Thinking About Waste Land
February 3, 2010
(Sorry today’s post is so long — I just had more to say than usual!)
In one of my first posts, I mentioned that I really enjoyed Waste Land. Well, apparently I’m not the only one who was touched by the movie — because Waste Land won the Audience Award in the international documentary competition.
As part of the “class” aspect of the Sundance trip, we all wrote theological reflections on some of the films we saw. Let me share with you a version of what I wrote about Waste Land.
For me, the highlight of the festival competition films was Waste Land, a documentary in which artist Vik Muniz collaborated with Brazilian “recyclable collectors” who daily climb over piles of garbage in the world’s largest landfill. The director of the film, Lucy Walker, introduced it with the statement, “Ninety-nine is not one hundred.” It soon became clear why.
Using photographs that Muniz took of the workers as a guide, the collectors arranged materials dug out of the landfill to create gigantic portraits that, from the ground, appeared to be merely piles of junk. But from the vantage point of a multi-story scaffold, the portraits were revealed to be beautifully-nuanced works. The change in the “point of view” played a large role in the documentary and the perception of the landfill workers.
I’ll admit to having prejudices about what sort of person works as a “glorified garbage collector.” But I was astounded by the beauty of human life in this forgotten place. The cast included a gorgeous young lady who was proud to be a collector in a legitimate, if unglamorous, profession — rather than turning to prostitution. Then there was the young man who rescued books from the landfill, and had read Machiavelli’s The Prince! And the leader of the local union had charisma and strong pride in the environmental impact that the workers were having. It was a really “green” operation!
As these “untouchables” were revealed for the people they are, and my own assumptions were removed, life’s sanctity was brought to the forefront. Though there was no specifically-religious emphasis to Waste Land, the people in the film were exalted as far more than the product of random evolution or as “cogs” in some great machine.
Their value speaks to their status as people created in the image of God. I was thankful that this doc forced me to humbly look at how I view people — whether through the eyes of the God who came to redeem the entire human race, or as a middle-class student who won’t venture outside the comfortable realm of “home.”
Before seeing the film, I thought it was “about an artist and some junk.” But by the end of the movie, my heart was broken for the formerly-nameless collectors in the landfill. From God’s “point of view,” they were each unique — like their portraits. Thanks to the doc, they stood out as individuals, rather than just members of a class — each a valuable member of my world. Every one counts… “ninety-nine is not one hundred.”
