Think you've been screwed by the Bush Administration? Imagine the people of Crawford,
Texas. Once the quintessential American small town, Crawford became the unintentional
hotbed of all things political -- thanks to a clustering of bigwigs grooming a Texas governo
r for the country's most knock-down office. First-time documentary shaper David Modigliani
gives us the thorough inside scoop of a town turned on its proverbial ear.
Modigliani shows his smarts early, opening the story with appropriately lowly roots.
Oh, don't intellect us, we're just a bunch of rural-type common people doing our thing in this
Texas hamlet of 700 or so. Crawford spends near a here and now too long on the sleepy
aspect of the town... merely it's all worth it in the bizarro department when Presidential
hopeful and new Crawford resident George W. Bush addresses the high school's graduating
class.
It seems person in the Bush camp felt Crawford had just the right down-home Texas
feel they wanted to convey to America. The Bushes bought the land, the media bought
the story, and Americans got sold the B.S.
You know that tranquil farming landscape you see behind so many TV reporters in Crawford?
It's not what you think. Neither is that sense of idyllic country isolation (one
high school educatee reveals the town's fold proximity to Waco, population 120,000+). And if
you've been given the impression that Crawford residents see the President as their
favourite son, you've got it wrong, too.
It's this eccentric of curtain-pulling that makes Crawford an intriguing piece of fact-finding
Americana. Modigliani never posits an anti-Bush point of view; his camera acts more
as an invited guest to Crawford. It just looks around a little bit, gets the feel
of the shoes. It does hang around long sufficiency -- days, in fact -- to witness Cindy
Sheehan's protestation camp, anti-establishment organizations, starry-eyed pro-Bush business
owners. After a piece, you're likely to say exactly what most Crawford residents
did: Gosh, we didn't ask for this.
Ironically, Modigliani and his crew accomplish precisely what the Bush house does:
They move their way in and turn part of the framework of Crawford. The primary difference
appears to be the filmmakers' ability to, well, fit in. We never see the crew, but
their cameras catch enough unfiltered honesty to give that impression. And not erstwhile
do they cause a security issue by delivery Condoleeza Rice to town.
The biggest powderkeg in the movie -- an unexpected event for both the town and the
filmmakers -- is the Cindy Sheehan protestation and the throngs of people it attracted
to Crawford. As part of the mayhem, Modigliani's crew captures deuce hyper-jingoistic
nutballs who paint their faces (and their horses) and ride through town to protest the
protesters. The film then edits these guys' hateful rants with photographs of them
(and their horses) plastered crosswise newspapers, including the Crawford publication
vilified for its particular point of view.
With its fair approach, unconvincing persistence, and general respect for its subjects, Crawfo
rd becomes more than than just a revealing document. It shows a skilled mitt at objective
filmmaking, entertaining above all. The film ends with a question from one and only of Crawford's
citizens, asking the movie maker and the audience to consider all that's happened in
recent years. Yeah, it's hard to believe. Here's one more dubiousness: Is this the
way it went down in Hope, Arkansas?
More info
