vested in our politics. Coal is a part of life here in our West, and its expanding journey to markets in China has many wishing it weren’t anymore. So there are few surprises to be gleaned in Momenta, a film devoted to further exposing the dirtiness of coal development in Montana and Wyoming’s Powder River Basin and squeezing it into the increasingly crowded narrative of global climate change. For those unfamiliar with the debate, Momenta offers a crash course from the side of the opposition, dropping little nuggets of knowledge here and there like chunks of coal from a train car. For most, though, the film comes more as an emotional affirmation than a
revelation. Yes, there are people throughout the Pacific Northwest who are just as outraged, just as moved to action. You are not alone. “If we cook this wonderful planet we’re living on, we’re not going to have human existence,” says famed Bozeman climber and Momenta narrator Conrad Anker in the film’s opening moments. Anker acknowledges he’ll be fine. He’ll still have his coffee and be able to drive to the mountains long before the oven timer beeps. “But what’s it going to be like 200 years down the line?” The most soul-wrenching moments come early, as when LJ Turner, a Wyoming cattle rancher, talks of the Powder River
Basin as a sacrifice zone singled out to benefit some corporation’s bottom line. “Mr. Peabody’s coal train is carrying Wyoming away,” he says, pointing to a line of BNSF railcars plodding through the distance. Like those coal trains, Momenta itself rumbles quickly past Turner and onward to Spokane, Portland and Bellingham, with brief stops in Billings, Missoula and Sandpoint. It’s a bit disappointing that Momenta doesn’t spend more time in our backyard. Missoula City Councilman Dave Strohmaier provides a momentary look at the stakes here, explaining that the anticipated 50- to 100-percent bump in coal train traffic could impede local commerce and public safety
by blocking downtown corridors like Madison Street. But the film is off to the next station in a flash, making Strohmaier something of a missed opportunity. As the producers point out, each train loses an estimated 31 tons of coal and coal dust during its trek to the coast—which at 18 trains a day pencils out to roughly 204,000 tons annually. That concern has prompted Missoula officials to urge the Army Corps of Engineers in recent years to extend its environmental reviews of proposed coal port projects up the line. The Army Corps declined the first time around, but the hubbub raised here did compel the Washington Department of Ecology to step in and assess such im-
ALSO PLAYING From pet foxes to fake families, even more films to consider by Jule Banville, Skylar Browning, Molly Laich, Josh Wagner and Kate Whittle Prison Terminal: The Last Days of Private Jack Hall It’s not easy to watch a man die. It starts in the eyes, with a soft glaze and a distant stare. There’s muttering and confusion. Breathing becomes labored until, eventually, one day, the chest doesn’t struggle to rise once more. The jaw goes slack. Skin color fades. The title of Prison Terminal: The Last Days of Private Jack Hall prepares viewers for what they’re about to watch, and it’s a raw sight. But the power of this Academy Awardnominated short film isn’t as much in Hall’s death as it is in the compassion of those who surround him during his final hours. The Iowa State Penitentiary created a hospice program in 2004 funded entirely through donations and staffed by specially trained prisoners serving life sentences. Prison Terminal, which was filmed by director Edgar Barens in 2006, follows Hall, 82, as he’s moved from the prison’s infirmary to one of two beautifully decorated rooms designed for end-of-life care. One prisoner made the curtains. Another constructed the bookcase. Hall’s own snapshots fill bulletin boards on the wall. Men with names like Glove, Herky and Love, each serving time for murder or kidnapping, commit to Hall’s 24-hour care, including back massages, showers and lots of prayer. The men take their responsibilities seriously, and speak eloquently about the redemptive nature of their work. They even conduct tours for visitors to help generate support for the hospice program. Hall provides a perfect study for such a heartwarming endnote to a life of hard time. The former World War II veteran, who was convicted of murder, speaks with a quick wit and demonstrates a steely resolve in early interviews. He has tattoos of naked women on his torso and forearm, and one on his fingers that reads “Love is Hell.” We learn that he’s also racist, or at least used to
be. But as his health deteriorates and he’s left to the care of three selfless black men, it’s clear that he’s found some level of peace with his place in the world. We should all be so lucky to die that way. (SB) Screens Sun., Feb. 16 at 5:15 PM at the Wilma. Nominee for Best Short.
Mistaken For Strangers Behind many artsy, passionate musicians are humdrum upbringings and dorky families they’d rather not talk about during interviews with Pitchfork. In the case of Matt Berninger, lead singer for super-literate, broody Brooklyn rock band The National, he’s embarrassed about his younger brother, chubby metal nerd Tom Berninger. Mistaken For Strangers, shot mostly by Tom on a handheld camera, was meant to be a rock documentary made while Tom roadied for his brother’s band during several months of touring. But as the documentary progresses, the already uneasy relationship between the two deteriorates, and Tom keeps recording during many tense moments. Mistaken For Strangers is a portrait of two brothers, both odd and creative and smart, but one has channeled it into mainstream success and
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the other is still floundering along, being a screw-up and a goofball. If you’re a fan of The National, admittedly an uber-serious band, you might not be surprised to see that Matt is intense and unforgiving of his brother’s quirks. Tom is painful to watch at times, as he pesters the other band members with weird questions and invites himself along where he’s not wanted. But it’s clear,
from scenes where he gets drunk and listens to Halford’s Christmas album, that he’s still the person you’d rather party with. The end of Mistaken For Strangers seems to reach something of a resolution between the two squabbling brothers, but anyone with close family knows that sibling rivalry never really ends. It’s a “rock documentary” that accidentally became a poignant, funny and authentic-feeling picture of fame and family life. (KW) Screens Mon., Feb. 17 at 7:45 PM at the Wilma.
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Mistaken For Strangers
[18] Missoula Independent • February 13–February 20, 2014
In director Matt Wolf’s film, we learn that teenagers didn’t always exist. In fact, the distinction is an invention born mostly out of war and a changing economic and political landscape the world over. Wolf tells the story of the teenager’s fight for a collective identity through remarkable archival footage, starting from before World War I and more or less wrapping up around the end of World War II. The images have an almost fake, dreamlike quality, coupled with the voiceover nar-