The Plot:
In December of 1989, the government of Romanian dictator Nicolai Ceaucescu was in deep trouble. Massive demonstrations have rocked the capital of Bucharest and the ruling Communist Party cannot control the mobs. Naturally, violence breaks out between the secret police and the citizens, resulting in an amplifying of tensions. With his power dissipating, Ceaucescu flees, and the people take over. They raid Party headquarters, and confront the State run TV station. They want to broadcast immediately, hoping to get the military on their side. There are calls for free elections, the releasing of political dissidents, and the need for unity, not infighting. Of course, there are still factions loyal to Ceaucescu attempting the thwart the overthrow, but it is far too little too late.

Eventually, the people succeed. The dictator is caught, tried and executed, and a country that's lived in darkness for decades finally sees the lovely light of freedom. In fact, the majority of that magical glow comes from televisions around the country. Broadcasting for nearly 120 hours straight, poets and pundits, individuals striving to change the political dynamic of Romania have been showing material, some of it captured by amateurs with their own cameras, to illustrate the revolutionary changes first hand. Thanks to directors Harun Farocki and Andrej Ujica, we have a chance to witness many of the most important of these Videograms of a Revolution, to see firsthand how Romanians fought for, and achieved, their independence.

The DVD:
History is always best served unedited and without agenda. Truth will always arrive once the facts are laid out in front of us. The minute we start manipulating the image, editing out material while emphasizing other elements, we start the process of propaganda. Soon, what really happened is not as important as what we are supposed to think happened. Documentaries, for the most part, are guilty of controlling interviews and individuals in order to achieve a kind of thematic resonance. Even in the most open of all styles, the caught-as-it-happens cinema vérité variety, issues during and after production plot to modify reality to fit a specific point or position. Very few films simply allow events to play out, uninterrupted and without critical commentary. Yet this is exactly the way directors Harun Farocki and Andrej Ujica want you to think of their film Videograms of a Revolution. Culled from over 120 hours of Romanian broadcasts (along with individual camcorder footage), there is some breathtaking content here – actual instances of national sovereignty and self-determination caught on tape. But there is also a lot of overreaching arrogance included as well. Indeed, thanks to a mindless voice over narration, a simple struggle for freedom and justice is painted in an aggravating, arty light.

At first, we are drawn in by the raw imagery. Demonstrations like the one's in Eastern Europe following the fall of the Berlin Wall have an epic scope that is impossible to comprehend initially. As we watch the throngs ebb and sway like literal human waves, we are taken aback by the power of such a singular purpose. Hundreds of thousands, all marching for change or just to be heard, shake us back to the founding of any great nation, including our own. Indeed, we always forget that ultimate authority lies in the people, not in the politicians. They have to use cunning and craft to keep their command. But once the citizenry rises, only bullets and bombs can stop them. As we walk into Romania on the verge of collapse and reconfiguration, we marvel at the material – POV shots from all angles, official cameras and amateur video recorders acting as eye witnesses. We sense the spectacle as soon to be deposed dictator Nicolai Ceaucescu reacts with fear as violence erupts just below him. We also stare in disbelief as thousands of protesters raid and loot the records in the State Party Building. There is so much joy in the chaos, so many decades of persecution and oppression being cast off in the anarchy that our heart leaps alongside theirs.

But then Videograms of a Revolution has to go and spoil it by providing a clipped female voice (obviously an interpreter providing the English version of the film's narration) offering artistic analysis of shot compositions and obvious visual dynamics. On occasion, we welcome the input, because it usually arrives with added explanations. At other times, like when a student camcorder captures individuals arriving for the rally, it is absolutely pointless. We don't care about the dichotomy created in the foreground and background action, nor do we see the point being made about the blue sky vs. the industrial gray of the buildings. Perhaps the conversion to English was too literal, or maybe the poetry in the sentiments was hard to comprehend. But instead of enjoying the eavesdropping, we are immediately drawn out of the film and forced to try and reconnect with the content. This also happens in the movie's meandering middle act. After a wonderfully dark sequence were the revolutionary forces attempt to negotiate the terms of the new-fangled Romania (a hilarious reminder that brazen bureaucracy is rebellion's unruly and unavoidable sibling) we get several sequences that lack the context of before. We see generals making phone calls, as converted party officials attempting to salvage some part of the system (and themselves). Though there's an immediacy and an energy to the events, they don't have the same impact as before. It's as if, once the revolution has started, the details lack drama.

This is perhaps the biggest problem in Videograms of the Revolution. A sequence where snipers confront rebels in an unfinished apartment complex in downtown Bucharest is riveting – at least, at first. But then Farocki and Ujica repeat the footage several times. After two or three loops, the same innocent bystanders running into frame to avoid the gunfire, the images lose their punch. We arrive at that jaundiced, jaded state that seems to surround any attempt at journalistic overkill and the shock slips away. It happens again during the trial and execution announcements regarding the captured Ceaucescus. Broadcasts of poets preaching, theater directors crying, and the new rulers instructing the masses are interrupted to show the final moments in the lives of their dethroned leader and his worried wife. As several minutes of this material rolls by, the director cut to individuals sitting in their homes, watching on their own sets. Yet there are no real reactions. A couple of voices shout how "arrogant" the ex-dictator looks, while most just gaze in shell-shocked disbelief. Since they must work with the video shot, it is clear that Farocki and Ujica can't create human drama when there isn't any. Still, it would have been interesting to have more public pronouncements, versus the often unnecessary voice over narrative. The final flickering images of Ceaucescu and his wife as lifeless corpses has a certain potency, but there is no epilogue, no chance to learn what has happened in Romania since Communism fell. Such a wrap up may have been antithetical to what the filmmakers envisioned here, but it would help Videograms of a Revolution have more force. As it stands, it's a fascinating, if flawed, insider's view of how people truly power political change.

The Video:
Offered in a 1.33:1 full screen image, the transfer of Videograms of a Revolution is a victim of the scattershot stock material used. Some of the footage is broadcast quality. Other elements are taken from poorly shot camcorder visuals. The combination may be artistically pleasing, providing the optical equivalent of the confusion and disorder being shown, but it won't make those who look for reference quality DVDs happy.

The Audio:
Similar to the visual side of the release, the sound is equally uneven. We get muffled moments and crystal clear conversations in the Dolby Digital Stereo mix. The soft female voice that does the bulk of the narration does occasionally get lost in the overall aural presentation, but it's not problematic. No, the real trouble here is with the subtitles. As important players speak, spewing sentence after sentence of important information, the translation trails behind, picking up a phrase here, offering up a completed thought there. Watching the film this way, we fell as if we are missing vital contextual data. But this is the way Facet Video wants us to see it, and so we have no choice but to accept the substandard statements.

The Extras:
Sadly, nothing of supplemental or complementary value is offered. This is a bare bones disc with only the movie and a menu choice of scene selections as your potential bonus features.

Final Thoughts:
Since it is about two-thirds successful, Videograms of a Revolution will earn a decent rating of Recommended. This is powerful stuff, that is, when it doesn't wander off into inconclusive, incoherent rambling. Amidst all the live feeds, unedited reports, amateur journalism and national anarchy rests a very important and insightful documentary. As an isolated, ideologically closed society, the United States rarely sees this kind of uprising. We have long since forgotten our rebellious days and tend to view the political problems in other nations as a matter for the government to react towards. While it won't instill any desire to take up arms among the passive participants in the West, Videograms of a Revolution is still worth seeing. The rarity of the subject matter alone would indicate as much. If you're prepared for some preaching, and a few dramatically dry spots, you'll walk away feeling proud for the people of Romania. For several days in December, they took the fate of their nation in their own hands, and held fast. For the most part, it's a stunning sight to see.

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