You Don't Like the Truth is a meticulous documentary in which Quebec filmmakers Luc Côté and Patricio Henriquez analyze the interrogation of Omar Khadr by CSIS officers in Guantanamo. A Canadian citizen, Khadr was accused of killing an American soldier in Afghanistan in 2002 when he was 15 years old.
The previously classified video footage, which was ordered released by the Canadian Supreme Court, is viewed from a number of angles. The filmmakers speak with lawyers, military people, a United Nations official, a psychiatrist, as well as men who were imprisoned with Khadr.
The Khadr case is controversial, and You Don't Like the Truth is not trying to verify what happened on that day in 2002. But the film makes three things very clear. First, that torture makes people talk, but it doesn't necessarily make them tell the truth. (Having been tortured in Bagram prison, Khadr seems conditioned to tell interrogators what he thinks they want to hear.)
Secondly, that Guantanamo is "a legal black hole," as one British jurist puts it.
And, finally, that Khadr was a child in 2002. (One of his most unlikely defenders is a former American army intelligence officer who earned the nickname The Monster for the abuses he committed at Bagram prison. "Omar was 15 years old," he says." You look at your own kid, and that's what he was.") Thoughtful, even-handed and carefully constructed, this film is all the more harrowing for its quietness.
In the Name of the Family has some problems as a film - particularly its reliance on sinister, slow-motion "reconstructions" - but this is an emotional and urgent investigation into so-called "honour killings."
Starting with the death of Aksa Parvez, a Mississauga teen who was murdered by her father and brother, Toronto-based filmmaker Shelley Saywell moves outward to look at a young Afghanistan-born woman in New York and two Egyptian-American sisters in Texas.
Saywell is careful to make clear that honour killings are not sanctioned by the Koran, but she does examine the cultural clashes in these particular immigrant families, in which Old World fathers and brothers, unable to relinquish the belief that they have a God-given right to control their daughters and sisters, become increasingly enraged when they see these young women growing up with North American expectations of individual freedom.
Saywell gives this issue a human face by gaining intimate access to friends and family members of these girls. Other sources, who might give the stories a larger context, make frustratingly brief appearances.