Movie-shaping Hugo Chávez: Part Two

In an attempt to archive some academic papers I've written over the past few years (relying on the hard drives of sometimes faulty PCs has left me tired and frustrated), I will be uploading some of my old work to this blog over the next few weeks. Here is one on Venezuelan president Hugo Chávez and the way three somewhat recent documentaries depicted his controversial reign and character.

Taking a step back and viewing the Chávez reign from an outsider's perspective, PBS' Frontline: The Hugo Chávez Show can be appreciated as a sequel to O' Briain and Bartley's film. It covers more ground, features thought-provoking interviews, and is fairly judgmental of the Chávez hoopla that runs wild in the Venezuelan media today. Bikel's main source is the president's Sunday morning show, Aló Presidente, (categorized in the listings as a variety entertainment). Half monologue and half audience participation reality program, Aló Presidente features Chávez, located in a different area of the country most every week, speaking to his people across the airwaves about life, global affairs, solidarity, and the growing incompetence of George W. Bush. Both a witch hunt and a public roast, the show spends hours criticizing figures of other countries as well as members of Chávez's administration. This is what makes the show a must watch. The president often asks questions of his staff (who are required to be in the audience for every weekly taping), appearing to start out sincere enough before drawing into an antagonizing “why didn't you do this, why didn't you do that?” angry tirade. Each person is called out for their shortcomings, giving Aló Presidente a livewire feeling that anyone could be next.

      Chávez's show, however, is not without its democracy. He often asks for questions from the audience, and it is to his credit that the questions are not pre-screened or pre-approved by his staff. Being able to voice any concerns they may have most definitely gives power over to the people. It is therefore unfortunate that Chávez usually either avoids the question or attacks the inquiring person for asking it. In front of millions of people watching at home, the president verbally destroys anyone that dare imply that he is anything less than perfect. Bikel's best examples of this are of a man that voices concern over forcing people to leave their homes for a new land Chávez wants to turn socialist, and of a British reporter who asks why the president thinks he should be allowed to stay in office indefinitely while no other political figure is given that right. Chávez subsequently asks about the reporter's roots and uses stereotypes to vilify him. The reporter did have a good question though: if Chávez uses Aló Presidente as a marketing tool to push his campaign, is the show really a public forum or a piece of patronizing agitprop? Chávez demands on the show, albeit very coyly, that his people should say yes to allowing him to stay in office past his term's expiration date. Is any of this ethical? Do people watch the show for intelligent answers or for lies? As to what it says about Chávez's God complex by having Aló Presidente air every Sunday morning during (to hear the president's holy sermon, for lack of a better term) is left for viewers to debate.

     What Bikel's film lacks in style it makes up for in content. Of the three docs, it is the Frontline piece that feels that most expansive and most willing to get to the real meat of the matter. Whereas The Revolution Will Not Be Televised touched on Venezuela's television station battles, Bikel's film adds a helpful addendum to the issue. Chávez, perhaps concerned over another coup, went on to shut down most of the private stations which opposed him — Venezuelans were upset over this, not because of their lack of news options but because of the now unavailability of their favorite soap operas. Bikel also shows that even though Chávez gave many young people a way to upstart business opportunities, he never provided them with the needed education to sustain them. This emphasizes a recurring theme in the film, one of carelessness. The crime rate that the Bolívarian Chávez fought so hard to bring down as a revolutionary soldier is still as high as ever; many shop owners get robbed at least once a week even though they are supposedly protected by surrounding steel bars. These underprivileged men and women, working hard for a livable income, seem forgotten by the man that they once felt was one of their own. He uses them when it makes him look good; an episode of Aló Presidente, focusing on the building an area of condominiums for the people, becomes more noteworthy for what it doesn't become rather then for what it does.

      Some theoretical food for thought is provided by various scholars, the most intriguing being the belief that Chávez is secretly upset about not having a particular global event to define his presidency. He hasn't been through a war, has never drastically changed things in his country, and his legacy, whatever that is, is still unclear. For someone whose idol is Simón Bolívar, what does Chávez have to show in comparison? We are told that this is why he consistently picks a fight with the former president of the United States, George W. Bush. The Venezuelan leader knew that Bush's stable feared Chávez and wanted him out of power, and so every week on Aló Presidente, he would taunt the president and berate him to no end. Much of this was for show, Bikel implies. Venezuela was heavily reliant on America's interest in their oil and could never afford to cut off ties completely with the United States government. One would have to assume Chávez knew this. Now under a new leader (Barack Obama), America has reached out to mend things with Chávez to mixed results. The two men exchanged a handshake and a gift when their paths crossed two years ago. Of course, Obama was criticized by the right wing conservatives for this, for they felt that he should hold nothing but malice for the man, but one has to wonder how Chávez felt. He still strives for a viable enemy to historically define him (although hopefully it doesn't turn out to be his own people).