Big Picture Big Sound

Rated Aargh!

I think there's something wrong with me. I seem to be laboring under the false assumption that documentaries should be even-handed - documenting both sides of an argument and sparking debate within the audience. More often than not, lately, it seems that documentaries are used as sounding boards ("An Inconvenient Truth") or, as in the case of "Fahrenheit 9/11", flat-out soapboxes to expose a great evil. "This Film Is Not Yet Rated" is one such film.

As you could probably guess from the cheeky title, "This Film" is about the Motion Picture Association of America's notoriously shady, arbitrary and borderline fascist ratings board and its recently retired leader of 30+ years, Jack Valenti. If you've watched an Academy Awards telecast, you'll recognize Mr. Valenti as the white-haired, Grandpa-Munster-ish fellow who comes on about an hour into the broadcast to say something or other about the wonder of motion pictures. As "This Film" documents using some intriguing archival footage, Mr. Valenti is also the man who created the ratings we're all so familiar with - G, PG, PG-13, R and NC-17 (the rating formerly known as X) - in 1968.

After a credit sequence as tongue-in-cheek as its title (in which the animators use those black boxes that obscure private parts to frame the names of the filmmakers), Kirby Dick, the man behind this incisive but slightly smug film, literally goes where no man has gone before: into the ultra-secret fraternity of MPAA raters. Shrouded in a veil of secrecy that would make Dan Brown proud, the MPAA operates out of corporate headquarters that are lodged in a nearly impenetrable edifice in Encino, CA. Mr. Dick goes so far as to hire a private investigator to stake out the building and follow potential raters.

Intercut with a wealth of candid commentary from NC-17 "branded" filmmakers (John Waters, Atom Egoyan, Kimberly Peirce and many others), this investigation, though a seemingly brilliant maneuver, provides the least interesting subplot of the film. The facts they uncover are far more interesting than the footage of the sleuthing (though the scenes of Mr. Dick nervously fearing being discovered are priceless). The PIs - going through garbage and tailing suspected raters in their minivan - eventually uncover a wealth of information which Mr. Dick brazenly broadcasts on screen.

But here Mr. Dick loses focus. 90 minutes of Valenti-bashing is easy - it's like picking on McDonald's in "Super Size Me". No one's arguing that the system is antiquating and flawed (in fact, no alternative viewpoints are presented at all). But the problem here is not the raters themselves. Yes, it's impressive that Mr. Dick was able to get their information, but these are just cogs in the wheel. The problem is not the employees; the problem is the process that keeps them there.

Mr. Dick proposes no better solutions, even up until a brilliantly "meta" ending when he receives an NC-17 for this very film. Even if there were a new system in place, there would still be material deemed inappropriate for young viewers. And that's okay. But there's another issue that is only given one sentence of screentime: why is the NC-17 rating a kiss of death for a film? Why won't studios market - or at all support - a film with a rating that simply means "not suitable for anyone under 17". Doesn't it still mean "everyone above 17 can still see it"? That's still a pretty large marketplace.

Yes, we should come up with a less arbitrary ratings system that doesn't deem violence more suitable than sex. And, yes, the ratings board should be public and held accountable - not some secret coven of "average parents". But won't the inherent problem of studios fearing "adult material" still exist? Whatever your feeling is on the NC-17 rating, don't let it stop you from seeing this and so many other worthy films.