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Section: Houston Lifestyle & Features Section: Books Section: Video & DVD Current stories in Entertainment: |
Nov. 11, 2005, 6:19PM CORPORATE RAIDERSFor Yes Men, art imitates lifeFun-loving duo put big business in the cross hairs on serious issuesBy WENDY GROSSMANSpecial To The Chronicle
Perhaps their greatest hit came last year, on the 20th anniversary of the Bhopal, India, gas-leak disaster. Bichlbaum appeared on BBC news as Jude Finisterra, a Dow Chemical representative, and took full responsibility for the industrial accident. He announced that Dow would compensate victims and clean up the site. The BBC ran the interview twice and Dow's stock dropped 3 percent before the hoax was exposed. (Earlier this year, the video was shown as part of DiverseWorks' show Thought Crimes: The Art of Subversion.) Last year, they released a book and documentary film about their exploits — both products, confusingly, titled The Yes Men. On their way to a "supersecret mission" in Texas last week, they contacted Aurora Picture Show and arranged a last-minute screening of the documentary. Like fourth-grade girls planning a prank, they debate who should call the mystery man they've come to Texas to meet. What should they say? Should one of them have an assistant? Should they be colleagues? You would think that they'd be more machinelike, after pulling such pranks for 10 years. That's when Bichlbaum, a former computer programmer, recognized a kindred spirit in Bonanno, who had been part of the famous Barbie Liberation Operation. In Christmas 1989, that group switched the voice boxes of Barbies and G.I. Joes and planted the altered dolls back on store shelves. Kids were shocked when G.I. Joe wanted to go shopping, and Barbie said, "Dead men tell no lies." As the Yes Men, Bichlbaum and Bonanno created fake Web sites for real groups, such as the World Trade Organization. Through those sites, people unwittingly invited them to speak at conferences, or to appear on the TV news. They showed up at those engagements wearing nicely pressed suits that they bought at thrift stores. And in the cool jargon of economists, they said horrifying things — describing, for instance, the fiscal merits of outsourcing slavery, describing a "remote labor system" in which Third World workers assemble Americans' consumer goods for pennies an hour. No one in the audience had them arrested. No one booed. People shook their hands and gave them their cards. "People didn't get the joke," Andy says. They decided they needed to film their work. The little indie film was critically praised, and now they're working on a sequel. Last week, Bichlbaum was in San Francisco posing as a Dow Chemical representative at a nanotechnology conference. He urged companies not to test chemicals before marketing them to the public. And he was thrilled that for once, the audience dared to talk back to him. Tonight, they go into the back corner of the theater and make a mysterious call, arranging to meet someone, somewhere in Texas. After the screening, Bichlbaum stood in front of the theater handcuffed to a black plastic briefcase. As a music-box tune played, the Yes Men took off their hats, held them over their chests and begged for money. "We need hard cash," Bonanno says. They promised that they weren't fugitives or in the Mafia. The case held $700 in unmarked $1 bills. They said they were $300 short. They were funding the super-secret mission. It turns out that a Texas artist had stumbled onto the Yes Men's faux Dow Chemical Web site and applied for a $1,000 grant. They won't reveal who the artist is, or what his medium is, because they don't want to embarrass him. In the movie, they don't plan to show his face. All Bonanno would say about the artist's work is, "It's dark." Before awarding the grant, they required the artist to hang a disclaimer on the gallery wall proclaiming that the artist's work does not reflect directly or indirectly any of Dow's cataclysmic accidents or the health problems that have resulted from their products. "The sad part is, he said, 'OK, I'll do it,' " Bonanno says. "We got ourselves into this bind: He accepted this money despite these stupid conditions." They passed the briefcase around and collected $90. Combined with the evening's $5 admission fee with its DVD and book sales, they left the theater only $11 short. "We'll be making a trip to the bank machine," Bonanno says.
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