AIDS

Dallas Buyers Club (2013)

André Crous

Based on a true story, Jean-Marc Vallée’s Dallas Buyers Club covers the life of a straight man who is HIV-positive in the 1980s and reminds us of the recent plague.

dallas-buyers-clubUSA
4*

Director:
Jean-Marc Vallée
Screenwriters:
Craig Borten
Melisa Wallack
Director of Photography:
Yves Bélanger

Running time: 115 minutes

How do you know you have HIV or AIDS? Or rather, why would you even entertain the possibility and think of going for an AIDS test? The reason, sadly, is because so many millions had to suffer and die so that the rest of the world could be informed. Decades of discussion and public service campaigns about HIV and AIDS have made it very clear what constitutes risky behaviour, and anyone today who is having unprotected sex or using intravenous drugs (the two biggest risk groups for the disease) should be aware they run the risk of contracting HIV.

But things were not as clear in the mid-1980s. When Rock Hudson died in 1985, it seemed like “the gay virus” was just that, and that anyone who was straight had no business worrying about their persistent cough or sharp weight loss. If you were, say, a libidinous electrician from Texas who spent half his time at the rodeo and the other half having sex with an assortment of women, sometimes more than one at a time, you certainly were not worried about HIV ever affecting you. You may even have thought that the distance between yourself and any man with limp wrists kept you safe from harm.

The Dallas Buyers Club tells the true story of such a man, named Ron Woodroof (Matthew McConaughey), whose homophobia at first prevents him from accepting he has a disease more commonly associated with the people he despises. His circle of friends – people as virulently bigoted as him – dries up almost overnight, and he is left to fend for himself without any help, even as the doctors tell him he has 30 days left to live.

The era of Reagan and Thatcher was a closeted one, and the stigmas of homosexuality and HIV merged during this time, sadly also affecting the large numbers of people who were gay but didn’t have HIV, or straight but were HIV positive.

One of the highest-profile individuals who suffered the latter fate, at least until the public became more informed, was Magic Johnson. Even earlier, when the public was still wholly ignorant of the origins of the disease, heterosexual tennis player Arthur Ashe endured a tremendous backlash when he revealed he also had HIV. After all, the original name of AIDS was GRID (gay-related immune deficiency).

Dallas Buyers Club, by the little-known Canadian filmmaker Jean-Marc Vallée who also directed the exceptional coming-of-age tale C.R.A.Z.Y., is about one man’s struggle against the odds in an era of uncertainty, but in particular against a Food and Drug Administration that seems bent on playing to the pharmaceutical companies instead of the tens of thousands of terminally ill patients.

When a representative of the company that makes the antiretroviral drug AZT tells a group of doctors at a local hospital they have been selected to test it, and they will be handsomely rewarded for participating in the study, many of the physicians’ eyes light up. The drug is soon pushed through despite some major questions about its side-effects, but once it is on the market, it costs patients an unrealistic $10,000 per year.

This is an abomination that was covered in the breathtaking documentary How to Survive a Plague, which anyone interested in the wider story of the FDA dragging its feet, for reasons that often seemed to be associated with pharmaceutical interests but were in fact more complex, at a time when people were dying like flies, should watch to understand the frustration felt among the marginalized HIV/AIDS population. In Dallas Buyers Club, the focus is on Woodroof rather than the larger activist movement that impressed the urgency of the matter on the government.

Woodroof sought to keep himself alive by whatever means necessary. After travelling to Mexico to consult with a doctor who prefers the method of Antoine Béchamp to that of Louis Pasteur (i.e. the idea of keeping the host healthy, as opposed to treating a sick host with medicine) and discovering that certain vitamins and proteins are more beneficial than the doses of AZT he has been taking, he starts transporting the as yet FDA-unapproved supplements to the United States and opens the Dallas Buyers Club.

The club is a provider of alternative medicines, on average much more effective than the AZT peddled to AIDS patients for an arm and a leg. But even though the supplements pose little to no threat to the members of the club (who pay a fixed amount per month for as much medication as they require), the U.S. government becomes paranoid about their efforts to discredit the efficacy of AZT and therefore shuts them down.

Jared Leto stars as Rayon, who is transgender and becomes unlikely friends with Woodroof, acting as a connector between him and the rest of the individuals in the area affected by HIV/AIDS, most of them gay. The other main role is played by Jennifer Garner, starring as Dr. Eve Saks, who sees the rotten insides of the pharmaceutical industry and is torn between her desire to see her patients healthy and the FDA’s determination not to make the supposedly effective AZT too readily available to the public. Garner is perfect in the role as a curious and empathetic but slightly shy individual who senses her own helplessness in the face of the regulations of a big and callous government.

Woodroof’s desperate search for answers and his humanity in helping others who are in the same, nearly hopeless situation as him, stirs our empathy, and McConaughey, almost unrecognisable here as an emaciated version of the image he has cultivated over the past 15 years, is mostly successful in the slow process of letting us care about his plight.

Time is not on these characters’ side, however, and Vallée’s film clearly establishes the ineluctable ticking of the clock as weeks turn into days.

Dallas Buyers Club offers a vivid reminder of an era of constant uncertainty and widespread death not that long ago when AIDS patients with Kaposi’s sarcoma were treated like Jews with the yellow badge in Nazi Germany. Anyone who has battled a life-threatening illness is likely to sympathise with the main character of this film, and although the film’s stance on the efficacy of AZT is a little muddled (a final title card admits the medication actually turned out to be helpful, though not in the doses initially prescribed to patients), and it is at times difficult to watch, the story of fighting for survival is strong and compelling.

How to Survive a Plague (2012)

André Crous

How to Survive a PlagueUSA
4*

Director:
David France
Screenwriters:
David France
T. Woody Richman
Tyler H. Walk
Director of Photography:
Derek Wiesehahn

Running time: 120 minutes

Once, there was a terrible disease in the United States and around the world. It seemed to affect only homosexuals, and the discrimination against this already marginalised community increased as fear gripped the country over the fatality of the human immunodeficiency virus that led to blindness, deafness, sensitivity to the smallest illness, the unsightly Kaposi’s sarcoma, and almost certain death.

The 1980s and the first half of the 1990s were the worst for those suffering from the AIDS epidemic, as first the Reagan government was unwilling to address the epidemic (President Reagan infamously mentioned the word AIDS for the first time in public as late as 1987), the Ed Koch administration of New York City dragged its feet, and then the George H.W. Bush government didn’t push its drug administration and National Institute of Health to pursue research of the disease and of a potential cure with greater urgency.

How to Survive a Plague is a documentary that tells the story of how a group of activists brought down enormous pressure on the government, informed themselves about the virus, worked to raise public awareness and make the influential drug companies aware how their policies were affecting a large swathe of the population.

These activists formed part of a grassroots organisation called ACT UP, and there can be no doubt that it is because of the work of ACT UP that AIDS deaths have drastically decreased and medication is affordable to a very significant amount of people infected with the lethal virus. AIDS has not disappeared, but the AIDS crisis has, and it is because of the protests and the perseverance of ACT UP.

This documentary, comprised almost entirely of footage shot by dozens of individuals at the time of the epidemic that follows some of the main figures in the movement, starts in what is clearly presented as another lifetime: The appearance of the Twin Towers reminds us this was another lifetime. Labelled “Year 6”, the film opens in 1987 at a protest march against the policies of New York City Mayor Ed Koch, whom activist Ann Northrop beseeches to declare a state of emergency, so that those suffering in the emergency rooms, often for days before they are treated, usually assaulted by homophobic assailants right there in the waiting rooms, can be properly treated, with dignity.

There is incredible anger at Koch, and this anger, which extends to the government as a whole, fuels the movement for most of its existence, coupled with a strong urge to find a cure and stop the suffering and the death of thousands upon thousands of people. “It’s like living in a war,” says Peter Staley, a former bond trader on Wall Street, who is one of the main characters in the film. “All around me, friends are dropping dead. And you’re scared for your own life at the same time.”

The fear and the anger translated into many activists throwing caution to the wind and acting out in ways they may not have considered had they been healthy or unaffected, although some of the important individuals, like retired chemist Iris Long or Merck research scientist Emilio Emini, were not activists but participated because they cared, they knew they could make a difference and help all of these people in any way afflicted by HIV and AIDS.

Without a doubt, one of the most engaging figures is Peter Staley, who is good-looking, passionate and eloquent about the message of the movement. He scales government buildings to hang banners that proclaim “Silence = Death”, he appears on television programs to debate politicians about the government’s health policies, and he speaks at AIDS conferences that until then had largely excluded the voices of the movement. This last point is not really dealt with in any detail, however, and the film would have benefited from greater context.

We follow ACT UP’s fight against Burroughs Wellcome Company, the pharmaceutical firm that produced AZT, the first AIDS drug approved by the Food and Drug Administration, at the astronomical cost of $10,000 a year per patient, to getting DHPG approved, which would save the eyesight of tens of thousands of AIDS sufferers. Their actions are not just the result of their anger but also of an enormous amount of research, often by members who studied at Ivy League schools. They help people understand the virus and huddle with everyone else to come up with the best strategy to proceed. They would go on to form the Treatment and Data Committee, which would ultimately become the Treatment Action Group (TAG).

We follow the action as if someone had taken a camera back in time to record everything as it happened. Meetings in basements, interviews with some of the main people, family gatherings… everything is there in the film — even Staley riding his bike.

This film contains incredibly powerful moments, and they are almost always the result of inherent emotion on the faces of characters deeply affected by this epidemic, often the victims of decisions made by bureaucrats who don’t yet understand what ordinary people are going through on a day-to-day basis. And that is why it brings such insight to notice people like Ellen Cooper, who used to be an FDA regulator who had to explain the administration’s decisions to an angry ACT UP crowd, become AIDS activists themselves.

Interestingly, the scene that moved me more than anything else was also the most obviously filmic. It was the protest march against President George H.W. Bush’s apparent inaction on AIDS research. Tens of thousands of protesters flocked to Washington, D.C., and some even dumped the bones and ashes of their loved ones on the front lawn of the White House, their actions set to the eerie sounds of “Happiness” by Jónsi and Alex. This scene is incredibly powerful.

How to Survive a Plague tells a breathtaking story but falters towards the end when it starts using shorthand once Bill Clinton becomes president, skipping from 1993 to 1995, which is when research had picked up and the government agencies and public opinion had finally come around (with the exception of eternally homophobic Senator Jesse Helms) to agreeing that a cure should be sought. We are told these were the worst years, but we don’t know why. That is a terrible omission from the narrative.

However, suddenly seeing Mark Harrington (one of the leaders of TAG) and others appear as a much older man, knowing what that means, and hearing videographer Bill Bahlman confirm that “the dying was stopping,” quickly stuns us into silence.

Although it is only a few years since AIDS decimated entire communities, this film is a very vivid reminder of the trauma that accompanied the disease and shows how activism accelerated the research that eventually led to the cocktail, achieving major triumphs along the way, like getting DHPG approved and highlighting the absurdity of the Roman Catholic Church’s prohibition on using condoms.

If you want to know anything about the struggle against AIDS, this is the film to watch.

Someday, the AIDS crisis will be over. Remember that. And when that day comes, when that day has come and gone, there’ll be people alive on this earth — gay people and straight people, men and women, black and white — who will hear the story that once there was a terrible disease in this country and all over the world, and that a brave group of people stood up and fought, and in some cases gave their lives, so that other people might live and be free. — Vito Russo