Filmmaker Anthony Banua-Simon takes a distinctly personal approach in his documentary about the Hawaiian island of Kauai, where his family has lived for four generations. While Banua-Simon was growing up in Seattle, he visited relatives on the island and watched many of the 100+ movies and TV shows, like Fantasy Island, filmed on Kauai.
He starts by profiling his great grandfather, Alberto, a sugar cane worker, and union organizer. In Lois Weber's 1934 White Heat, aka Cane Fire, one film he hasn't been able to watch in its entirety, Alberto appeared as an extra. Weber's last film and first sound effort has only survived by way of stills. Even in its era, censors forbid her from including the climactic sequence in which a female worker burns a plantation to the ground, for fear that it might inspire other overworked and underpaid workers.
Since that time, tourism has replaced agriculture as Kauai's primary industry. Now retired, Banua-Simon's great uncle, Henry, used to drive trucks for sugar mills and pineapple canneries. In his day, the so-called Big Five oversaw all of the plantations. Though the companies would diversify into other fields, like shipping, they still control most of the land, a system that has alienated native islanders from their cultural traditions and tied them to an economic structure that favors landowners.
To quell union organizing, the Big Five would pit ethnic groups against each other. While Alberto immigrated from the Philippines, others came from China and Japan. Human rights abuses were not uncommon, and yet Hollywood presented the plantations as pleasant workplaces. The director speaks with union leaders, like Alfredo Castillo, who tell a different story. The efforts of the International Longshore and Warehouse Union would lead to better working conditions, though movies, like 1952's Big Jim McLain with John Wayne, would depict union organizers as communists with unreasonable demands.
As the Big Five sought greater profits, they moved their operations abroad to take advantage of cheaper labor. Banua-Simon also speaks with realtors catering to wealthy vacationers and activists attempting to claim the abandoned Coco Palms Resort for native islanders, most of whom can't afford to own houses, like the director's younger cousins, who work in the service industry. Though they dream of home ownership, they know it's mostly a pipe dream. Even non-profits, like Habitat for Humanity, which helps to build houses for families who couldn't otherwise afford them, can only do so much to improve the situation.
Nowadays, Kauai's cost of living, from produce to housing, ranks among the highest in the nation. Though Banua-Simon presents union members and activists as forces for good, they lack the numbers and resources to make a lasting difference. Consequently, Cane Fire splits the difference between enlightening and dispiriting, though the entertaining movie clips and evocative score from British guitarist and slack-key scholar Mike Cooper help the medicine go down a little easier. Recommended for collections involving social and political issues, labor relations, and Hawaiian history.
Can this film be used in a library education program?
Cane Fire would be a fine choice for library education programs about Pacific Island cultures.
What ages would this documentary be suitable for?
Cane Fire is suitable for adults and older teens due to the complexity of the subject matter.
Why should an academic librarian or professor request Public Performance Rights for this film?
The use of movie clips and vintage commercials provides ease of entry into difficult topics, making for an appealing resource for the study of race and income inequality. Professors of American history and politics may find Cane Fire particularly valuable.