Jesus he knows me

A well-paired duo of documentaries played at the Balboa all week, and today I made time for Jesus Camp and Al Franken: God Spoke -- as always, a dirt-cheap matinee double feature. I doubt I'd have gone to see either one separately, or even paid full admission for both. But with a free afternoon and time for a walk during autumn's finest hour, I shared the theater with about a dozen elderly folks and viewed two films improved by their juxtaposition.

Jesus Camp addresses Evangelical Christian youth camps and ministries in Missouri and North Dakota, with visits to Colorado Springs and D.C. Most of the film consists of exactly what you'd expect: pre-teens being taught to speak in tongues, being home-schooled about creationism, being lectured about abortionists and the world of sin. According to the filmmakers and distributors, the film allegedly refuses to take sides or judge the ministers and campers, but they certainly come off as kooky zealots. It must be noted, however, that there is almost no way these people could be presented as anything other than kooky zealots. (Unless, of course, you're a Believer.) It's depressing more than anything else. These kids are so vulnerable, and so intent on setting themselves apart from their peers, that watching them be manipulated by their elders in the name of righteousness is crushing.

(Interesting dustup between the filmmakers and megachurch pastor Ted Haggard here and here.)

As much as I'd like to get behind Al Franken, there's something about seeing him speak to high school kids that made me recall the language used in Jesus Camp. (Except, of course, he's using things like mathematics and statistics to make his points, rather than trying to make young people feel good about Jesus.) He is depicted as vulgar and a little vain, yet clearthinking, witty and human. The film does endeavor to present valid criticism (as well as Fox News ranters with little to chew on) but rarely seems like much more than a collection of the kinds of soundbites that are killing cable news and hurting America. I get enough of that already, thanks.


FMFM: Soweto Never Sleeps: Classic Female Zulu Jive, a mid-80s Shanachie compilation of mbaqanga and mqashiyo from the late 1960s and early 1970s. The vocal parts are dazzling, but who's that band? They could've been the Meters. Way underrated with two and a half stars; I wish it were twice as long.