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"Europe is literally the creation of the Third World. The wealth which smothers her is that which was stolen from the underdeveloped peoples."

The are some haunting images here, and I mean beyond seeing the victims of bombing and other atrocities. The shanty towns of Zimbabwe (then Rhodesia) juxtaposed with the country clubs of white people, for example. I also agree with rising up against colonial oppression, using force if necessary, and Frantz Fanon makes compelling, passionate arguments for that as well as reparations for centuries of plundering. But while the broad picture was painted, I was held back from loving this film entirely because it felt a little superficial as a documentary. The giant words put up on the screen while Lauryn Hill read them didn't help. I also felt like it could have given a more complete picture had it been updated to the state of things in 2014, when the documentary was made. Instead, we hear the words Fanon wrote in 1961 set to images from the 1960's through the 1980's.

With that said, there are so many damning moments over the nine segments of the documentary, including:

• The interview with Tonderai Makoni of Rhodesia/Zimbabwe in 1970, after he had been imprisoned for five years, where he speaks of institutionalized racism and torture, followed by an interview with a white settler expressing indignance over black people wanting to own cars and houses. He also believes colonists have a better chance in South Africa, where the Native to Colonist ratio is 4 to 1, than in Rhodesia, where it's 34 to 1.

• The interview with Robert Mugabe before he became president of Zimbabwe, who says altruistically that privileges based on color will no longer exist, and society will be integrated. Here I would have been more impressed had the film given us up an update on Mugabe's 37 year corrupt dictatorship that committed its own atrocities.

• In response to workers striking in Liberia in 1966, the Swedish-American mining company LAMCO in cahoots with President William Tubman getting leaders jailed and threatening workers with weapons. The images of Robert Jackson and his family being driven out into the middle of nowhere with all of their possessions after he's been fired for leading the union are devastating.

• The white missionary couple in Tanzania that had been there since 1952 answering questions blithely while black workers toiled away in the background. They state that building the church is more important than building schools or hospitals. They degrade native customs and are like deer in the headlights when asked whether or not the values they preach, like monogamy, are based more in European culture than the Bible. It's clear that they view the natives as having no redeeming values in their customs and beliefs.

• The guerrillas in Mozambique in 1972 who say they asked for liberation from the Portuguese peacefully, but were laughed at and massacred, the planes provided by NATO terrorizing them with napalm. Aside from disturbing images of a girl, crying baby, and nursing mother with limbs blown off, it's clear that the Portuguese committed war crimes by deliberately destroying crops, houses, schools, and hospitals.

• The interview with Amilcar Cabral, pushing for independence in Guinea-Bissau after 500 years of Portuguese subjugation. Here we see Portuguese wounded but there is very little of the context given, before or afterwards, e.g. That Cabral was assassinated, that independence was attained, but that since then the country has been mired in instability and poverty. (Though I'm certainly not pointing this out as a defense of colonialism.)

• The interview with Thomas Sankara, President of Burkina Faso, in 1987, when he explained the rejection of food aid from the IMF because it created a "beggar mentality." We are informed that five months later, he was killed in a coup with the aid of France and America, but nothing else of what's happened there over the last four decades.

Sartre had it right, Fanon's text is a justification of violence in reaction to violence, and a requirement to "decolonize" the various nations of Africa. I think in general it's true, as those in power very seldom relinquish it voluntarily. I would have been impressed if the film had addressed the cases where non-violent movements have worked, however, like Gandhi's in India. And as a last note, I have to say, there was absolutely no good reason for the documentary to include the cows being brutally shot from helicopters by the rebels in Angola, with a close up of blood pouring out of one's nose. Overall, it is a compelling window into colonialism and the writing of Frantz Fanon though.

The fifteen minutes that Zora Neale Hurston captures of a church service really puts you into the congregation, and it's not an issue at all that the audio isn't synchronized, because you certainly get the feeling of being there. We get musical performances with guitar and drums, a preacher putting energy into his performance, and people being moved by the power of their faith. The reason for the lack of synchronization - that the church had no electricity - is telling in its own right. Hurston was quite a field worker when it came to cultural and anthropological work, and if you're looking for a little window into the culture, this will be for you. While I didn't find it as riveting as others, it was worth seeing.

In the Afterword to Hurston's book Tell My Horse about voodoo culture in Haiti and Jamaica, Henry Louis Gates, Jr. Describes Alice Walker's attempts to find Hurston's unmarked grave in a segregated cemetery, a story which was published in 1975. Hurston had died poor and was largely forgotten as an author, and the idea of Walker wading through waste-high weeds in a snake-infested cemetery to try to find her grave is moving to me. That's the kind of thing that makes me even happier to know this little film is preserved.

The three minutes we see of rural life amongst an African American logging community in the south is pretty limited, but it was fascinating to think that this was among Zora Neale Hurston's trips to collect folk tales, and more importantly, to interview the last surviving African brought over in the last slave ship to America, which was the Clotilda in 1860. (I highly recommend the book Barracoon that came from it, which will put you right on the porch with the 86 year old Kossola (Cudjo Lewis), listening to him tell his life story.) Oh, if only that had been captured on film! But it was nice to hear Hurston's voice, singing a couple of songs, while looking back at workers, all now long gone.