Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price (review)

In his review of Robert Greenwald’s new film Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Prices, Salon.com film critic Andrew O’Hehir laments “the way documentary film has become a branch of advocacy journalism.” While O’Hehir proceeded with a mostly positive review of the film, I’d like to take brief issue with his stance on this “recent” development. In fact, there is an extensive and rich history of documentarians serving as voices of the underrepresented, long before Roger and Me. During World War II, Yugoslavians Gavrin and Hlavaty created Jasenovac, which was used as evidence in subsequent war-crimes trials, and Polish filmmakers Aleksander Ford and Jerry Bossak made Majdanek, documenting Nazi atrocities. Bossak would later make the legendary Warszawa 56, which starkly documented the post-war housing crisis in Warsaw. Frederick Wiseman, although adopting a more detached, observational style in films High School and Titicut Follies, created (and continues to create) films that artfully exposed the dehumanizing power of American institutions. I could continue with a litany of films (Harlan County, USA; anything from John Alpert’s DCTV) to prove my point, but I feel that Wiseman is perhaps the most applicable when looking at Wal-Mart.

Greenwald portrays the retail institution as the epitome of large-scale corporate irony. Wal-Mart promotions are draped in the American flag, and ornamented with the words and faces of rural and minority citizens–exactly those that the film shows the corporation exploiting, while relying on an almost identical visual style–an irony on top of another. Greenwald presents Wal-Mart as a baby Huey that blindly squashes competitors, and a multi-billion dollar multi-national corporation that somehow cannot afford to provide its workers health care benefits or security guards to dissuade the rapes, kidnappings and robberies that take place on its property. Wal-Mart is a scathing indictment of corporate greed and the power of effective public relations (”smiley face” logos) to obscure the facts that seem remarkably obvious after watching this film. Greenwald is part Upton Sinclair, part Studs Terkel. Wal-Mart is not an art film, it’s a political tract; a bugle call attempting to rouse a lazy country to action.

As with previous film Outfoxed, Greenwald has the numbers on his side. If the dozens of people appearing in the documentary can be seen as a non-scientifically derived percentage of like-minded people nationwide, which I think they can, then there’s an enormous amount of voiceless, frustrated citizens out there, with no choice other than to shop at Wal-Mart. Greenwald stuffs this film with talking heads, but still manages to present them in a seemingly effortless manner. Dramatic, home-spun vignettes of small-business owners driven from their stores are intercut with testimonials from former employees (ranging from clerks to loss-prevention managers), and starkly contrasted with dozens of management-speak soundbites from CEO Lee Scott. The most bizarre and sad example of the callous feedback loop created and propagated by the company-cum-way of life comes from a former worker who recounts that after cashing her Wal-Mart check, she would immediately spend almost all of the money at the place that pays her. This format is the backbone, and a very strong one at that, of this film. Instead of relying on statistics, content experts, and ponytailed eco-warriors, Greenwald lets those intimately connected with the company speak their minds. The fact that they would gain nothing by spinning the facts lends their words crucial gravity, and leaves critics of the film with no villain to lambast other than the one in the title. I would have appreciated a bit sharper explanation of the film’s general purpose—specifically that it’s not railing against free enterprise and for a socialist state, but against the financial opportunism and lack of concern for humanity that arises when capitalism is left unchecked, and worse, buttressed by local and national government. This would make for a longer and possibly less enjoyable film, but I only offer it as a suggestion because its lack will no doubt be the first utterance from the mouths of this film’s critics.

Greenwald has taken large storytelling strides since the muddled Outfoxed, but technically, Wal-Mart is just as visually cluttered. He’s still fond of animated, cheesy, out-of-the-box lower-thirds, shown each and every time someone appears on screen, a technique that should remain the sole property of church fund-raising videos and talk shows. His segment titles look as if they were created by those who provide graphics for boxing promos. And his audio mix is rough—noticeably so when disembodied voiceovers compete for ear-space with song lyrics at roughly equal levels—a no-no from a technical standpoint. But I actually appreciate the slight amateurism here (and I mean slight—large parts of this film are very well photographed) as a side-effect of Greenwald’s hurry to get this important film in public hands.

Now, for a brief soapbox before I leave. Those public voices who claim to represent the broadly applied principles of family values, an honest work ethic, Christian fellowship and, frankly, a conservative vision for their country (including small government), should recognize in a corporation such as Wal-Mart the exact opposite of those beliefs, and do whatever is in their power to put a stop to the chain’s dangerous corporate business model. Brazenly referring to its employees as “associates,” as if they’re on anywhere near equal standing with management, and then forcing them to pay $70 dollars to fill a prescription, or worse, go onto their state’s public assistance program is underhanded, ethically bankrupt, and, in a society that truly cared about its citizens and their well-being, illegeal. It’s a sad testament to the desire for large-scale change that this isn’t at the fore of the minds of politicians on both sides of the aisle, and that it takes a filmmaker to bring it to the public. I’m an incredible fan and appreciator of all forms of documentary, but I whole-heartedly disagree that there isn’t room for Robert Greenwald’s work.

Filed under: Andrew O’Hehir  documentary  film  Robert Greenwald  Wal-Mart