The Fog of War

is the least boring documentary I have seen (perhaps except for that one doc about Vik Muniz, the least boring film about art ever made). I went to see The Fog of War this evening screening for International Relations and expected to fall asleep after a non-stop, no lay overs under the covers day done on the amount of sleep one gets after digging oneself out of the hole that is the confusing darkness of physics and orgo problem sets. The seats in Sheffield Sterling Stratsomething are movie theater comfortable and the lights were off. But I was riveted from Rosie the Riveter of WWII through the troops wading in Vietnam. And always bombs falling and Mac the knife, Robert McNamara, talking, taking, and evading responsibility. The danger and death and delicacy of the world was intimidating as I hugged me knees, wanted Java, and watched. Felt so small looking up at this larger than life face reflect and face up to past decisions. Talking about it walking home feeling safe in the streets beneath gothic architecture pretending to preserve us from this century, we wondered what to take away from the film. All that was agreed were some of the lessons spelled out on the screen. Empathize with your enemy. Rationality will not save us. There's something beyong one's self. Maximize efficiency. You can never change human nature. Never say never. If you've never seen the movie, see it. If you have, see it again. Let me know when you're watching it, I'll come.