
Phoenix New Times
April 16-22, 1998
Koresh and Burn
Haunting Nonfiction Waco Documents
A Cult Above
By M.V. Moorhead
You're not likely to come out of the bone-chilling
documentary Waco: The Rules of Engagement with the belief that David Koresh
was angelic, or that he had no hand in the deaths of his Branch Davidian
followers in Waco, Texas, in April of 1993. But, if you assumed that the
subsequent brutality charges against the ATF were all baseless right-wing
paranoia, the film may make you reconsider.
And in any case, strictly as a piece of cinema, Waco will leave you shaken
up. It's an exhausting, deliberately sensationalist work. With recordings
of children asking telephone negotiators "Are you gonna come in and
kill me?" and video footage of the same kids waving bye-bye and endless
angles on the burning compound and graphic, nearly unwatchable postmortem
photos of the victims, including the smallest of them, it works you over
pretty good. And it makes you admit that, one way or another, Waco is
an important story.
That is of value in itself, because liberals and moderates can feel it's
risky to get too worked up over Waco. By association, it feels too much
like you're participating in the same maudlin rage that led to that shattered
building in Oklahoma City.
The makers of Waco: The Rules of Engagement, however, hardly seem like
reactionaries. The executive producers, Dan Gifford and Amy Sommer Gifford,
come out of a background of, respectively, hard news (ABC, CNN, MacNeil/Lehrer)
and tabloid TV (Maury Povich). The director, William Gazecki, won an Emmy
for postproduction sound-mixing on St. Elsewhere; that seems to be the
high point of his career prior to Waco (which was nominated for, but did
not win, an Oscar this year).
Of course, just because the film may not be right-wing manipulation doesn't
necessarily mean it's not left-wing manipulation. And in certain respects,
that's what it feels like. The filmmakers work a bit too hard to soften
the image of Koresh, to distinguish him from the likes of Jim Jones --
the film acknowledges, but seems dismissive of, the convincing charge
that he was a compulsive statutory rapist.
Gazecki and the Giffords also seem rather too eager to cast the Davidians,
a breakaway End-Times sect of the Seventh-Day Adventists which had existed
since decades before Koresh was born, as a legitimate religion rather
than a cult. They skimp, for instance, on the grisly details of Koresh's
violent clashes for control of the sect with a man named George Roden,
who in 1987 ordered that a deceased member's body be exhumed so that he
and Koresh could compete at trying to raise the woman from the dead. Koresh
reportedly declined the proposal, but one wonders if this juicy episode
was omitted from the film because it would make the Davidians seem too
"fringy" for sympathy. Just because Waco: The Rules of Engagement
may not be right-wing manipulation doesn't necessarily mean it's not left-wing
manipulation.
Apologetics on Koresh's behalf hurt the film, because they're off the
point. His guilt or innocence has little to do with the case which Waco
makes convincingly: that the ATF agents began the raid as a reckless publicity
stunt at appropriations time, and that, stung by the Davidians' resistance,
they may have ended it as a deliberate massacre in revenge. There's a
particularly sickening shot of an ATF flag which the agents ran up the
Davidians' flagpole after destruction of the compound, which suggests
the frantic machismo, the terror of threatened potency (on both sides,
admittedly) that led to the bloodshed.
The video footage of the preparation for the raid suggests a strong weekend-warrior
element to the ATF's mentality. The phone negotiator, who's often astonishingly
frank with the Davidians he's talking to, acknowledges this himself in
one recording: "The guys that gravitate toward, you know, riding
in tanks, jumping out of airplanes and stuff like that are a little different
mindset than you or I, right? So when they get a chance to use a Bradley
. . . Hey, let's drive this baby and see how it works . . ." When
these "Bradleys" finally start crashing through the walls of
the compound, while an amplified voice keeps repeating, "This is
not an assault," it's like we're watching some sort of Orwellian,
apocalyptic sci-fi.
The filmmakers present forensic evidence -- much of it in the form of
infrared video footage -- which they claim shows that the agents started
the fire deliberately and shot sect members who were trying to flee, although
the FBI, which by this time had taken over the operation, claimed not
to have fired a single shot during the final raid. Even for those of us
who may mistrust federal law enforcement, such charges are difficult to
accept, simply on a human level.
Yet this interpretation of the evidence seems plausible -- plausible enough,
at least, that it didn't deserve the angry dismissal it received from
the Democrats during Congressional hearings. Even though all those pasty,
thin-lipped Republicans mourning the Davidians wouldn't have given a shit
about them if Koresh and his followers hadn't loved guns and hated taxes,
the Dems still come off worse than anyone else in the film -- it's upsetting
to see this sort of blindly partisan grandstanding from one's own party.
Still, it's hard not to come to the conclusion that it was the suicidally
dilatory Koresh, more than anyone else, who sealed the fates of the Davidians.
Waco: The Rules of Engagement -- which opens at the Valley Art Theatre
on Saturday, April 18, just in time for the conflagration's fifth anniversary
-- makes it all too easy to believe that the agents wanted the Davidians
destroyed. But it's just as easy to believe that David Koresh wanted the
same thing. In any case, though fixing blame may have been the mission
of the filmmakers, the result of their efforts was something more than
mere indictment. It's a nightmare chronicle.
Waco: The Rules of Engagement.
Directed by William Gazecki.
Unrated.
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