Bastards of the Party

This documentary was excellent and added a new, complex visual interpretation of a very old story - gang violence in L.A.

The documentary was historically correct adding insight to the creation of L.A. gangs and the positive movement they grew out of, hence the title.

From the description of the first decade, the documentary artistically and accurately illustrates the complexities of an additional 4 decades of gang violence incorporating the historical, political, sociological, environmental, economical, and personal factors amazingly well giving it all equal time in such a relevant, meaningful way. As a result, you get drawn into this tragic, sub-cultural story.

In reality, most of this history is captured orally and typically held within the African-American community. The director/narrator, Cle Shaheed Sloan, did an excellent job at capturing these stories and placing them in this factual, visual format.

One of the most captivating parts of the piece were the solutions that these current and ex-bangers shared with Cle near the end of the documentary. The solutions shared were simple yet extremely thoughtful.

One solution was don't allow your children to be labeled with your gang name, i.e. if your gang name is Killa, don't label your son Li'l Killa. You want to give him a chance to grow up with his given name, i.e. Anthony Perkins, which would take him out of the box of his father's gansta lifestyle and the pressure of having to live up to that image/lifestyle. It seems so simple, but it does indeed effect so much.

It is a fact that significant human behavioral change only occurs when humans experience tragic, life altering events. This fact is captured perfectly in this documentary. Bangers operate in the business of death not life and so they are constantly surrounded by and involved in tragic life experiences. So, it was amazing that when these loyal, cradle to the grave, hard-core bangers were forcibly faced with life - their own children - it provoked them to critically think about and problem-solve their current situation motivated by new found hope that their children could have better lives.

Another solution stated called for African-Americans to stop calling each other 'nigga'. In the documentary, Cle explained that saying let's go kill those niggas was as easy as saying let's go kill those animals, those spiders, and so on because it de-personalized your actions and the victims of your actions. But, if you were to say, let's go kill those brothas, it would make you pause and think, "Does it make sense that I would want to kill my brotha?" To take it a step further, if you were to say, let's go kill Anthony, you would not only personalize it and make it real but you would be acknowledging what you were doing which would be planning to murder someone.

Of course, the final conclusion was that gang life was based on destruction and the only way out was jail or death, and that overall banging should be avoided at all costs.

Finally, I have to comment that Cle himself added to the complexity of the gang life as well. Cle's own human characteristics were shown throughout the documentary as he was both partial and impartial as an interviewer and a 'character'. He was impartial when speaking to governmental officials and professors, strictly gathering facts via interview but partial when talking to his homeboys because it is his neighborhood, he himself is an ex-Blood member, and he is very loyal to his neighborhood. He cares very deeply. At one point, someone close to him dies, killed by Crip gang members. At one point he says that he would do something to his slain friend's killer if he were face to face with him, but at another point he says he would not have any interaction with him at all. This is real and illustrates how dynamic human behavior really is and can be.

Overall, this documentary resonated deeply within me and I feel that everyone should view it and discuss it. It really gives you an honest insight to this sub-culture of L.A. gang life and you are able to walk away thinking about how to make changes in your own world/sub-culture.

The Good: This was an informative, compellingly structured documentary on the genesis and evolution of LA gangs. The story is told via an oral history by first generation gang members and then proceeds to unfold with more contemporary members (and ex-members). The film contains a high degree of advocacy (especially in the final 30 minutes) that seems reasonable.

The Not so Good: The director clearly lays the blame for gangs and gang violence on Caucasians. Although there is no disputing that institutionalized racism of slavery on up to the end of segregation definitely created gross economic and social injustices, the director fails to make a compelling case that whites directly caused inner city blacks to wage war on each other for decades. The director touches on some of the more salient factors, such as factory jobs (i.e. unskilled labor) opportunities disappearing, but fails to identify that as a root cause. Instead, we are presented with numerous examples of institutional and individual racism--including conspiracy theories involving Iran-Contra, J. Edgar Hoover, LAPD, et.al. Nowhere within this otherwise excellent documentary does the director touch on individual responsibility, personal morals, etc. Gang members (including murderers) are presented as victims of society. The director focuses much attention on the Black Panther and US movement of the 60s and 70s however this narrative is presented mostly to advance a conspiracy theory of how the FBI sought to destroy the groups, ultimately resulting in a lack of political power and community disarray. He goes on to try and blame the influx of drugs into the community as an orchestrated effort by Washington to fund the Contras.

This film is good and worth a viewing. It provides an interesting insight into the evolution of LA gangs as well as how some African Americans perceive history. Unfortunately the director focuses too much time on trying to shift blame away from the violent trigger-pullers who admittedly were, and are, his friends. He is trying to shape history in a way that absolves his community of responsibility for the violence in order to empower them to find a way out of that lifestyle. This film presents that case well (although not compelling to me); hopefully it will help the next generation steer clear of joining gangs.

I saw a "screening print" of "Bastards of the Party" at the Tribeca Film Festival.

It's helpful to understand the full arc of the documentary as a longitudinal exploration of the roots of gang and police violence in Los Angeles in order to get past the opening section to when the theme is finally declared.

The first part is a salute to the Black Panther Party in California in the 1960's that is at first repetition of the usual history and then degenerates further into interviews with self-aggrandizing, middle-aged survivors posturing for posterity in an effort to preserve the images of themselves they want to project as a legacy that becomes my-eyes-glaze-over cliché-ridden rhetoric for the viewer.

Then director/on screen narrator/participant-witness Cle Shaheed "Bone" Sloan comes on the screen to explain his thesis and the movie really starts getting interesting - that the gangs of L.A. are the titular descendants of the Panthers. He then proceeds to go through the changes in Los Angeles decade by decade, though not strictly chronologically, sociologically, culturally, economically and politically (as well as very personally) to demonstrate how the current volatile racial situation step by step resulted from the destruction of the Party. It serves as chilling non-fiction background to TV series "The Shield," for L.A., and "The Wire," for how applicable it is to many inner cities across the country.

This very much comes across as a story about outlets for testosterone as basic as throughout human history, here channeled in the late twentieth century through the police, politicians, the media and the drug and violence dealing gangs they in some sense created.

Rather than focusing on the usual truisms about single mother-headed families, though we do hear some ranting about dysfunctional family clichés, we see what happened to the men in the African-American community from childhood on under oppressive economic and political conditions, though no mention is made of whatever impact the welfare system had, laid out as if it is a passionate Ken Burns documentary on Reconstruction.

We also don't hear much about nonviolent alternatives rejected or wasted, because the camera focuses on the most charismatic spokesmen -- even if what they are saying is preening bull for the camera. I think that at a certain point even the director realizes the gang members' strenuous comparisons of themselves to the Panthers sound like delusions of grandeur and self-justification. The older gangsters reflecting on the world they want to make now for their children is touching, as it contradicts stereotypes of African-American fathers in the inner city.

But we don't even hear from a woman until near the end as a mother cries about the funeral of her son. And then the funerals mount up, as movingly as any film about genocide.

The finale, however, weakens the impact of the film as the director appears on screen as a former gang banger (and in excerpts from TV interviews, such as with Larry King) just as self-aggrandizing as the opening subjects so we start questioning his credibility.

The film is also weakened when the changes are explained in left-wing jargon, especially as mouthed by white professors (and it's a shame that virtually no non-white academic experts are interviewed for at least visual balance), though a Senate staffer is very convincing about conspiracies by just factually summarizing a report.

The astounding archival photos and videos capture the zeitgeist, especially in striking material from individuals as we see hair and fashions authentically change.

The film was executive produced by Antoine Fuque, for whom the director acted in "Training Day," but other credits were missing in the print and I assume some music as the lack of much hip hop on the soundtrack was inexplicable otherwise, particularly as rap gets zero mention in the film as any kind of influence.

With the extreme language and images in the film, PBS is not an option as a future outlet.

Of all the films I saw at the Hollywood Black Film Festival here in Los Angeles 2006 The Documentary I watched by Director Cle "Bone" Sloan was thee best and MOST relevant. In spite of what he thought; Cle was an eloquent, passionate and articulate speaker in re: to his craft as a filmmaker as well as a "member" - the twist i found responsible and refreshing; was that his intent is not to leave his brothers behind just because he found the light, rather he was trying to figure out away to organize and unite the Bloods and Crips in a organized and purposeful way. By starting at the beginning, Documenting the genesis of why the gangs started in the first place.

Cle'Slone is more than just an excellent filmmaker - he has the tools, passion, heart and drive to make a really big dent in the history of our culture as a Leader.

~sylvia v. hillman~ ~writer~