I am about to tell you about a new and extraordinary documentary film, “White Light Black Rain” that is currently playing on HBO.
The film documents what many young people probably do not know and many others have pushed out of their minds. It is about the destruction of two cities in Japan at the end of World War II. This is what happened. In an effort to end the war against Japan, on August 6, 1945, the United States dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan. One hundred forty thousand died. As if that were not enough, and because the United States did not get the quick response it wanted – unconditional surrender – on August 9 it dropped another atom bomb on Nagasaki, killing 70,000 more Japanese. Japan’s unconditional surrender followed almost immediately after the second bomb fell. This year is the 62nd anniversary of the destruction of those two cities. Over the years since the bombs fell, another 160,000 Japanese died from the effects of the bombs, mostly from radiation poisoning and any number of other maladies associated with what the bomb brought on those fateful days.
Directed, written and produced by veteran filmmaker Steven Okazaki, the film is, “White Light Black Rain: The Destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. ” Though it first aired on August 6, 2007, it is still playing at various times on HBO, so check the listings. When I learned about the documentary I did not want to see it. Over the years, I had seen enough of the remarkable and horrifying pictures of the destruction, of the dead, and of those treated by medical teams soon after the bombings. I did not want to relive the horror. There is enough horror around us everyday. I did not need more. One night recently, however, I made myself watch the film, and as difficult as it was, I am glad I did. It should be required viewing for everyone.
Not everybody in Hiroshima and Nagasaki died on those momentous days. Many people were vaporized, yes vaporized. Not everyone was burned beyond recognition, though many were. There were survivors, many of whom were children at the time. The film is as much their story as it is the story of those who died. It is also the story of personal courage that allowed some of these survivors to stay alive, perhaps to tell how they lived in spite of how they suffered, and still do. Their powerful first person accounts of their lives and how they survived against tremendous odds are riveting. Yet, the telling of the stories is quiet, understated and dignified. Possibly the reason some lived through the conflagration is to be able to remind us, in a film such as this, how nuclear weapons can easily destroy cities and the people who live in them.
The images from those first days after the bomb fell are searing. It is hard to believe there was so much film, so detailed a photographic record following the mass destruction of those two cities. Watching the old film ably mixed with the contemporary interviews and then looking at the powerful, though simple drawings used as connective tissue in the early part of the film I found it hard not to weep.
Despite the images and reliving the horror in words and images, the film is unpretentious. It does not scream or raise its voice about the obscenity of nuclear warfare unleashed on the world August 6 and August 9, 1945. The pictures and testimonies, including those of a few Americans involved in the bombings, are so strong the film does not have to shout at us about how unspeakable the bombings were. That people could survive these many years after near total destruction and continue lives of unimagined difficulty makes almost many other survivor stories pale by comparison. In the end, I found the film uplifting.
There is an ongoing dialogue concerning the use and meaning of copyright. It is often nasty and certainly acerbic. The dialogue is usually in the form of an argument between those who do and those who do not, between those who can and those who cannot. The following will be part of that conversation.
I mean to distinguish between those who gain a copyright for their creative work and those who want to use someone else’s creative efforts for their own gain without paying for it. Those who believe they own someone else’s, anyone else’s creation are wrong. They do not deserve to manipulate another person’s work to foster a personal vision. In other words, it is not okay to use what I created as a jumping off point for your creation. Usually the younger generation through sites like YouTube, MySpace, Facebook and others, and the many more coming online seemingly daily, are used to getting most of their entertainment for free or for very little money. These people are the biggest transgressors when it comes to abusing copyright.
In this new world of social networking nothing is sacred, especially ownership of something created by an individual or a team. Problem is that everyone wants to be auteur. Few want to apprentice. There are also fewer reliable critics around to opine what is good, bad, or otherwise. If everyone believes he or she is equal, no one can step to the front with something that others feel is unique. Also, some critics pander to the new for the sake of the new, and so lose their ability to be critical. Again, new does not mean something is valuable. Today, new often means nothing less than something shiny — a trinket — rather than a work of lasting value.
I believe in copyright. I try to make a living from what I create, whether a film or a book. If I make money, it could be the difference between the dole or not. If I own a copyright that I might have worked for years to achieve, what gives someone who does nothing the right to use my creative effort for his or her own gain? It is hard for me to understand why someone would want to deny the rights to that work to my heirs and me. Why is it wrong for me to will that copyright to my heirs if I create something that might have value? My heirs carry my genes. My heirs are part of me. One reason why I work hard is for their benefit. Giving my children and grandchildren the rights to my work, thus a part of me, is one of the many things that drive me to create. Maybe what I create will inspire my heirs also to create something that will have value in the marketplace. I know they will honor the gift I pass along to them. Someone else sitting at a computer or editing system, if copyright disappeared, might profit from my work or someone else’s work by only lifting a mindless finger to change, or in my view, desecrate what may have taken me years to achieve.
Why is it difficult to understand for the anti-copyright advocates that I want to put bread on the table through my creativity, or gift? If you want to use what I create, compensate me for my effort. In some cases, I might give you permission to use what I made as long as you credit me properly. If you want to copy my work without crediting me or paying me, I say no. That would be stealing, one of the Ten Commandants.
I say this — on your own, try to write a book or play, compose or paint, make a film, or sculpt and see how hard it is. Then you might understand why those of us who believe in copyright are against pirates. Some want to change the law to limit creative ownership. The opponents of copyright believe that each creative work fosters other creative work when that work is free in the marketplace. I strongly oppose changing the law. I want to keep it the way it is or even extend it beyond where it now stands.
The idea that someone should feel entitled to use my material because in his or her words, he or she will create something new does not wash. New does not translate into something significant. Do not believe for a second that because I own a copyright that my material is significant, but it is mine and I should have the inalienable right to do as I wish with it. I am not interested in seeing my work as a mash up, a remix, a cut and paste job. Those terms are a profound insult to my creativity and to me. Those concepts are in disregard of my intellectual property rights. I am not interested in content generated from my creation by freeloading users on a participatory Web site. I am not interested in interactive sharing. Do not try to improve on my work. If it is not good for you, I would rather it died a natural death than to have an amateur come along and fix it to his or her satisfaction. Hands off and we can get along. Your hands on means you are not capable of creating something original on your own. There is a stop sign in front of my creations. That should tell anyone interested in “playing with it” for his or her own gain to stay away from my intellectual property. Read it, view it, and enjoy it or not. Tell me you like it or not. Do not use it for your own gain. If you want to use what I own, pay me. Call me a Philistine, if you wish. That is your right. Culture is free, but a movement to make everything in culture free is a foolish dream.
