Skip to main content

How to Blow Up a Pipeline Takes the Revolution Seriously


What choices are left when the people with power do nothing?
That is the central thinking that drives most of the characters in Daniel Goldhaber’s provocatively titled How to Blow Up a Pipeline, inspired by the non-fiction book by Andreas Malm. It is a thinking not restricted to these characters or even the kind of emphatic activists that they are based on; and in fact gains more traction at least as an idea each time a government or union of powers fails to sufficiently act on the climate emergency -which is all of the time pretty much. Malm’s book, a controversial treatise on the ineffectuality of pacifist protest in regards to climate activism, argues that acts of sabotage and destruction are necessary in the fight for environmental justice. Without perhaps being quite so resolute, this is the stance of the film as well -which draws on the real and personal effects of climate inaction, especially on young people, to present a fictional story of eight frustrated individuals coming together to commit an act eco-terrorism (which the FBI defines as crimes against property) and make a statement.
That very pretense itself will make a lot of people decry or simply be uncomfortable with this film, but that doesn’t change the fact that it is a highly necessary one -giving voice, maybe for the first time on such a platform, to the concerns of those who must live through so uncertain an ecological future. Goldhaber is a fairly young director; co-writer, producer, and star Ariela Barer is just twenty-four -and she’s not the only cast member to have extra behind-the-scenes credits. This is a movie made by the generation most impacted by the ongoing climate disaster. There’s something quite powerful in that, and poignant.
Like the book it is based on, How to Blow Up a Pipeline isn’t exactly an accurate title, as the movie focuses only marginally on the technical side of such an act (though one character did make an instructional video). Its protagonists are seven teenagers from Chicago, Portland, rural North Dakota, and Long Beach, as well as an adult local who fought the government over a pipeline being built across his property. With expository flashbacks for each intermingled throughout, most of the movie follows the intricate carrying out of their sabotage, the dangers and pitfalls of avoiding authorities and covering their tracks, all the while engaging with and reiterating the determination that has driven such an extreme measure.
For its radical viewpoints, this isn’t so radical a movie, as it adheres concisely to the fairly standard heist movie formula. It’s understandable -the movie needs some kind of storyline, as reflecting a more experimental approach a la the book would not render it marketable to those audiences the people behind it are looking to reach. But on that front, it could do to be a little more inventive. The filmmaking is generally nondescript and merely functional, there isn’t a lot of character to the visual presentation or style, and several plot beats to do with the heist’s execution are right out of the Soderbergh playbook, only nowhere as deft. It’s palpable how novice a director Goldhaber is and even how the script is the first for at least two of it’s three writers.
And yet it is the subject of the heist that is compelling, the motivations and the pressure even more so. I like how the movie resisted the urge to put a face to its villain -sure there are a couple obstructing people who come and go, but they have almost nothing to do with the system these kids are fighting against. The adversary is simply that overwhelming faceless fossil fuel industry, and though the movie comes dangerously close to triteness a couple time in its depiction of this, it never lets go of the earnestness of it’s convictions -and how uniquely of this time they are. You will never mistake How to Blow Up a Pipeline for any platitudinous mass-market environmental fable of yesteryear. It’s in-tune with the severity of its theme. It is unmistakably urgent.
This really comes through in the stories of the characters, brief though they may be, and the strength of the performances. There’s passionate activist Xochitl (Barer) and her boyfriend Shawn (Marcus Scribner), frustrated that the local peaceful protests they organize amount to no meaningful change in their highly-polluted corner of southern California. It’s even more of a constant reality to her best friend Theo (Sasha Lane), diagnosed with leukemia directly as a cause of the local air quality. Barer and Lane convey remarkably the desperation inherent to what they choose to do, while Jaime Lawson as Theo’s girlfriend Alisha, recruited out of her love for Theo, does well as the voice of modest dissent -pointing out how this statement is not a victimless crime where it concerns the fallout, as well as the impact such a thing would have on the public perception of environmental activism. Her voicing of these concerns arguably amounts to just lip service by a film that doesn’t share their weight, but it is still worth noting the nuance that the script acknowledges in the conversation around ecologically-motivated violence. Certainly it means little to Rowan (Kristine Froseth) and Logan (Lukas Gage), a Bonnie and Clyde duo who have already gotten in trouble with the law for acts of sabotage in Portland, and are resigned to being labeled as ‘terrorists’ regardless of what they do.
The best performances of the film though come through the characters who care even less about repercussion: Jake Weary as Dwayne, the working-class farmer with a young child, motivated more out of anger towards the government than any particular environmentalist conviction -his guardedness betraying his psychological shell-shock. And then there’s the furiosity of Forrest Goodluck’s Michael, the team’s actual bomb-maker, whose approach to the whole endeavour is wit’s end, ride or die. It’s no accident that the most extreme participant here is an Indigenous youth, who has clearly spent his whole life watching white government’s encroachment and abuse of the natural world. Michael is the facet for the movie to make its boldest statements and Goodluck is more than up to the task of shouldering that gravity.
Speaking of shouldering, there’s a lot of heavy lifting in this movie. It’s curious to see the methods by which this collective carries out their task, such as strapping a very volatile barrel with the detonative material condensed inside to a strip of open pipeline. Some of the obstacles, like the appearance of a random drone feel contrived, but the drama is drawn with ample pacing –especially in a couple instances where it ties in with a flashback. Like any heist movie, it comes together in the end by revealing a new layer to the plotting, counteracting the more threatening developments. It feels a touch cheaply used here, not only in where it comes in structurally (one character is deprived a backstory for it), but also in that it tempers the movie’s central theme a tad, conceding in consequence a degree of moral ambiguity where the movie had been so steadfast before.
Nevertheless, it is surprising how little the movie’s ethics are compromised –a movie titled How to Blow Up a Pipeline, remember. This is a piece that articulates climate dread, perhaps the most potently since First Reformed. It legitimizes sabotage and violence against property as proactive and necessary; and it does the work to back that message up through a context of anger and desperation. But it is not a movie that sympathizes with eco-terrorism as much as it is a movie that sympathizes with the dour state of the world, and the impact that that has on the young generation forced to inherit it. Each year gets worse, each year we pass a new point of no return for sustainability -and the governments, the conglomerates, the billionaires refuse to act with any meaningful resolve. Against that visceral reality, this movie asks you to consider, is blowing up a pipeline really so extreme?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Disney's Mulan, Cultural Appropriation, and Exploitation

I’m late on this one I know. I wasn’t willing to spend thirty bucks back in September for a movie experience I knew was going to be far poorer than if I had paid half that at a theatre. So I waited for it to hit streaming for free to give it a shot. In the meantime I heard that it wasn’t very good, but I remained determined not to skip it entirely, partly out of sympathy for director Niki Caro and partly out of morbid curiosity. Disney’s live-action Mulan  I was actually mildly looking forward to early in the year in spite of my well-documented distaste for this series of creative dead zones by the most powerful media conglomerate on earth. Mulan  was never one of Disney’s classics, a movie extremely of its time in its “girl power” gender politics and with a decidedly American take on ancient Chinese mythology. It got by on a couple good songs and a strong lead, but it was a movie that could be improved upon, and this new version looked like it had the potential to do that, emphasizing

The Hays Code was Bad, Sex in Movies is Good

Don't Look Now (1973) Will Hays, Who Knows About Sex In 1930, former Republican politician and chair of the Motion Picture Association of America Will Hayes introduced a series of self-censorship guidelines for the movie industry in response to a mixture of celebrity scandals and lobbying from the Catholic Church against various ‘immoralities’ creating a perception of Hollywood as corrupt and indecent. The Hays Code, or the Motion Picture Production Code, was formally adopted in 1930, though not stringently enforced until 1934 under the auspices of Joseph Breen. It laid out a careful list of what was and wasn’t acceptable for a film expecting major distribution. It stipulated rules against profanity, the depiction of miscegenation, and offensive portrayals of the clergy, but a lot of it was based around sexual content: “sexual perversion” of any kind was disallowed, as were any opaquely textual or visual allusions to reproduction, and right near the top “No licentious or suggestiv

Pixar Sundays: The Incredibles (2004)

          Brad Bird was already a master by the time he came to Pixar. Not only did he hone his craft as an early director on The Simpsons , but he directed a little animated film for Warner Bros. in 1999, that though not a box office success was loved by critics and quickly grew a cult following. The Iron Giant is now among many people’s favourite animated movies. Likewise, Bird’s feature debut at Pixar, The Incredibles , his own variation of a superhero movie, is often considered one of the studio’s best. And for very good reason, as the most talented director at Pixar shows.            Superheroes were once the world’s greatest crime-fighting force until several lawsuits for collateral damage (and in the case of Mr. Incredible, a hilarious suicide prevention), outlawed their vigilantism. Fifteen years later Mr. Incredible, now living as Bob Parr, has a family with his wife Helen, the former Elastigirl. But Bob, in a combination of mid-life crisis and nostalgia for the old day