Sabrina M. Chiefari is a Catholic Environmental Educator from Tkaronto/Toronto. As Integral Ecology Specialist for the Sisters of St. Joseph of Toronto, she is a long-time proponent of Deep Ecology and Integral Ecology.

A contrasting reality of this summer has been blockbuster movies playing in theaters while, at the same, writers and actors in the US unions have been on strike. Not only that but, perhaps as a result of prolonged COVID 19 lockdowns, more than a few of these large-budget movies deal with themes of peace and social justice.

Longer reviews and deep-delving op-eds are widely available elsewhere but, nonetheless, we invite you to consider the following regarding the films The Sound of Freedom and Oppenheimer.

Who wrote the stories?

Both films are based on true stories though Oppenheimer’s screenplay is adapted from the book “American Prometheus”. So while they are making the effort at retelling real events, it’s easy to see that broad creative liberties are taken.

The writers are each sharing a story rather than cold historical fact and, frankly, it’s in creative storytelling when we humans experience empathy, catharsis, comprehension, and thought provocation. What do we learn, though, if embellishment takes priority in the storytelling of a true event?

Who benefits from the stories?

One would hope that, beyond box office earnings, the sharing of these complicated stories, Oppenheimer (the dawning of the atomic age) and The Sound of Freedom (human trafficking), creates meaningful dialogue. Particularly if one styles itself as a movie to “raise awareness”, one would hope that it draws the audiences to campaigns or actions to address the issue(s) at hand.

In the case of something like Oppenheimer, an historical event that took place more than 70 years ago, it’s up to the individual to ask themselves how they wish to benefit. And it is fair if the answer to that is simply entertainment. I watched it with a curiosity of how peace and nonviolent conflict resolution may have been framed. After all, earlier this year, the “Doomsday Clock” moved closer to midnight with war in Ukraine being one of many ongoing violent conflicts.

While no specific peace-oriented dialogue appeared in the movie, many characters express conflict in developing a weapon of that scale, but feared more what might occur if such a weapon became available to the Nazis.

The Sound of Freedom purports to be a film to raise awareness on the social justice issue of human trafficking. But the film is premised on the notion that human trafficking is hidden and unknown. The long-standing work of anti-human trafficking groups across the globe says otherwise. Furthermore, the only “action” the filmmakers offer is to purchase a ticket for someone else to see it. The absence of more direct advocacy options, that address root causes and provide direct support to those who are exploited, make this a questionable appeal to audiences. It remains to be seen whether trafficked people will benefit from this movie.

Who is missing from the stories?

A recent social media comment on Oppenheimer by Cree advocate Clayton Thomas-Müller caught my attention, criticizing the film for leaving out the experiences of Japanese and North American Indigenous Peoples during the movie’s historical period. I respectfully disagree with that assertion, though I do see his point.

The movie is based on a biography of Robert J. Oppenheimer so the story, accordingly, centres on what is assumed as his perspective.

However, given all the resources that went into this and countless other WWII Hollywood blockbusters, why can’t future tellings incorporate the voices of all players on the world’s stage at that time? How might a story like that, with range to see all the pain and grief involved in that scale of warfare by all who experienced it, inform our discussions around peace and non-violent conflict resolution?

Just as multifaceted are social justice issues and today’s crimes of human trafficking, often labeled as “modern day slavery”.

And while the rescue efforts made by Tim Ballard in real life are extraordinary, this movie fails to go beyond the narrative of a “white, male, Christian saviour”. This film’s choice to reinforce dated storytelling tropes (such as the helpless victims of Colour or the solely courageous American on the proverbial white horse) is a disservice to the issue it hopes to raise awareness about.

Are we really finding new ways of understanding if we keep telling different stories in the same way?