bonnie sherr klein - intelligent poodle

PROFILE
POV asked contributing editors Janis Cole and Noelle Elia to offer their assessments
on the career of documentary veteran Bonnie Sherr Klein, who recently returned to
filmmaking after years adjusting to life with a disability. At the time of her strokes,
Klein was a prominent director, who had made one of the NFB’s most significant and
divisive films, Not A Love Story, for the Board’s famed women’s unit, Studio D. Here,
from contrasting points-of-view, are two looks at an important Canadian filmmaker.
BONNIE SHERR KLEIN
Former NFB Studio D filmmaker Bonnie Sherr
Klein is widely considered to be one of the
studio’s most renowned feminist filmmakers. Not
A Love Story: A Film About Pornography (NALS)
(1981) is her signature film. The NFB promotes
NALS as one of its most successful films of all
time. It is also among its most controversial,
partially for using the very images it denounces,
and partly because it has, from the beginning,
caused both fierce alignment and rejection of its
central message.
In 1987 Klein’s life and work were irrevocably
altered by two sudden strokes that radically
changed her mobility and propelled her into a new
form of activism on behalf of the disabled. She
published a moving account of her experience in
Slow Dance: A Story of Stroke, Love and Disability
(1997). The book is a testament of her great will and
spirit to live life fully. Primarily a recall of her
personal journey through illness and recovery, she
chronicles the shortcomings and attributes of going
through the healthcare system. She pulls in multiple
perspectives along with her own: her husband
Michael’s, son Seth’s, daughter Naomi’s, extended
family members’, friends’, co-workers’, nurses’ and
doctors’, and in doing so takes the reader straight to
the heart of every dramatic up and down.
After a 17-year hiatus from filmmaking, Klein
recently pointed the camera on herself and a
group of disabled artist friends to make Shameless:
The ART of Disability (2006). She claims this will
Bonnie Sherr Klein | photo: Tracey Friesen
Two Perspectives
By Janis Cole & Noelle Elia
be her final film because she finds the physical
tasks of filmmaking have become too exhausting.
Klein has earned numerous awards for her
film work, and was granted an honorary doctor of
laws degree from Ryerson University. She lives
with her husband in British Columbia and
continues her activism on behalf of the disabled.
A Shameless Love Story
Janis Cole’s POV
Not A Love Story: A Film About Pornography (NALS)
(1981) premiered at the Toronto Film Festival the
same year my first feature doc P4W: Prison for
Women showed there. I remember the controversy
surrounding Klein’s film, including Globe and Mail
critic Jay Scott calling her a “bourgeois, feminist
fascist.” Klein’s worldview and point-of-view are
intricately intertwined, but why slur the filmmaker
when the flaws of NALS rest in filmmaking devices
that could have worked, but backfired?
Janis Cole began her filmmaking
journey at nineteen. She
collaborated with cohort
Holly Dale on a dozen feminist
doc films, and has mentored
numerous friends and students
for over thirty years.
Noelle Elia is preoccupied with
truth, beauty and love.
Shameless: The ART of Disability
will have its broadcast premiere
on BRAVO, Sunday May 13th at
8pm ET.
SUMMER 2007 | POINT OF VIEW 66
33
In the film, Klein admits not knowing
the pornography world when she starts
out. She enlists a stripper named
Lindalee Tracey, presumably to both
validate her entrée into the sex world,
and to introduce tension into the
narrative through Tracey’s opposing point
of view. Klein holds a belief that women
who engage in sex for economic reasons
are victims, while Tracey claims her
power as a stripper, denouncing Klein’s
view—at least initially. Tracey performs
her strip show in the film and poses for a
close-up photo shoot of her pussy,
flamboyantly orchestrated by Hustler
photographer Suze Randall.
Klein’s embrace of the ‘real deal’
stripper includes bringing her into the
fold and supplying a credit that reads,
“made in association with Lindalee
Tracey”—not a common credit,
presumably meaning Tracey shared
creative involvement and final approval.
Tracey, the sex-positive stripper, traverses
the film like an adjunct filmmaker,
getting increasingly drawn into the
filmmaker’s stratagem to convert her way
of thinking. Both Klein and Tracey play
roles; the filmmaker embracing the
stripper’s know-how, and the stripper
leading the way for the filmmaker, and
both performances ring false.
When Tracey finally converts to
Klein’s view, she loses all credibility as
the (s)expert. She reads a self-written
passage aloud to Klein, and becomes
weepy recalling how she felt objectified
after the Hustler photo shoot. The film is
structured to make this Tracey’s
‘character arc.’ Set at the beach, the
backdrop metaphorically implies the
changing tide around them. The scene
feels staged even though it is played for
the camera in verité style.
I question who is more implicit for
the failure of Tracey’s role in the film,
Klein who engaged her as the ‘voice of
authority’ and then positioned her to
lose it, or Tracey who allows her position
to get lost in the filmmaking process?
They are equally responsible. Klein
shows poor judgment in wanting Tracey
to change, and Tracey ‘performs’ the
change for the camera then accepts it in
the final cut. If she did not want her
character change to be part of NALS, the
time to say so was then.
Tracey initially helped Klein promote
the film, which I remember well. When
criticism piled up amidst the accolades,
Klein remained attached to the film while
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POINT OF VIEW 66 | SUMMER 2007
Tracey started to distance herself. In a
recent POV interview Tracey said that she
found the whole experience (of Not A
Love Story) incredibly painful, untrue and
inauthentic. Klein, however, recalls a
good working relationship that soured a
year after the film was released. She was
hurt by Tracey’s refusal to discuss the
problem and has never understood why
it occurred. The controversy around
Tracey’s role has plagued the film from
its inception, and escalated over time. But
history does not change, people change.
Fair enough.
Another technique I question in Not A
Love Story is Klein’s reliance on cutaways, 40 altogether, of herself, Tracey or
the two of them together. By inserting
their nods of agreement and shakes of
disbelief, and making these reactions
look as though they are part of the live
action with other participants, which is
how Klein uses them, she discredits their
use entirely. Nothing demeans a doc
faster for me than employing an
unauthentic voice of authority or
inserting cutaways meant to tell me how
to think. Klein does both in NALS.
In 1989 Klein and I were part of a
delegation of Canadian women
filmmakers in Israel. It was shortly after
her intense rehabilitation from two lifethreatening strokes. Klein’s wheelchair
led us through the narrow streets of
Jerusalem after lunch one day and we all
admired her stamina. Years later we
would witness her social feminism shift
to include outspoken activism on behalf
of the disabled. After a long hiatus Klein
recently released Shameless: the ART
of Disability (2006). A labour of love,
Shameless is an upbeat doc that
celebrates the productive lives of five
disabled artist friends. Klein figures
predominantly in the NFB production.
Shameless bursts with heart and has a
powerful message, especially in
expressions of love between Klein and her
husband Michael, and between other
characters and their sweethearts. They
speak of deep love, unhindered by
immobile bodies or distorted faces. I
wasn’t surprised that the characters in
the film lead full lives and have brilliant
minds, but learning of their rich, intimate
love lives was a wonderful discovery. If
Klein intended a positive worldview of her
subject, she succeeds resoundingly—love
is universal, for folks in all walks of life.
Not A Love Story is the first widely
screened documentary on pornography.
Shameless is the first doc about the
disabled by the disabled. Neither film is
definitive, but both are historically
relevant. While NALS shamelessly
perpetuates a narrow viewpoint of
pornography that gets more outdated
over time, Shameless unabashedly
conveys stories of love that will
undoubtedly become timeless.
“She said”
Noelle Elia’s POV
The first time I met Bonnie Sherr Klein
she was reclining on a couch in a classy
hotel, wrapped in a raspberry-coloured
chenille blanket—accomplished cineaste
en repose. In town last October to present
her latest documentary, Shameless: The
ART of Disability, at ARCfest, Toronto’s
social justice arts festival, she discussed
her return to filmmaking and how she’d
“learned finally to just be.” Unlike many,
I’d never seen her films and knew more
about her equally accomplished daughter
Naomi Klein than I did of her. Two years
ago, I came across Not a Love Story
online while researching another POV
article. When I learned of its staunch
anti-porn stance, and that it had been
banned in Ontario for its pornographic
content, I wrote it off. Admittedly, that
brusque brush-off was a lapse in
objectivity from my pro-porn perspective.
And only recently did I learn that twenty
years ago her life had changed forever.
Approaching her “three-stage” career
with virgin eyes, I intentionally worked
backward from present to past to find out
who Klein is now so as to better
understand who she was then. I watched
Shameless, then read Slow Dance and
topped it off with the ever-polarized Not a
Love Story (NALS). Vietnam War resister,
feminist, Challenge for Change and Studio
D filmmaker, writer, radio documentary
producer, stroke survivor and disability
rights activist, clearly this woman has
done her fair share. Given that we come
to our personal politics at different stages
of individuation, during different periods
in history and are influenced by countless
variables, I was curious to discover how
she’d evolved creatively.
In the crowded foyer of The Workman
Theater, Klein maneuvered her scooter,
Gladys II, around the wheelchairs,
walkers, canes and seeing-eye dogs. For
the hearing impaired, Shameless was
subtitled and a sign language interpreter
participated in the lively, thoughtprovoking Q&A. On stage, Klein was
joined by co-star and “disability guru”
Catherine Frazee. Whereas NALS had a
distinct whiff of righteousness about it,
Shameless spoke from a more empowered,
albeit hard-won, place. How could it be
otherwise? Klein had literally faced neardeath and lived to tell the tale. She’s
appropriately dubbed this doc a “picture
of the possible.” By broadening the story’s
scope to include four other dynamic,
disabled artists (their so-called “company
of crips”), Shameless is intimately and,
according to Klein, “gently subversive.”
Stylistically, however, Not a Love Story
surpasses Shameless. The grainy, textured
tones of the former translate better than
the latter’s video production values. Or
maybe I’m just waxing nostalgic for the
“authenticity” of those sleazy peep shows
—gaudy and beautiful to my eye—that
have all but disappeared from our
homogeneous urban landscapes. While
my politics matured during the early ’90s
sex-positive movement when the likes of
Susie Bright, Carol Queen and Annie
Sprinkle mixed sex with wit, and
deviance with irreverence, “kids today”
are over-stimulated, under-read,
desensitized, derisive and acutely media
savvy. American teen queens act out like
porn stars as a matter of course. NALS
harkens to a fundamental period in
feminism, replete with accelerated
growth amid co-existing contradictions.
Even if the documentary feels
unbalanced (not all porn is misogynistic),
its relevance endures as a signpost from
the ’80s “Feminist Sex Wars.”
The question of whether the late
Lindalee Tracey was exploited in NALS
remains unfinished emotional business.
On-screen, she comes across as an
articulate, feisty, fully consenting
participant, who questions, listens,
proclaims and questions again. More an
erotic performance artist than your
average “peeler,” Tracey embarks on a
journey with Klein to reconcile mixed
feelings and messages about the übersexualized, and often demeaning,
representation of women by, and for,
men. Since the only way to affirm your
principles and politics is to test them out
in reality, Tracey agreed to do this on
camera—including the climactic Hustler
photo shoot. Ultimately, I admire her
willingness to test her beliefs (regardless
of the outcome) in the name of greater
self-awareness.
Six years after NALS was released,
Klein faced her own enormous test that
eventually bore much fruit. From an
invisible twist of genetic fate, Klein
suddenly became the marginalized,
misrepresented “Other” who had so often
been the subjects of her films. She had to
re-build from scratch. Her memoir of
healing, Slow Dance, is a compelling page-
turner, an incredible love story and a
lesson in courage and resilience. What’s
truly remarkable is her ongoing selfrealization as an artist. The lessons she
learned from her early films on social
justice, the peace movement and sexual
politics became part of the foundation
that supported her through a lifethreatening illness, a long rehabilitation
and the frightening abyss of an identity
revolution. The same strength that
propelled her into the disability rights
movement encouraged her eventual
return to filmmaking.
2006 marked the 25th anniversary
of Not a Love Story and, along with
Shameless, was celebrated at last year’s
prestigious Margaret Mead film festival in
New York. Lately, Bonnie Sherr Klein has
noticed her focus shifting toward Israel
and Judaism. Illness awakened a dormant
spirituality and she now identifies
strongly with the concept of tikkun olam,
translated from Hebrew as “repairing the
world.” In actuality, Klein’s been an
exemplar of tikkun olam for over forty
years. Mazel tov!
Blurring Boundaries
Janis Cole responds to Noelle Elia
In an exemplary career of vast
achievement there exists one major
blemish in Bonnie Klein’s working life
that may, in all likelihood, never be
Not a Love Story: A Film About Pornography (1981)
Lindalee Tracey and Bonnie Sherr Klein in Not a Love Story.
SUMMER 2007 | POINT OF VIEW 66
35
healed. Days after I delivered my first
installment, Bonnie contacted POV to
have her perspective of her relationship
with Lindalee Tracey considered.
She tells me Tracey was paid for
participating in NALS and promoting the
film initially. She gave Tracey editorial
control over her image and showed her
the cut at various stages, and before
completion. Tracey’s cutting room
inclusion indicates more than your
average doc subject participation.
Crediting Tracey as a creative ‘associate’
indicates they each realized what the film
makes evident; NALS would not be what
it is, for either of them, had it not been
for their shared teamwork.
Klein was a seasoned filmmaker when
she enlisted Tracey, a savvy stripper, to
explore the sex world with her, test their
views off each other, and form the
narrative jointly. Klein was positioned to
guide their professional relationship
when she ‘cast’ Tracey as both the sexworld ‘star’ of NALS and her onscreen
collaborator. Klein’s inclusive authorship
approach may have blurred boundaries
for an unseasoned documentary participant. Having studied the film again,
I question a feminist politic that didn’t
embrace bigheartedly Tracey’s coauthorship. Bonnie went on to say, “I do
not disagree with Lindalee’s heartfelt
feelings like shame and humiliation”
(about NALS at the end of her life), but
that’s not what Tracey conveyed, she
expressed anger about untruths, and
that’s how she left this earth.
Watching Klein and Tracey onscreen
it’s not difficult to imagine Not A Love
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POINT OF VIEW 66 | SUMMER 2007
Story: A Film About Pornography made by
Bonnie Sherr Klein and Lindalee Tracey.
Providing a posthumous credit is a
munificent gesture, and, granted, would
not alleviate the film’s anti-pornography
message, which Klein and Tracey share
equally in creating, but it would go a long
way toward mending a dispute that has
plagued the film for twenty-five years.
While NALS is the pinnacle work in
Klein’s accomplished career, her entire
collection is available to the public
through the NFB, including the delightful
Shameless. Undoubtedly there is more
work on the horizon from this tireless
maverick, even if not by way of film.
Noelle’s response…
Your views on Klein’s work are insightful.
They’re also heavily informed by your
experience of the controversy surrounding
Not a Love Story. I neither knew Lindalee
Tracey nor was around for the dramatic
fallout; I can only gauge the film within its
greater dialectical context. Flawed, yes.
Dated, ditto. But I’m hesitant to condemn
it as I originally did—it’s “simply” implicit
of its time. Re-contextualized, anything
can look different in another decade’s
light. I don’t feel there’s any “failure of
Tracey’s role in the film” because my
response to the core issues doesn’t hinge
on her so-called transformation. I also
don’t buy that when she “finally converts
to Klein’s view—she loses all credibility as
the (s)expert.” Thorny subjects like identity
politics, feminism and pornography resist
easy reductionism. Individual and sociopolitical paradigm shifts are inherently
problematic. And growth spurts are always
Shameless: The ART of Disability (2006)
Pat Seeley (left) and partner, Catherine Frazee
photo: Rosamond Norbury | ©NFB
Shameless: The ART of Disability (2006) | photo: Diane Mitten ©NFB
subject to growing pains. Yes, the
documentary wraps up a little too neatly
but, 26 years later, why continue shooting
the messenger (be it Klein or Tracey) just
because the message is messy, even
manipulative?
Instead, I’m more interested in Klein’s
evolution as an artist. As Herbert Marcuse
once said, art functions as the conscience
of society. Art can challenge beliefs and
effect change. Watching and talking about
Not a Love Story is as relevant today as is
the screening and distribution of
Shameless—to see not only how far
we’ve come, but also to recognize that
we’re on the path to healing cultural
disabilities such as prejudice and
inequality. Since the ’60s, Klein’s work
has consistently reflected her life
concerns. Illness and rehabilitation
ripened and broadened her creative voice
making it more heart-centered and
regenerative. Given society’s existential
ills, the focus on loving relationships,
creativity and community in both Slow
Dance and Shameless is radically,
perennially au courant. POV
selected filmography:
1968 Organizing for Power: The Alinsky
Approach. Series of five films (Dir. & Co-Dir.)
1976 A Working Chance
1978 Patricia’s Moving Picture
1979 The Right Candidate for Rosedale (Co-Dir)
1981 Not a Love Story: A Film about Pornography
1985 Speaking Our Peace (Co-Dir)
2006 Shameless: The ART of Disability