"Chicago 10" is a documentary that deals with the tumultuous 1968 Chicago Democratic National Convention in unexpected ways. In an effort to make historical events palatable to what has been labeled an apathetic, attention-span-deficient generation, director and writer Brett Morgen uses archival footage as well as animated sequences to tell this story.
The film focuses on the protests surrounding the convention and on the eight people put on trial as a result. Throngs of young, peaceful-minded people gathered in Chicago prior to the convention to protest the seemingly never-ending war in Vietnam. Eight of the most outspoken protestors, including Abbie Hoffman, Tom Hayden and Jerry Ruben, were arrested and brought to trial on charges of conspiracy and inciting to riot.
The trial scenes, which make up about half of the film, are computer animated and the archival footage is largely of the protestors congregating in Lincoln Park, storming the streets and interacting with combative police. Because cameras were not permitted in the courtroom, some other avenue had to be taken to depict the absurdity of the trial. The trial transcript has been performed by actors in theatrical productions before, but an animated version of the events has not previously been attempted - and for good reason.
The trial does not at first seem like appropriate fodder for animation as it deals with violations of freedom, racist acts and war casualties. Then again, at times, the behavior of the men put on trial is well suited for this medium. The film highlights some of the defendants' courtroom antics, including throwing paper airplanes at witnesses, dressing in judge's robes and blowing kisses at members of the jury.
Still, the juxtaposition of archival footage and animation is at times jarring. Footage taken from the actual events is far more affecting and powerful than the animated scenes. Furthermore, there is something discordant about seeing an animated man bound and gagged at the command of a conservative old judge. The film's target audience, a younger generation which may not be aware of what actually occurred during the trail, runs the risk of misunderstanding the animated scenes.
Defendant and Black Panther leader Bobby Seale was in fact bound and gagged during the trial, but because this atrocity is presented in animated form, it is difficult to take the incident as historical fact and not merely writer's exaggeration. This confusion is an unfortunate consequence of using animation in the film, but in a question and answer session after the film's screening, Morgen addressed the issue. The historical footage was used, he hoped, to offset the fantastic quality of the animation and corroborate the events.
Morgen's unorthodox decisions succeed in other places. The soundtrack to the film does not consist of the traditional '60s music we've come to expect in films about the decade. There's no "Fortunate Son," no "Blowin' in the Wind" - not even a little "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)." Instead, Morgen uses recent music more likely to be in a documentary about the war in Iraq than the war in Vietnam. The soundtrack includes artists like Rage Against the Machine, Eminem and - maybe even predictably - the Beastie Boys ("Listen all of y'all/ It's a sabotage"). The confrontational nature of the songs chosen gives a fresh perspective on familiar images of hippie protestors and callous law enforcement from the era that viewers are used to seeing.
Hank Azaria, Mark Ruffalo and Liev Schreiber are some of the actors who give voice to the film's animated characters. But the crotchety judge, voiced by veteran actor Roy Scheider, is the only remarkably memorable vocal performance. He sounds as out of touch and grumpy as he looks. He speaks slowly, patronizingly and with the hint of a stutter. Though at times grueling to hear, Scheider sounds quite similar to Judge Hoffman's actual voice, lending a bit more authenticity to the film's animated portions.
But when Rage Against the Machine encourage us to "Wake Up," are any viewers of "Chicago 10" really going to? The film seems nostalgic for a peace movement that is not befitting a generation moved to protest in different ways. It's not that we're wholly apathetic; this generation has just adapted to more effective, if less symbolically resonant, methods of protest. The Internet provides a forum for discussion and fundraising that was just not available in the '60s. Still, the film encourages thought about the nature of our freedoms and our justice system, which is a commendable effort, if not always effective in its execution.
