Modern artist Vik Muniz describes art as a thing of transformation, the ability to take something ugly or plain and mold it into something beautiful or socially poignant.
In its humble beginnings just profiling Muniz, the documentary “Waste Land” goes through such a transformation when it travels to Rio de Janiero and finds a thriving, happy and environmentally crucial community of garbage pickers in the world’s largest landfill.
Following the norm of many of the best documentaries ever made, “Waste Land” completely changes focuses mid-filming when Muniz sets out to make a difference at Jardim Gramacho, the largest landfill on the planet, and does not discover a city of drug addict, wastoid scavengers but a group of intellectuals who have established a comfortable living for themselves.
The catadores, as they are called, have organized a system in which all the trash that comes to the landfill is diligently picked through and sorted by recyclable materials. They provide a necessary link to the environment in eliminating unnecessary waste. What’s more, they’ve established workers unions for more than 3,000 people that work there, community libraries full of disposed books and living spaces complete with roads and utilities.
The capper to it all: These people are happy. I don’t feel sorry for these people as they pick through the trash, and neither does the movie. “Waste Land” never feels patronizing or pitiful in its portrayal of this society, only endearing. The intimate human element they unearth beneath the garbage is staggeringly heartfelt.
Lucy Walker directs the film, and she was a key part in the film’s final edit of 150 hours of footage over three years into this 99 minute film. But the real achievement was on producer Angus Aynsley’s part. He juggled four different directors and did everything he could to keep the cameras rolling as soon as he discovered the warmth in these people.
Listen to the way Aynsley talks about Tiao, the leader of the Pickers’ Union, and you’ll get a sense of how their tender emotion jumps off the screen.
“He is a young person full of incredible goodness, incredible wisdom and drive. He has a more natural ability than Vik does or than I do,” Aynsley said. “It’s that strength and power in all the people there, and it was a real privilege and joy to be hanging out with them even when the cameras weren’t rolling. You come away with a whole different perspective of humanity.”
What we come away with however is a lovely sense of the environment and the magnificent beauty of Muniz’s artwork. The film is gloriously photographed, achieving in slow motion, patient dolly shots and more what cannot be achieved in Muniz’s photographs. There are moments that are wonderfully ominous as a shaky camera stumbles around a truck piling on what seems like an endless amount of trash for the catadores to sort through.
But again, “Waste Land” transforms the more shocking images into enchanting depictions of how Muniz and the catadores assemble all the recyclable materials onto massive projected photographs. Muniz is known for using odd objects such as sugar and chocolate in his art, but these gigantic pieces seem the most remarkable.
“When you are watching this film, things are happening in front of you, and we are as surprised as you the audience are,” Aynsley said about “Waste Land.” It’s the reason Aynsley and I both feel the film is so moving.
3 ½ stars