Chevron's spill has killed thousands already.

There’s a rumble in the jungle, folks.  It’s a David and Goliath battle, and it’s the subject of Joe Berlinger’s excellent new documentary Crude: The Real Price of Oil.  If you’ve ever been a little angry knowing you’re getting screwed at the pump, while oil companies boast record profits, year after year, this movie will let you see what it really means to get screwed by Big Oil.  If you don’t know enough to even be pissed off about it all, just google, ‘Record Profits.’  You don’t even have to type in the word ‘Oil,’ because the first hits go directly to stories about the oil industry’s big profit bonanza.  In May of 2009, Chevron’s annual report boasted record profits for the fourth consecutive year, with ‘profits of $18.7 billion’, just as crude oil prices climbed to their highest levels in 26 years.  But don’t let me bore you with all the numbers, people.  There’s a story in this movie that’s much more fascinating than Chevron’s amazing ability to screw us all at the pump.  Crude is more about Chevron’s costly efforts to screw people out of their basic human rights, in the most criminal way possible.  If a Documentary is not your idea of an action packed summer flick, keep in mind that Crude offers a treacherous villain, a large number of innocent victims, mass disease, and even murder.

Guess who owns Texaco? Chevron!!

 But here’s the kicker: This story isn’t make-believe.  How’s that for a twist?  Granted, there are subtitles, and the pace is a little slow at times, but I challenge you action fans out there to find a fictional villain as scary as the real ones on display in this film. Just imagine a landmark court battle between Chevron and the indigenous people of Ecuador, fought over oil drenched jungle soil, where thousands of people and animals have died, thanks to what’s been referred to as the ‘Amazonian Chernobyl.’  Think big and dirty.  Big as in a spill roughly the size of Rhode Island, and dirty as in ten times worse than the Exxon Valdez disaster.  That’s what this fight is all about.  Fighting in the green corner, coming in at a significant size, and financial disadvantage is our lovable underdog, Pablo Fajardo.  Fajardo is an Ecuadorian lawyer living in a two-room shack, still battling on behalf of the disadvantaged people of his country, even after thirteen years without a ruling from the courts.  During those first few years, Pablo’s brother was murdered when the bad guys hired to kill Pablo got all mixed up, and tortured the wrong guy to death.  Hmm… I wonder who might want Pablo dead?  Fighting against Mr. Fajardo, in the dark and slimy corner, is Chevron, with their endless scare tactics, resources, and spin campaigns, hiding behind their army of lawyers. 

Pablo Fajardo talks into the cameras.

It’s pretty disturbing to watch all the well-paid Chevron representatives speak on behalf of the company in this movie.  These people don’t bat an eye.  Even when they’re exposed to the laundry list of human rights violations their company is responsible for, even when the evidence is completely obvious, these people still find a way to put the money where their mouthes should be.  What’s maybe the most disturbing thing about Crude though, is the fact that Berlinger worked on this film for three years, and there’s still been no verdict in the case, thanks in large part to the company’s efforts to stall proceedings at every turn.  Tack those last three years on to the thirteen that Pablo and his friends have been fighting against Chevron, and you’ve got a total of sixteen years.  Which begs the question: How many angry, dying, indigenous Ecuadorians does it take to prove that Chevron should clean up the enormous toxic mess they made?  How many skin rashes, cancer cases, stomach infections, and dead relatives do these people have to suffer through to get a little justice?  Well, watch the movie, decide for yourself, and get back to me.  I’ll be stringing together every red cent I’ve got so I can afford another gallon of gas, but rest assured, I won’t be buying that shit from Chevron.

Bang-Bang anyone?

The Baader Meinhoff Complex bangs away for two and a half hours, re-telling the true story of the Red Army Faction, a radical German protest group so violent, they make the Black Panthers and The Weather Underground seem like pacifists in comparison.  The story of the RAF may not be very well known in the United States, but that’s not the only reason this excellent film is worth the attention of American audiences.  The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and aside from the amazing story, what’s most remarkable here are the main characters, who remain fascinating throughout, in spite of their many flaws.  Keep in mind folks, these people were not only serious and committed in their beliefs, they were also out and out murderers.  In their wake, the RAF left a trail of 47 dead.  Despite all the unrepentant violence though, these characters somehow come across as complex and intensely human.  

For a film like this, it’s clear that getting an audience to identify with the main characters might be the biggest stumbling block for the filmmakers. But Producer/Screenwriter Bernd Eichinger, and Director Uli Edel, have pulled it off by simply attempting to recreate history, and allowing the audience to make up their own minds with regard to the rest.  Together, the two have painted a compelling portrait of Germany in the late 1960′s and early 70’s, effectively giving the audience a taste of the atmosphere that spawned the RAF.

These guys were not big fans of peaceful protest.

 Imagine if you can, Germany in 1968: the sexual revolution is in full bloom, the cold war is still ice cold, and the German student population is beginning to unearth the wicked sins of the last generation.  For many young people, that meant coming to the stunning realization that their parents, family members, and government leaders were guilty of supporting or even playing a part in Hitler’s Nazi regime.  The bloody images of the U.S. conflict in Vietnam that invade German television don’t really help matters, and the issue of a rubber stamped genocide heats things up even further.  The German government’s complicit approval of the war, and a visit by the Shah and Princess of Iran, sparks a peaceful student protest, just as unrest grows tangible.  The protest results in a mass student beating, led by the Shah’s supporters and German police, leaving one protester shot dead in the street.  The event becomes a flashpoint for the creation of the so called “first generation” of the RAF, led by Gudrun Ensslin  and Andreas Baader.  As a young militant girl who plays for keeps, Ensslin is played with sultry, manipulative brilliance by Johanna Wokalek.  Moritz Bleibtreu plays Baader, her lover and very real partner in crime, as a selfish bully who charms loyal followers through sheer fearlessness.  Martina Gedeck gives the most complex and nuanced performance in the film however as Ulrike Meinhoff, a sympathetic journalist with a husband and two young daughters, who eventually turns her back on her life to join the RAF.

The RAF, relaxing at home like any nice little family should.

The three join forces and together with their followers become known as the Baader-Meinhoff Gang, thanks in part to Meinhoff’s propagandist communiques to the German press.  The arson, bombings, jailbreak, and point blank shootings they commit together in protest, eventually lands each one of them in German prison.  The film takes on a slower pace as the group goes stir crazy while awaiting court proceedings in jail.  The pace of the action is mitigated however by the galvanizing effect their capture has on remaining members, as second and third generations of the RAF form.  The subsequent actions taken on behalf of The Baader-Meinhoff Gang, reads like a modern history of terrorism in Europe, and for that reason alone this film is worth watching.  

New chapters on European terrorism unfold on screen while the main characters await their fate, and the viewer is forced to consider what plants the seeds of anger initially, and what, if anything might be done to break the chain of violence in the end.  All of these ideas are worth some serious consideration, and the film’s relevance is only magnified by the quality of the script, direction, and performances throughout.  Without a doubt, this film is definitely worth seeing people, and all the more if you can catch it while it’s still up on the big screen.

This is not your average World War II flick.

The fact that this film is not really an average anything might be exactly why it’s worth your attention.  My advice: Don’t let anyone tell you that Inglourious Basterds completely sucks, or that it’s the best war film ever made.  Truth be told, it’s neither of those things, but the film has got style and tension in spades, and it’s actually entertaining throughout.  With a run time of just over two and a half hours, that’s quite a feat in itself.  Quentin Tarantino’s new feature is by no means a throw away, but it’s not his best work to date either.  My recommendation is to go out and see this one for yourself.  You’ll need to take what everybody else says about Basterds with a grain of salt, since people tend to talk in extremes when it comes to Tarantino.  Be forewarned though, this particular film is a contradiction of terms in a number of ways.  To begin with, it’s a historical film that refutes history, a drama that’s often funnier than it is serious, and a virtual dictionary of cinematic references, without paying much heed to the significance of the references.  Tarantino’s World War II is populated with cartoon style tough guys, beautiful femme fatales, and larger than life villains that at times can collectively seem more like caricatures than serious characters.  That being said, you’ll be hard pressed to find very many scenes in this film that don’t set up and string out the tension to the maximum, thanks in large part to some great performances from the cast. 

Christoph Waltz kills them with kindness as 'Landa.'

Much of the tension throughout comes from the stellar Christoph Waltz as Col. Hans Landa.  Also known as “The Jew Hunter,” Waltz makes every scene he works in interesting somehow.  The opening scene with Waltz and the superb Dennis Menochet is worth the price of admission alone.  Not only does Waltz know how to make you hang on his every word, he does it while alternating between English, French, German, and Italian.  Landa’s hunt for Jews, which he likens to rats, takes him throughout Nazi occupied France and drives much of the action in the film.  Brad Pitt’s Aldo Raine pushes another story line as the leader of the Basterds, who are, you guessed it, a platoon of American Jews, each on a mission to capture 100 Nazi scalps.  Pitt plays Raine as the consummate cartoon tough guy, and his accent and lines are often more comical than anything else.  The performance meshes well with the pulpy, make believe world of heroes and villains that Tarantino has created though.  Some of the most entertaining moments in the film in fact, involve the laughs that Pitt’s accent and tough guy act provide.  

Diane Kruger parties with the enemy.

As for the Basterds, the characters are pretty thin, and none are very memorable aside from Til Schweiger as the German born, Nazi turncoat member of the Basterds, Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz.  Michael Fassbender also does some notably fantastic work with his limited screen time as the British Lt. Archie Hicox, as does Diane Kruger in the role of the German actress Bridget Von Hammersmark.  Strong performances aside, what makes this film worth watching is Tarantino’s effort to blend and bend the genre into something different and all his own.  He avoids the tribute to honor and bravery that is so typical of World War II films, in favor of something that moves in another direction, something that’s tougher to define.  My hunch is that he knows all to well how many films have paid that tribute already.  I applaud the effort to create something different, but more than anything, I appreciate the fact that he still knows how to keep it entertaining.  Don’t take my word for it though.  This is one of those films you’ve got to go out and see for yourself.

If you love music, if you’ve ever been passionate about something, or if you ever just wished you could be a fly on the wall, Rock Prophecies (presented by the Samsung Memoir™) will connect with you.  I caught an advance screening of the documentary at a Capitol Records release party and left both inspired and enthralled.  But don’t just take my word for it.  Directed by John Chester, the film has garnered audience awards at festivals in Maui, Dallas, and Nashville already this year.  The film will screen at Hollywood’s ArcLight Cinemas between August 7th and August 13th, before hitting more stops on the 2009 festival circuit.

What powers the film throughout are the photographs and amazing life experiences of Mr. Robert M. Knight.  Robert was at the Capitol Records screening I attended, and after fielding questions from the crowd, then getting mobbed by admirers, he was kind enough to let me talk with him for a few minutes.  On screen, in person, and during our subsequent taped interview, Robert’s compelling photos and stories seem to have a way of creating a captive audience time and time again.  As a rock photographer for the better part of five decades, the guy has collected a few good stories, to say the least.  But there’s an amazing amount of discretion and integrity on his part, with regard to the stories he won’t tell, and the photos he won’t sell.  He’s captured some of the earliest and most iconic images of the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin, right up to current artists such as Green Day, Sick Puppies and Tyler Dow Bryant.  As a result, the film is filled with amazing images, and the kind of stories you might actually wish were your own.  But these aren’t kiss and tell type stories.  On the contrary, there’s no real gossip in the movie.  It becomes clear early on in the film, that the relationships he’s built and kept with the musicians in his life depend upon a well developed trust.

That doesn’t mean that the stories and photos on offer aren’t the stuff of dreams though.  Nowhere is that made more obvious than on the big screen, where Chester and co.help Robert’s images take flight in mysterious ways.  If you ever wished you could watch Jimi Hendrix play live, or just hang out with Led Zeppelin, before the rest of the world knew who they were, you might want to see this movie.   The filmmakers do a great job of allowing the viewer to actually travel through the photographer’s images in the film.  As for how that part works, well, you’ll just have to see the film to know what I’m talking about.  The quality of the images, the mesmerizing movement through them, and the cinematography all combine to create a multilayered visual effect that is technically impressive.  But it’s Robert’s life long love for the music, and his genuine excitement about the artists he photographs, that really provides the emotional uplift for the viewer.  If it’s been a while since you’ve seen a movie that inspires, this might be just the ticket for you, as it’s worth the price of admission and then some.

Robert M. Knight is worth watching.  He’s worth listening to, and his stories are definitely worth your consideration.  Robert’s life and photos are the focus of a new documentary film titled Rock Prophecies.  Directed by John Chester, the film will run at Hollywood’s ArcLght cinemas from August 7^th until August 13^th, before hitting film festivals across the country. The film has garnered audience awards from three film festivals in 2009, and you can check out my take on the film in our movie reviews section here on BtH.  What becomes apparent in the film and in our exclusive interview with Robert is the fact that he has collected so many amazing stories and experiences over the course of five decades.

In the video, Robert discusses the film, and some of his relationships with rock gods, such as Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Led Zeppelin.

Here are some of Robert’s classic photographs of the Stones, Zeppelin, and Elton John:

Please take a look at the Rock Prophecies website for a trailer of the documentary, and check your local listings to see when it is playing in your city.

This game was a thriller.

Talk about highs and lows.  If you saw the U.S. men’s soccer team take on Brazil in the Confederations Cup Final, then you know what I’m talking about.  It didn’t even matter what team you were supporting in this game, because there were highs and lows aplenty for both teams.  For the average American fan (that would be me), this game was like a first crush.  You know, the one that feels so good at first, but just ends up crushing your heart in the end.  Well, just picture that person (your first crush).  Whoever that person was, well that person was like this game.  For the average American soccer fan (again, that’s me), all the highs came in the first half.  In the ninth minute, Clint Dempsey swiped at a cross from Jonathan Spector and something unbelievable happened.  Dempsey’s foot seemed to barely make contact with the ball, but the ball sliced perfectly past Julio Cesar, into the corner of the Brazilian net.  Brazil pushed forward after the goal, but they looked a little frantic and off rhythm, despite dominating possession of the ball.  Then, against the run of play, Landon Donovan somehow scored a stunning second goal for the U.S. in the twenty-sixth minute.  Donovan exchanged passes with Charlie Davies on a U.S. counter attack, then executed a perfect cutback and shot to slide in a second shock goal for his team. I still don’t know what was more of a shock in the first half, the two U.S. goals, or the fact that Brazil couldn’t score a goal of their own.  For the average Brazilian fan, it must have felt like an all time low for their national team.  Not only were they getting beaten in a final, they were getting beaten by a country that didn’t even really care about soccer that much.  The fact that Americans call the game soccer and not football, is a slap in the face in itself. To actually get beaten by an American team in a FIFA final though, might seem like a disgrace for a country with as rich and proud a football history as Brazil. 

Eventually, Brazil did score.

 

But none of it matters now anyway.  All of the speculation is a wash anyway, since the second half was another story entirely.  Brazil smashed in three goals against the U.S. and the Americans couldn’t reply with a single goal of their own.  Luis Fabiano struck two well taken goals, and then Lucio crashed in a header past Tim Howard.  In spite of allowing the three goals, Howard was the most valuable player for the Americans in my book, for saving so many others.  Brazil actually scored an additional goal, but the referee and his linesman must have been to slow to see the ball cross the line before Howard swatted it away.  Instant replay made it all too painfully obvious though.  The Brazilians in fact scored four goals in the second half, to raise the cup deservedly and crush my heart.  I’m still trying to figure out if I deserved to have my heart crushed, but that’s another story entirely.

The high point for Brazil was pretty high.

But let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water here.  For Brazil, this final marks yet another FIFA championship where that lovable samba swagger and style carried the day in the end.  As for the U.S., this loss was actually a new height of sorts.  The U.S. men’s team had never before reached a cup final in a FIFA sponsored event.  By beating Spain, the number one ranked team in the world, 2-0 in the semifinals , the U.S. showed that it’s more of a team to be reckoned with than many folks might like to admit. The fact that the U.S. took a lead, and nearly beat the all mighty Brazil in the final, speaks volumes about how far the team has come.  But with new heights of hope, come new lows.  My hunch is that fans of U.S. soccer (yours truly) will have to learn how much it sucks to get to a final and lose, like so many other countries have in the past, before we can actually win one in the end.

So, I know how I'm supposed to feel.

So the Lakers are NBA Champions again.  Yawn.  Am I bored?  Well, yeah a little.  Am I a hater?  No.  In fact, I’m a Laker fan.  But not the kind that up and decided to become a fan a few weeks back.  I grew up in L.A., smiling about Magic and the Showtime era Lakers.  But maybe that’s my problem.  Maybe that’s the thing that was such a downer for me about this championship.  In a quick, disappointing five game series, the score line read Lakers 4, Magic 1.  I hate to admit it, but last years NBA finals was pretty much the same thing, with the Celtics stomping all over the Lakers in an embarrassing rout of a series.  With respect to last year’s finals, this title was a sweet little bit of redemption for the Lakers and their fans, no doubt about it.  So that part was nice.  I can admit it.  But all these monstrous blowouts in the finals are kind of bumming me out…man.  In the dying minutes of game five, I actually found myself feeling a little sorry for the Magic. Maybe it was just Rafer Alston’s tears. 

Rafer Alston played his heart out but came up short.

Maybe I was sorry for basketball itself, and all those neutral fans out there, that just wanted to tune in and watch a great series.  A championship is a championship, I know, but something was missing.  I know that might sound a little greedy, but what can I say?  When it’s true, it’s true.  I was trying to pinpoint what it was for a few days, and I think I’ve finally figured it out.   The thing that I’m missing are the days when you turned on the NBA finals and you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen for a second, because every moment, every point, and every elbow seemed to matter.  I miss those great seesaw battles, with two evenly matched teams, two clear stars.  I miss Magic and Bird.  I miss the two evenly matched supporting casts they had, willing to battle until the last second for that slim advantage that could make or break a game.  Back in the day, a slim advantage actually could make or break a game in the finals.  Nowadays it seems like every other game is a blowout.  Nowadays the most exciting battles in the postseason take place in the series that lead up to the finals, rather than during the championship games. Games two, three, and four of this series were great to watch, without a doubt.  And that being said, it would be hard to deny that Derek Fisher’s clutch shots in game four provided a couple of stunning moments.  But by and large, this series was not anywhere near a fantastic finals to watch. 

Derek Fisher hit some big three pointers.

All in all, I think this series means more to Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson than to anyone else.  Kobe took one giant step, out from under Shaq’s big shadow with this title.  He also took another big step in his attempt to chase down all the greatness that Michael Jordan represents.  Even if Kobe were to win two more titles, to tie Michael’s six, there are always going to be folks who complain that Kobe’s first three were really Shaq’s anyway.  It’s kind of a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation, but you can tell that Kobe is going to fight tooth and nail to match or even trump Mike by a title if he can.  As for Phil, he’s reached the Zenith of Zen with ten.  He’s got one more than Red Auerbach now, so he’s already in the spot that Kobe wants to be in.  I’m betting that both of them will smell more titles and come back for a few more seasons, as long as Phil’s health permits.  Why?  Because when you’re on top it feels good, and if you want to stay on top you’ve just got to keep going, even if it gets a little boring from time to time.

Kobe and Phil could both come back to win a few more of these.

Barcelona are Europe's new club champions.

In the end, Barcelona’s slick passing style was way too much for Manchester United to handle.  If you only watched the first five minutes of this game, you would have put all your money on Manchester United to crush Barcelona.  But by the end of the game it was the other way around, with Barcelona’s fans shouting “OLE!” every time they completed yet another pass in and around the Manchester United defense.  

 

Eto celebrates his tenth minute goal

 

In the opening minutes Manchester dominated play, by creating an onslaught on the Barcelona goal.  Cristiano Ronaldo and Ji-Sung Park both came close to scoring for Manchester early on.  But the game was turned on its head when Barcelona scored against the run of play in the tenth minute.  Andres Iniesta ran through the midfield with the ball before slipping a neat pass through to Samuel Eto inside Manchester United’s box.  Eto then cut past Nemanja Vidic before stabbing the ball past Edwin van der Sar at the near post.  After the goal, Barcelona seized the momentum, and began to boss the game by maintaining possession of the ball.  Andres Iniesta and Xavi began to look particularly dominant in midfield.  In my preview of the game, I mentioned that if these two players could keep possession of the ball for Barcelona, my guess was that their team would carry the day.  By halftime it looked like my hunch was right, but I wasn’t sure what Sir Alex Ferguson might pull out his bag of tricks at half time.  He brought on Carlos Tevez in place of Andersen, and for a few minutes, the choice looked to be effective with Tevez lunging at defenders and breaking up Barcelona’s play out of the back.  I expected more of a full-blooded response from United as a whole though, but truth be told, it turned out to be more of the same in the second half.  Xavi, and Iniesta continued to dominate possession in midfield, while Barcelona’s makeshift backline of Puyol, Pique, Toure, and Sylvinho somehow began to look like the world’s best defense.  Things went from bad to worse for United in the 70^th minute, when Xavi sent a beautiful spinning ball across the face of the United goal to pick out Messi, who leapt and lofted a headed goal into the corner past van der Sar. 

 

Messi scores Barcelona's second goal.

Save for a few moments of counter attack excitement from United, the remainder of the match was spurred on by Barcelona’s neat distribution.  It seemed like United had no answer for Barcelona’s swift and subtle passes, and Ronaldo in particular looked frustrated.  He earned himself a yellow card for shoving Puyol late in the game, but was fortunate not to be booked earlier for a few rash challenges.  With the stakes high in this game, it now looks exceedingly likely that the votes for World Player of the Year will probably go to Messi, rather than Ronaldo.  Messi was not only was the top scorer in the Champions league, but also managed to score in the final, with Ronaldo silenced.  Messi and his Barcelona teammates found a way to break down the Red Devils, and were justified in their celebrations as European Club Champions.  After witnessing the Champions League Final, if Lionel Messi gets the plaudits this year for European and World Player of the Year, the awards he receives will be equally justified.

The Champions League Trophy

It’s on.  The dream final is set for May 27^th in Rome. It’s Barcelona’s beautiful game vs. Manchester United’s world-beaters.  You couldn’t ask for anything more in a final.  The game pits Spain’s best vs. England’s best, and affords United the chance to defend their European title against a Barcelona side that is arguably the most stylish team in the world at the moment.  And the best part is there should be goals, goals, and more goals. 

Lionel Messi-The Young Gun

If you are a European soccer fan, then you don’t need me to tell you that the final on May 27^th will be worth watching.  But if you aren’t a fan of soccer (or football as it’s known everywhere else in the world-and for good reason), the UEFA Champions League Final on the 27^th is the perfect introduction. Not only will you get to watch the reigning World Player of the Year in Cristiano Ronaldo, in arguably his biggest game, but you’ll also get to watch the new kid on the block square off against him.  Lionel Messi, who was last year’s runner up, is the guy that seems to get everyone’s vote as the new World Player of the Year, and it will be fascinating to see which player’s talents are the most influential in the final.  Beyond this gargantuan battle between the two best players in the world, there is the battle of the teams they play for.  Manchester United are the reigning European and World Club Champions.  They also were just crowned Champions of the English Premier League for a record tying eighteenth time.  So needless to say, they are doing all right.  Barcelona were recently crowned Champions of the Primera Liga in Spain, a week after winning the country’s elimination round tournament known as the Copa Del Rey.  Reports from Spain claim that a win in the final against Manchester United would put an exclamation point on the club’s best season ever.

 

Cristiano Ronaldo-The Reigning Champ

But let’s get to the goals part.  Barcelona will be missing their best defenders in Rafael Marquez (knee injury) and Carles Puyol (suspension), so chances are that Manchester United’s awesome Ronaldo led attack force will score some goals. United are by no means a one trick pony, with Wayne Rooney, Dimitar Berbatov, and Carlos Tevez fighting for playing time up front.  That being said, Barcelona head into the final boasting the most potent strike force in Europe this year. Their three-prong attack, led by the twenty one year old Messi, Samuel Eto, and Thierry Henry, has combined for more goals than any other team on the continent this year.  The question is, whether or not their skills can get the best of Manchester United’s well-oiled machine of a defense.  But of course the larger question is:  Who’s going to win?  My guess is that Barcelona’s superior midfield, led by Andres Iniesta and Xavi Hernandez, will carry the day. Will there be goals, goals, and more goals?  I can’t say for sure, but if the game lives up to it’s promise, people will be talking about this one for decades.  My advice: tune in.

Jedi Cops in Scotland

This is no joke. But it is pretty exciting news for Star Wars fans everywhere. According to a report by the BBC, there are eight police officers and two civilian members of the Strathclyde Police Department who claim to be Jedi.  Strathclyde is Scotland’s largest police department, serving the area in and around Glasgow, Scotland.  It turns out that a publication called Jane’s Police Review obtained the information in a Freedom of Information request. The BBC then confirmed the existence of the Jedi cops through a spokeswoman for Strathclyde Police. According to the article, the spokeswoman said, “At the time of the request, 10 (eight police officers and two police staff) had recorded their religion as Jedi.”

When I first read about this, I couldn’t help but imagine eight ass-kicking Jedi, roaming the streets of Glasgow in dark cloaks. I pictured them working alone, calmly walking down dark alleyways, or perched atop old gray buildings, hunting for crimes in progress. What might be even easier to imagine though, for fans and non-fans alike, is that a few of Scotland’s finest claimed to be Jedi for the sake of a good laugh.  But that’s where the story gets even more interesting. It turns out that these Jedi cops are not alone actually. I’m not making this stuff up people.

The BBC pointed out that, according to a 2001 census study, a total of 14,000 people in Scotland chose to voluntarily disclose their religion of choice to be Jedi. It’s one thing for a few cops, from the same department to joke around and claim to be Jedi, but it’s quite another thing for 14,000 people to be in on the same joke. The good people of Scotland shouldn’t get all the Jedi credit though. That same year, some 390,000 people in England and Wales claimed Jedi as their religion. That’s a total of 404,000 Jedi in the UK alone. For that many people to be in on a joke way back in 2001 would be definitely a stretch, to say the least. For a few Scottish cops to be claiming the same thing, nearly 8 years later though, makes me believe that being a Jedi is more than just a joke for many of these people. Call me crazy,  but my guess is that these Jedi are more than just fans of the movies; these are fans that actually connect with the concept of the Force, and the awareness of it, as a philosophy of life of sorts.

The BBC mentioned that last year, two brothers founded the UK Church of The Jedi. Barney and Daniel Jones apparently had enough interest in their religion of choice, to create a church that, according to the article, “offered sermons on the Force, light sabre training, and meditation techniques.” Maybe this a way of life for some people? That’s my take on it all, but I’d like to hear yours though. I’d also like to find out why I haven’t heard about any Jedi here in the U.S. or anywhere else for that matter.  If you  know something about this that I don’t, or have something to say about it, please, be my guest.  I’d love to hear from members of the Church of The Jedi in particular.  

One last question for all of you, if you had the chance to go check out the Church of the Jedi, would you?