The Vermont Movie

Nora Jacobson calls herself the instigator and producer of “The Vermont Movie.” It’s actually a modest description after considering what she has accomplished in the past six years.

This massive documentary film project, which began with a series of emails and interviews in 2006, synthesizes the contributions of more than three dozen filmmakers and historians into an expressive, educational and occasionally provocative multi-part movie that explores the state’s unusual past and diverse contributions.

Scheduled for theatrical release next spring, the finished film could end up having as many as six parts and running more than seven hours. The working subtitle for the complete film is “Freedom and Unity,” a nod to the state motto. Each part will have a separate subtitle.

Sampling brief segments in a classroom and viewing a feature-length movie (or four of them) are very different experiences. But parts three and four were far enough along this summer that the series could be shown and evaluated with some of the filmmakers and advisers.

Each part runs between 80 and 90 minutes. Early cuts of parts one and two have been seen at various festivals. New material may be screened during the Vermont International Film Festival, which runs from Oct. 18-28. Discussions are under way with Vermont Public Television and other outlets about distribution.

The Producers’ Committee that advises Jacobson and Winthrop includes John Douglas, Art Bell, Deb Ellis, Dorothy Tod, and Kate Cone. Financial support has come from the Bay and Paul Foundation, John M. Bissell Foundation, Green Valley Media, National Life of Vermont Foundation, Vermont Arts Council, Vermont Community Foundation, Vermont Humanities Council, and the Vermont Country Store. Jacobson credits Susan Green with helping to initiate the project.

Other filmmakers who contributed include Art Bell, Susan Bettman, Matt Bucy, Patrick Cody, Michael Couture, Jay Craven, Alan Dater, Jeff Farber, Michael Hanish, Dan Higgins, Olivia Jampol, Dina Janis, Peter Kent, Rob Koier, Michael Kusmit, Bobbie Lanahan, Jesse Larocque, Linda Leehman, Robin Lloyd, Anne Macksoud, Sam Mayfield, Lisa Merton, Louise Michaels, Rick Moulton, Mira Niagolova, Meghan O’Rourke, Kenneth Peck, Kate Purdie, Sue Rees, Andy Reichsman, Larry Robins, Michael Sacca, Ben Silberfarb, Holly Stadtler, Bill Stetson, Jill Vickers, Katherine Wheatley and Orly Yadin.

Prior to this production Jacobson’s directorial credits included “Delivered Vacant,” a documentary exploration of gentrification in Hoboken, and two independent features, “My Mother’s Early Lovers” and “Nothing Like Dreaming,” both shot in Vermont. Early in the evolution of “The Vermont Movie,” she opted for an ambitious, collaborative approach. Each filmmaker or team could pick one or more topics to develop, with periodic opportunities to share work in progress with peers and discuss how various segments could relate to the film’s overarching focus – Vermont’s independent spirit over the centuries.

As originally submitted early segments varied widely in style and content, and also left significant gaps in the story. However, as more sequences were shot, dozens of interviews conducted, and rare old footage was rediscovered Jacobson found a unifying approach.

Evolving the style

Serving as project coordinator and de facto editor-in-chief Jacobson has spent years pulling together the many pieces of this complex puzzle, shaping them into a thematically-driven narrative that is original, substantive and dramatic. The result is a series of films – each one effective on its own – that explore the state’s nature over time through intimate portraits, indelible stories, dramatic recreations and interconnected topics.

There is no narrator; that was one of Jacobson’s baseline rules. Instead, various witnesses – called storytellers in the credits – provide insights and discuss how they have been affected by life in the Green Mountains. There are also no subheads to separate the topics addressed in each part, a common device in documentaries.

For example, part two – tentatively titled “Under the Surface” – looks at events covering almost a century, from just after the Civil War to the 1950s. This includes the arrival of immigrants, the evolving role of African Americans, farming challenges and the rise of quarry work, “back to the land” pioneers, and how Vermont handled the post-war Red Scare.

Despite the scope, there are no obvious markers to define separate sections. It is a film that draws the viewer in rather than telegraphing its message. Interweaving many sources and issues the narrative tone nevertheless remains personal and engaging,enhanced by a relaxed pace that lets characters and connections emerge.

Jacobson says that she has been influenced by Michaelangelo Antonioni, the Italian modernist director who redefined narrative cinema in films like “L’Avventura,” “La Notte,” “Eclipse” and “Zabriskie Point.” “I live Antonioni,” she says. Like Antonioni, Jacobson is challenging some conventional notions of filmmaking and structure with this film, an epic saga that sometimes crosses seamlessly from realism to drama and present to past.

She was also inspired by W.G. Sebald’s unusual novel “The Rings of Saturn,” which is rich in analysis of history, art and literature. In the book, a German intellectual with the same name as the author walks along the coast of England visiting various spots with cultural significance. Rather than emphasizing plot, the book explores historical implications and functions as a quest for answers.

Much the same can be said of “The Vermont Movie.” While certainly providing a distinct and coherent version of Vermont’s past, its goal is more expansive – to investigative the state’s values and persistent themes, cultural cross-currents, and the unique contributions of its inhabitants.

Less-told tales

“Vermont is a new idea,” announces the subtitle for part one. The words relate to the role of Abenaki and other Native Americans in providing a cultural and spiritual foundation on which the state was subsequently built. But the movie goes deeper; for example, it considers the implications of early intermarriage between Abenaki and French Canadians, and points out that prejudice and fear caused many Abenaki in the past to deny their true heritage.

Samuel de Champlain appears in a series of clever, interwoven scenes that encapsulate exploration and settlement with humor, poignant detail and creative anachronism. Part one also revisits the independence struggle led by pioneer rebels like Ethan Allen, as well as Vermont’s settlement politics, intermarriage and the Underground Railroad, religious sects of the Second Great Awakening, the rise of the Masons and resulting anti-Masonic crusade, disparities created by the emergence of a capitalist economy, and Vermont’s role in the Civil War.

Vermonters have developed a case of amnesia about the early presence of African Americans, the film asserts, but “they have never been strangers.” Part two picks up in the 1860s, using rare graphics and personal stories to describe that dynamic as well as the role of women, the arrival of Irish and other immigrants, the growth of quarry work, and why Vermont fell behind economically in the late 19th century. This leads to a discussion of how the state’s scenery became a selling point, a move that has at times provoked suspicion of outsiders.

A segment on Barre as “mini-melting pot” is especially strong, highlighted by the dramatic retelling of stone carver Eli Corti’s 1903 murder during sectarian political strife. It explains how Scottish and Italian immigrants profoundly influenced local politics and the growth of unions in a central Vermont community that became a “center of anarchism” and labor solidarity.

Equally important is the film’s treatment of the eugenics movement, initiated in Vermont by a Eugenics Survey. This example of pseudo-science was accepted by some progressives in the 1920s and early 30s. As The Vermont Movie’s study guide explains, the survey team focused on Abenaki and French Canadian families “because eugenicists considered them a burden on society and considered their lifestyle inappropriate for and unhealthy for children.”

The Eugenics Survey set the stage for passage of a 1931 Vermont sterilization law. Although sterilization was supposed to be “voluntary,” often it was not, especially for people in prisonor other institutions who were offered freedom in exchange for their consent. At least 1,200 people were sterilized, during a time when it was literally “unsafe to be Abenaki.”

Part two also covers the moderate populism of George Aiken and Ernest Gibson – both senior and junior – who built a progressive wing in the Republican Party, as well as Ralph Flanders’ stand against Joseph McCarthy and the independent thinking of politicians like James Jeffords.

A charming section explores how and why artists and other mavericks came to Vermont in search of “the good life.”Jacobson’s own family was part of that trend, and she gives ample space to this and other portraits,another way in which The Vermont Movie breaks with recent documentary convention.

In the film Nicholas Jacobson, Nora’s father, calls his decision to relocate to Vermont a “personal secession,” a choice that emphasized space, creativity and free expression. A related portrait focuses on Scott and Helen Nearing, influential pacifists and vegetarians, while looking at aspects of what became known as the “back to the land movement.” On the other hand, the film does not flinch at addressing related problems such as the dominance of patriarchal men and the counterculture’s sometimes middle class assumptions.

Refuge and reinvention

A few contentious themes emerge in parts three and four, which focus primarily on the last 50 years. For example, the fact that Vermont has often been a refuge for renegades isn’t something the state’s establishment is particularly comfortable acknowledging. It is one thing to celebrate a Revolutionary-era figure like Ethan Allen or a quirky inventor, as the film also does, and quite another to document the impact of radical communes that put down roots in the 1960s and later.

Part three opens with the contributions of Bill Meyer, a Democrat who briefly challenged the Cold War in Congress, and Phil Hoff, whose 1962 gubernatorial victory set the stage for reapportionment – Vermont’s long-overdue application of “one man, one vote.” It then turns to “talented tinkerers” like Snowflake Bentley and Thaddeus Fairbanks, the rise of IBM, the building of the Interstate highway, and the price of “eminent domain.”

Along the way it offers the tragic story of Romaine Tenny, a hardworking farmer who set his house on fire – with himself inside – when he couldn’t block the new highway’s path. In short, the dark side of progress has not been swept under the rug.

Then, about halfway through, part three’s examination of “refuge, renewal and reinvention” pivots to a vivid and detailed look at several intentional communities, and the paths taken by some of their key members. Film advisers Roz Payne and John Douglas, members of the Newsreel Collective in the 1960s, provided rare footage to accompany home movies,archival shots, and recent interviews about Packer’s Corner, Quarry Hill and other social experiments.

“The Vermont Movie” links modern communes to a tradition dating back to John Humphrey Noyes, a 19th century Vermont “perfectionist” who founded the sect later known as the Oneida Community in upstate New York. As the film reveals, many communards of the 1960s were seeking refuge from the era’s violence and dehumanization, but they also hoped to establish alternative traditions. It shows the mixed blessings of communal life and how some members of the counterculture found new roles in later years.

When parts one through four were shown to several filmmakers and advisers in July, these segments attracted the most diverse reactions. Even today, the true history of Vermont’s counterculture remains one of its less-told tales and deserves more exploration. The treatment of Vermont’s communes in “The Vermont Movie” is a good start, but only scratches the surface and suggests areas for future research and debate.

From learning to doing

Part four resolves questions introduced in several preceding segments. With the working sub-title “Doers and Shapers,” it is a nuanced look at educational traditions, development and environmental concerns, agriculture, and finally, in an extended segment, the evolution of Vermont’s commitment to gay rights.

It begins with Bernie Sanders, at least how he connects with ordinary Vermonters. But it simultaneously acknowledges that not everyone likes Sanders or embraces the progressive agenda that has emerged in Vermont over the last few decades. This pro and con approach to contemporary issues resurfaces at several points.

Vermont’s progressive tradition is linked with the educational philosophy of John Dewey, which eventually leads to the hands-on approach of Goddard College, first envisioned as “a school for Vermont living.” Having established Vermont’s preference for “learning and doing,” the film moves on to the connection between education and democracy,especially as it is expressed in Vermont’s town meetings.

Another segment delves into the theatrical magic of Peter Schumann and Bread & Puppet Theater, which has provided iconic form for the struggle against authoritarianism.

The biggest emotional punch comes in the last half hour, when “The Vermont Movie” recounts the state’s gradual acceptance of gay rights. The footage here, particularly of legislative debate over civil unions, is riveting. Some of the comments may sound extreme a decade later, but the film won’t downplay the tensions triggered by changing values.

Then the focus becomes still more intimate, letting transplanted gay actor Dan Butler and his partner Richard Waterhouse recount in detail their road to marriage in Vermont. In a way, the newcomers represent anyone who has found the state a refuge, or at least a viable and nurturing alternative.

Still, Jacobson and her collaborators are not so starry-eyed that they ignore evidence of class conflict lingering just below the surface. One storyteller speaks openly, with some bitterness, about the arrival of “pretty people.” Vermont is clearly unique, the film suggests near the end of part four, but it is certainly not perfect.

The overall thrust of this elegant and impressive film, according to a flyer for the educational kit, is to illustrate Vermont’s “legacy of freedom and tolerance: where it comes from, when it has triumphed and when it has fallen short.” “The Vermont Movie” achieves that and more.

To learn about the project and future screenings, visit the website at The Vermont Movie.com.

previously published at VTDigger