Review: COLLAPSE
Documentary filmmaker Chris Smith and investigative reporter Michael Ruppert have a story to tell. The truth here is as far beyond inconvenient as a modern BMW is beyond the pony express. If there is ever a film that makes you want to bunker down with gallons of fresh water and a million cans of baked beans it is not The Day After, or even The Day After Tomorrow, it is Collapse.
Taking a more than a cue from Errol Morris and his Robert McNamara doc, The Fog Of War, Smith plants Ruppert in a chair and has him draw out the map of the world going to hell in a hand basket over the next decade, give or take a few years. His picture is not a pretty one. But it is compelling due to Ruppert's level-headed fanaticism on the subject (some might call it passion). Peak Oil, economic derivatives, the growing population, the 2nd world's rising consumption are all laid out in between puffs of cigarette smoke and stock footage cut-aways. Alternative energies are mostly disqualified on the simple thermodynamic principle that you have to get more energy out of a source than you put in to get it out of the ground/air/sea. Worried about running out of gas for your hybrid vehicle? How about all the oil bi-products used to make the tires (9 gallons per tire), paints, plastic and all the fuel burned up in the logistics of getting it assembled. Food? Ten times the energy put in compared to the amount to the amount of energy gotten from consuming it in our modern industrialized society. The local food movement is only the tip of the iceberg, as when all the oil-driven aspects of modern society start squeaking to a halt, everything will become local.
Conspiracy Theory? Overly pessimistic worldview? These are also questions asked (sometimes directly to his subject from off camera by the director) to which Ruppert gets angry or just pushes on with more dots to be connected and ugliness on the horizon. He has little faith in human ingenuity in the face of the ugly edifice of the last 100+ year dependence on easily accessible oil. And the force of the delivery is as much like a pragmatic academic as it is a tent revival high-priest. Fact or fiction (and I personally lean a degree or two towards the former) this is one of the performances of the year. Theatrical and chilling, Ruppert breaks down in tears when opining that family and community is the best weapon against the coming collapse (He lives alone, in debt, with his dog). He feels sorry for how far newly elected President Obama's (Collapse was filmed in March 2009) hands are strapped behind his back by circumstances set in motion 25 years ago and more.
Chris Smith's penchant for driven and marginalized individuals (American Movie, The Yes Men) have found in Michael Ruppert the ultimate subject. The presentation and style (an ominously slow tracking camera, frequent cuts to black, many cigarettes being lit) go a long way to augmenting and underscoring Ruppert's apocalyptic prophecy. The title dovetails into Ruppert's own personal collapses (failed marriage, marginalization from the mainstream media, etc.) based on his own collective obsessions. Yet, given a voice here, in this film, it terrifies and connects far more than the usual run-of-the-mill disaster entertainment like 2012 or 28 Days Later even Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story or Peter Watkins' The War Game. Collapse is the film to beat in the 'were fucked' disaster sweepstakes. Quite simply, it is the horror movie of the year. Likely, it will act as a gateway drug for those unaware of the Peak Oil movement and a panic alarm drumbeat of things to come. Even for those familiar with peak oil, or the basic chemistry that the bulk of products we use are a significant percentage oil - either in construction or transportation - it is hard not to walk away shaken by Ruppert's level-eyed account.
And remember if you are in a camp and the bear is attacking, you don't have to be faster than the bear, just faster than slowest camper.
Taking a more than a cue from Errol Morris and his Robert McNamara doc, The Fog Of War, Smith plants Ruppert in a chair and has him draw out the map of the world going to hell in a hand basket over the next decade, give or take a few years. His picture is not a pretty one. But it is compelling due to Ruppert's level-headed fanaticism on the subject (some might call it passion). Peak Oil, economic derivatives, the growing population, the 2nd world's rising consumption are all laid out in between puffs of cigarette smoke and stock footage cut-aways. Alternative energies are mostly disqualified on the simple thermodynamic principle that you have to get more energy out of a source than you put in to get it out of the ground/air/sea. Worried about running out of gas for your hybrid vehicle? How about all the oil bi-products used to make the tires (9 gallons per tire), paints, plastic and all the fuel burned up in the logistics of getting it assembled. Food? Ten times the energy put in compared to the amount to the amount of energy gotten from consuming it in our modern industrialized society. The local food movement is only the tip of the iceberg, as when all the oil-driven aspects of modern society start squeaking to a halt, everything will become local.
Conspiracy Theory? Overly pessimistic worldview? These are also questions asked (sometimes directly to his subject from off camera by the director) to which Ruppert gets angry or just pushes on with more dots to be connected and ugliness on the horizon. He has little faith in human ingenuity in the face of the ugly edifice of the last 100+ year dependence on easily accessible oil. And the force of the delivery is as much like a pragmatic academic as it is a tent revival high-priest. Fact or fiction (and I personally lean a degree or two towards the former) this is one of the performances of the year. Theatrical and chilling, Ruppert breaks down in tears when opining that family and community is the best weapon against the coming collapse (He lives alone, in debt, with his dog). He feels sorry for how far newly elected President Obama's (Collapse was filmed in March 2009) hands are strapped behind his back by circumstances set in motion 25 years ago and more.
Chris Smith's penchant for driven and marginalized individuals (American Movie, The Yes Men) have found in Michael Ruppert the ultimate subject. The presentation and style (an ominously slow tracking camera, frequent cuts to black, many cigarettes being lit) go a long way to augmenting and underscoring Ruppert's apocalyptic prophecy. The title dovetails into Ruppert's own personal collapses (failed marriage, marginalization from the mainstream media, etc.) based on his own collective obsessions. Yet, given a voice here, in this film, it terrifies and connects far more than the usual run-of-the-mill disaster entertainment like 2012 or 28 Days Later even Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story or Peter Watkins' The War Game. Collapse is the film to beat in the 'were fucked' disaster sweepstakes. Quite simply, it is the horror movie of the year. Likely, it will act as a gateway drug for those unaware of the Peak Oil movement and a panic alarm drumbeat of things to come. Even for those familiar with peak oil, or the basic chemistry that the bulk of products we use are a significant percentage oil - either in construction or transportation - it is hard not to walk away shaken by Ruppert's level-eyed account.
And remember if you are in a camp and the bear is attacking, you don't have to be faster than the bear, just faster than slowest camper.
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