “Más Petróleo = Más Pobreza”—more oil equals more poverty.”

A new documentary film of a similar title, Crude: The Real Price of Oil, closely examines the Oriente region of Ecuador that Maass visited while researching for the book. The paradox is starkly evident in this region, once a pristine rainforest area that since the discovery of oil in the 1960s has become the site of what some say is the largest environmental disaster in the world—30 times the size of the 1989 ExxonValdez oil spill, the plaintiffs’ lawyers claim.

The pollution from three decades of oil extraction by Texaco has led to the plight of generations of Ecuadorians who call themselves “Los Afectados” or “the affected ones.” More than 30,000 Los Afectados are suing Chevron, which bought Texaco in 2001, for $27 billion in damages. Chevron lawyers claim that the $40 million remediation agreement in the mid-nineties absolved them of any further liability.

Since I first wrote about the film in March, it’s won a number of awards in addition to enjoying critical acclaim from the New York Times, The Hollywood Reporter, and Variety, among others. I spoke with director Joe Berlinger via email about the film, his approach to advocacy filmmaking, and whether there’s light at the end of the, er, pipeline.

Q. How does your style of filmmaking, which strives to tell all sides of a story, encourage activism? Do you consider yourself an activist? A storyteller? A journalist?

A. I consider myself a storyteller first and a journalist second, although that does not mean I take my journalistic responsibilities lightly. And while I think all documentary filmmaking is inherently subjective, there are certain lines one cannot cross when working in nonfiction, such as manipulating chronology or the glaring omission of key facts. As a storyteller, I am also looking to graft classic narrative structure onto a real life story, so I consider myself more of a chronicler of the human condition than an activist. That said, in trying to reach people emotionally, I think my films encourage activism, but not in the traditional sense of the word. I want to inspire people to take a fresh look at the world around them, and that encourages activism on many levels – whether it inspires people to make films, or get involved in a legal case, or challenge stereotypes and see people in a new light.

For me, a balanced approach to telling a story in which all sides have their say is the best way to encourage this kind of activism because I believe it is a more persuasive style of filmmaking. Specifically, I avoid a singular point of view and I eschew voice-over narration and other techniques that tell an audience exactly how to think about a subject. I believe the best way to serve the truth is to explore a situation from all sides without overtly revealing the filmmaker’s viewpoint, allowing each audience member to come up with his or her own conclusion about the events they are witnessing on screen. This is the opposite approach of the standard environmental and human rights advocacy film in which a single point of view is clearly conveyed, an approach that risks preaching to the converted instead of winning new people over through the active process of weighing the pros and cons. When a single point of view is repeatedly conveyed to an audience, it is a passive experience for the viewer and often less emotionally engaging. When the audience is forced to weigh the pros and cons of a situation, it is a more active viewing experience and therefore ultimately more persuasive when the audience decides to embrace the advocacy that is being expressed by the film. I believe it’s through allowing for and encouraging this kind of emotional commitment from the viewer that a film can inspire a greater level of activism.

One of the hundreds of oil waste pits that dot the landscape in the Amazon rainforest of Ecuador. Photo: Sebastian Posingis

Q. What was your first trip to the Ecuadorian Amazon region like?

A. On my first trip to Ecuador, I was shocked by the foul petrochemical sludge and toxic water that, for decades, had been dumped into open pits or directly into the area’s rivers and streams and was surprised at the scant press coverage this story had received in the U.S. I talked with people who were sick and dying from cancer and other maladies — some of the 30,000 settlers and indigenous people who are signed onto the lawsuit and who call themselves “los afectados” (the affected ones).

On the third day of that first trip, our canoe pulled up to one of the villages of the indigenous Cofán people. As we got out of the canoe, I noticed a group of Cofán sitting by the riverbank, preparing a meal by an open fire using processed tuna fish from a big industrial-sized can that came from another corner of the world. They were preparing their meal right next to the river but were eating this canned tuna because the fish that swam in their river, which had fed these proud people for millennia, were either dead or diseased. This image of indigenous people being forced to eat canned tuna deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest spoke deeply to me. I decided I had to tell their story.

Q. It was announced earlier this week that the judge in the case is being replaced due to Chevron’s allegations that he was involved with bribery. The new judge, Nicolas Zambrano, now must become familiar with more than 17,000 documents in the case, likely pushing the delivery of a verdict back several months if not longer. Is this similar to what happened with the Exxon Valdez case, in which the judicial system allowed two decades to pass before any settlement was received? Does Crude explore other methods of seeking justice outside of the judicial system for the plaintiffs in the Chevron case?

A. One of conclusions I reached while shooting this film, and one of its major themes, is the inadequacy of our current legal structures for dealing with these large-scale humanitarian and environmental crises. We are talking about an area in the Amazon Rainforest the size of Rhode Island that has been decimated by contamination, with reportedly thirty times the damage as the Exxon Valdez.
And yet we are in year 17 of this lawsuit with no end in sight. We end the film with the image of the Cofán people on a boat headed back down river to a very questionable future because while the lawyers continue to battle it out for the next decade, these people must return home to their polluted land and water. At least three generations of people will suffer before there is any resolution in this case. We as a civilized society should not let that be the case. We must figure out a way of solving these conflicts in a more timely manner. Even with the Exxon Valdez calamity, in which no one was contesting the responsibility for the damage as is being done in the Chevron case, it took almost two decades for the court-awarded compensation to the people of that region to actually get paid, and, as a final slap in the face to that community, Exxon was able to convince a judge to reduce that compensation by 80 percent in a twelfth-hour legal maneuver. So, while the Chevron lawsuit is historic and important (it is the first time indigenous people have hauled a foreign corporation into the courts of their own country to seek environmental remediation), this should not be the only way society responds to the humanitarian crisis that these environmental calamities produce. That is one reason that the film takes a little bit of a left turn to focus on the fresh drinking water project that Sting and his activist wife Trudie Styler bring to the region. We wanted to highlight that there are responses to this crisis beyond the lawsuit that we should demand of each other and of our leaders.

Q. How important is the role of celebrity in this particular case?

Director Joe Berlinger (right) films plaintiffs’ attorney Steven Donziger and Rainforest Foundation co-founder Trudie Styler in the Ecuadorean Amazon. Photo: Sebastian Posingis

A. Crude is not a traditional advocacy film, as evidenced by both its multiple-viewpoint approach, and because in addition to advocating for the plight of the indigenous people of the Amazon Rainforest, the camera self-reflexively pulls back to observe the advocacy movement itself. In other words, it is a film that is not just about the plight of the plaintiffs but is also a warts-and-all portrait of all of the actions the plaintiffs (and the defendants) must take in order to pursue their case inside and outside of the courtroom. One of those plaintiffs’ activities is attracting celebrities to their cause. It is only through the attention of Sting and Trudie that the case gains international attention. Thus, the film observes that uncomfortable intersection between celebrity culture and social activism. This is not a criticism of Sting and Trudie, for whom I have tremendous admiration and respect. In fact, the only tangible benefits that the people of the region receive is the fresh drinking Water Project that Trudie brings to the table. But, the film definitely poses the question of why it often takes celebrity attention to a cause to garner mainstream media attention. One of the reasons I started Crude was my surprise that despite environmental damage thirty times the size of the Exxon Valdez, this story was barely being reported in the United States. Why does the media need the celebrity hook to make a story more reportable?

Q. What are the broader themes of Crude, beyond the story of the lawsuit?

A. In many ways, the lawsuit is a structural excuse to make a film about much larger issues. When I first visited the indigenous communities that had been so deeply affected by oil production in the region, I was shocked at the utter disregard that had been shown towards them and their environment. I am not smart enough to figure out if Chevron has enough legal arguments on its side to prevail in the lawsuit, but I do know that what I experienced in the Amazon has no moral justification. Walking around these indigenous villages prompted an epiphany for me that is the guiding spirit of what Crude is ultimately about. For the last six centuries, white people have treated indigenous people in a shameful manner – from the Spanish Conquistadores
to the founding of the United States, through the eradication and displacement of the American Indian, right up until today, with the behavior of multinational companies in the extractive industries in places like Ecuador…. There is an institutional racism—a disregard for the rights of people whose lifestyles are different than our collectively consumptive own. This was my wake up call, and I hope others will become much more aware of how our consumption patterns in this country affect people in other parts of the globe.

Q. What’s next for you after Crude?

A. A film like Crude is a labor of love both in the making of it and in getting it out to the world, so I am deeply involved in getting audiences to see the film right now. Focusing on new projects is a bit of a challenge. However, we begin production shortly on season 5 of Iconoclasts , a unique documentary series that I helped create for Sundance Channel. I am also developing a feature film based on Julie Salamon’s acclaimed nonfiction book Facing the Wind, a true story of a man who kills his entire family in a moment of insanity, then begins a new life with a new family. The film explores the limits of forgiveness and redemption. Finally, I am starting production on a new feature documentary about horror writer and filmmaker Clive Barker. By observing Barker at work, the film will explore the emotion of fear.

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Visit the film’s Web site for showtimes, to watch the trailer, and find out how to get involved.

Photo of gas flare: David Gilbert.