At first glance, acclaimed documentary filmmaker Eugene Jarecki is the perfect person to tell the complex story of WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. He has produced excellent films about complex figures in the past, from 2002’s The Trials of Henry Kissinger to 2011’s Reagan. He has also tackled profound political debates with titles like Freakonomics, (T)error, as well as his compelling analysis of the ramifications of Eisenhower’s farewell address in Why We Fight.
Assange, for his part, is a figure who deserves in-depth analysis, beyond the headlines that portray him as an enemy of the people or a Robin Hood defender of freedom of information. (And several films have already addressed aspects of Assange’s story, from Laura Poitras’s Risk to Ben Lawrence’s Ithaka.)
Director: Eugene Jarecki
Writers: Joe Fletcher, Eugene Jarecki, Zora Schiffer
Stars: Jennifer Robinson, Pamela Anderson, Julian Assange
A carefully crafted film that explicitly delves into Assange’s contradictions would be welcome, especially with the access granted to the subject. Hearing from all involved, both his supporters and detractors, would be a work of great journalistic impact and perhaps even cinematic importance, joining titles like Navalny in illustrating how the right film at the right time can be both cinematically compelling and socially and politically relevant.
But The Six Billion Dollar Man is not Navalny.
The most exasperating thing about the film is that Jarecki clearly must know how deficient it actually is. The director’s opening voiceover speaks of finding a path between the extremes of perception, of seeing the supposed truth beyond the headlines. There are numerous opportunities throughout the documentary to offer a more detailed or nuanced view of the subject, or to explore the inherent ironies of a man famous for facilitating the leaking of information, who then complained that his own rights were violated by similar leaks against him.
All the big questions—why certain leaks were selected that benefited one side over another, why the focus on American hegemony, and why the silence from freedom of information absolutists—go unanswered. There are a few additional interviews that go beyond simple praise, but they come across as even more self-serving in this context. An interview with Nils Melzer, the UN special investigator who testified about Assange's alleged torture conditions in the Ecuadorian embassy apartment and British prison, seems selective at best, given the other anonymous individuals who shared the same space as the protagonist of this film, who travels by private jet. Similarly, Chris Hedges, a New York Times investigative journalist, lends his impeccable journalistic credentials to the story. He supports the argument that Assange is, first and foremost, a publisher, and not a malicious and criminal disseminator of stolen classified information.
We hear from Assange's lawyers, but not from any of those who wanted to prosecute him. We hear from the former president of Ecuador, who granted Assange asylum, but not from his successor, who ultimately collaborated with the British to have him arrested. Only one British Home Secretary provides additional context, and even here Jarecki can't help himself, presenting the dapper man toying with his tea, with a sardonic air more arrogant than revealing, which makes Assange's distant, aristocratic aura seem almost justified.
The film addresses the sexual assault allegations against Assange, but does so firmly from the perspective of his defense, categorically stating that it was only the Swedish government (apparently, and conspiratorially, under pressure from the Americans) that brought the charges against the wishes of the alleged victims. Previous interviews are presented, but there is no follow-up, especially considering how the case ended. [The case was dismissed.]
Similar conspiratorial accusations are made against the late businessman Sheldon Adelson and his casino empire. His close ties to Trump are alleged to have a direct connection to the Spanish company that installed surveillance equipment in the embassy. It's a powerful and compelling accusation, but it's made by an anonymous source. No further context is provided, and it's simply presented as fact that the US is seeking to harm Assange as part of a counteroffensive for the leaked information.
Two things can be true at the same time, of course. It's possible that the United States played a direct role in many of his legal problems. But there are also allegations of Russian collusion between Assange and his associates. (Edward Snowden, who still resides in Moscow, provides new context.) Any accusations against Assange are considered false and baseless.
The most egregious moment occurs at the end of the film, when the same voiceover dismisses any suggestion that the massive leak of diplomatic cables caused no real harm. There is no evidence either way, but given the covert nature of the events, it's impossible to know. According to the film's own logic, which readily embraces conspiracy, there is a clear connection between Assange's assistance to the Trump campaign as a virulent response to Hillary Clinton's actions against him. However, Jarecki's film is so intent on presenting Assange as a crusader and victim that it doesn't even bother to try to uncover the truth behind such closely guarded secrets.
The Six Billion Dollar Man presents itself as a balanced film, but in reality, it's a hagiography of its charismatic protagonist, surely conceived at the time of its production to join the chorus of "Free Assange." The awkward truth is that he is now free, and he was sitting a few rows behind me at the Cannes screening.
Similarly, Jarecki has stated that he didn't want to interview Assange directly after everything that has happened—a patently ridiculous claim, given that 12 months have passed since his release. This is completely contradicted by the fact that Assange was involved enough to attend the Cannes screening, sitting next to his former legal collaborator/now wife, with whom he had two children while in hiding, and a few seats away from the former president in whose embassy he took refuge.
It is now, after his release, that the important questions should be asked and when the real film could be made. Instead, we are left with an ironically insubstantial polemic about a release that has already happened, a cry for justice for a man who admitted his guilt to secure his freedom, backed by the effusive celebration of superfans like Naomi Klein and Pamela Anderson.
Despite Jarecki's prominence and his apparent awareness of the dangers of telling such a story, he has fallen into the trap. In an ideal world, such a mistake wouldn't matter much, but given that much of the current chaos, both in the United States and globally, has been fueled by the selective dissemination of information to destabilize democratic norms, this is no minor matter. The lies that are exposed, as the film attempts to show time and again, are the fault of the liars. However, the lies that remain hidden, the secrets still concealed in the process of selecting winners and losers, are equally pernicious.
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