It takes director Jennifer Baichwal close to 10 minutes to move from one end to the other of the electronic-parts factory in Fujian, China — the fast-moving camera glides along the floor showing aisles and aisles of yellow-jacketed workers bent over their tasks.
Later, these same workers — hundreds of them — are herded into groups outside the immense factory building (also yellow) where they stand in straight lines stretching as far as the eye can see. What's happening is that they're made to listen to pep talks given by their earnest supervisors, urging them toward better and more efficient productivity. The sight is fascinating and awful, setting the tone for the rest of "Manufactured Landscapes," a chilling but ultimately beautiful documentary on what industrialization is doing to man and the world as we know it. Or used to know it.
The film quietly traces over the contours of the vast, eerie wasteland of recycling plants. Or lingers over the slate-gray sky hanging over the rusting carcass of a tanker. Everywhere, workers assemble e-products (electronic and digital goods) and in the next scene, disassemble e-waste, knee deep in discarded metal that's emitting toxic fumes. In Bangladesh, skinny teenage boys clean oil scum left by decommissioned tankers with no more than sponges and their bare hands. "Manufactured Landscapes" gazes on all this with what can only be described as glacial calm. It doesn't ask for tears or sentiment, but only for the audience to gain a clear-eyed awareness of what's going on, and confront the realization that we're more or less powerless to stop it.