Darfur Now

What do Don Cheadle, a wide-eyed activist, a high-powered Argentinean lawyer, a sheikh, a rebel fighter, and a UN worker have in common? A passion for effecting change in war-torn Darfur. Ted Braun, writer and director of “Darfur Now,” spotlights these six individuals in his latest surprisingly encouraging documentary.

“Darfur Now” makes its timely arrival on the heels of the U.S. declaration of genocide this September. Against convention, the Sudanese government granted Braun permission to shoot inside the region, and the well crafted film, thoroughly researched and consistently engaging, provides an informative snapshot of the cross-continental response to the crisis. However, its emphasis on small victories, while inspiring, diminishes the urgency of the situation.

The film spirals nicely inward. A world map with blinking exclamation points frames the opening credits, foreshadowing the film’s global subject matter. But Braun quickly makes it personal. His first quiet shots of the Darfur scenery are accompanied by one of so many heart-wrenching anecdotes.

Braun explores the different avenues from which to approach a humanitarian crisis. Each subject draws on the resources he or she has available, and the film demonstrates why every little bit helps.

Far off in Los Angeles, the quintessential “regular guy” and formerly apathetic Adam Sterling has access to a printer and grassroots appeal. Meanwhile, fellow American Don Cheadle relies on famous friends (namely George Clooney) and media access to translate his post-“Hotel Rwanda” concern into highly visible action.

Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, spearheads an operation to gather evidence and bring a case against two of Sudan’s guiltiest high-level officials. Within Darfur, Pablo Recalde, a U.N. ground worker, sends a heavily armed convoy to bring food to another region of Darfur, its future uncertain.

But no one experiences the crisis more intensely than those in Darfur. The camera highlights refugee solidarity, but the frustration and despair within the camp is equally palpable. Meetings explode into angry words and constant hardships leave people vulnerable to desperate compromises.

Braun singles out Hejewa Adam, a beautiful woman whose son was beaten to death on her back by the Janjaweed, the genocide’s most violent perpetrators. Adam is now a committed member of a rebel army. Alone in front of a wall scrawled with “I will die for Darfur,” she describes her new reality: “I have learned to fight. It is like drinking water.” Simple cuts contrast the people’s colorful clothes and silent faces with the landscape of unburied skeletons and charred bed frames.

As the film draws to a close, the mood swings upwards. Sterling’s Santa Monica petitioning and Cheadle’s celebrity efforts lead to a California divestment bill, signed at a star-studded ceremony. Warrants of arrest are issued for two of Sudan’s worst offenders. The food convoy reaches its destination. Adam tells her fellow rebels of the brave deeds of Ocampo, who will hold their oppressors accountable.

But for all this progress, Darfur looks remarkably the same. Though only one subject in the film is openly disappointed, the news reminds us every night why his frustrations are justified. Darfur, now, is still in trouble. In highlighting his subjects’ achievements, Braun makes the ongoing crisis a little too easy to forget.

But he leaves his audience no excuse for inaction. After all, if “regular guys” and movie stars are standing up, why aren’t you?