Journalist Ben Anderson has been to some of the most dangerous and unstable places in the world, documenting wars, gang activity, pollution, and social politics. Libya, Cuba, North Korea, Afghanistan, Brazil, El Salvador, you name it––these places are the stuff of any VBS.tv junkie's dreams. (Ben is also somewhat of a Vice regular.)
In February of last year, without any funding or insurance, he made his way to Afghanistan to eat, sleep, and do like a Marine––all to capture the key US battle for Marjah, a dusty city that was home to Taliban commanders, a huge opium bazaar, and thousands of explosive devices. The mission? Clear out the Taliban, build a government and an infrastructure, and transfer control to Afghan forces. In his film Battle for Marjah, Ben shows that it's far easier said than done. I talked to him about what in the world it's like to be caught in a crossfire, take orders from stoned 12-year-olds armed with AK-47s, and more.
Sofia Cavallo: We hear you were a skater back in the day. Did you always want to be a journalist/filmmaker?
Ben Anderson: I actually wanted to be a writer. When I was about 22, and struggling to get any work as one, I got the chance to make a documentary about the funeral trade. I had to spend six months undercover, secretly filming all the scams and bad behavior that go on. I soon came to see making documentaries as a way to get to see the world, which is what I'd wanted to do with writing. There seemed to be so many criminal, brutal, and unnecessary things that only happened because most of us were ignorant of them, and I wanted to cover them, or just see them for myself. In the end, when I wrote up this film, I got a book deal. So I actually became a writer after all.
I think skateboarding helped. For me skating was about being creative with almost nothing. We could spend hours working out new tricks on a curb, and the possibilities never ceased to amaze me. And I got to see all kinds of places that I'd never have seen without skateboarding––street life, places late at night––surrounded by all kinds of action.
SC: After everything you've seen, you must have a million and one stories of being in hot water.
BA: Getting arrested by the religious Police in Iran was rough. They were sure I was a spy and tried to get me to confess to it for a week. It was mostly psychological, but they had me thinking I could be there for months, and get tortured and executed. Spending a few days with the LURD rebels in Liberia was a shock. You had to obey stoned and drunk 12-year-olds at checkpoints. They had AK's and RPGs that were taller than they were. It's so depressing to see children doing that, having that much power, and enjoying it too. Awful.
My first foreign film in a dangerous place involved sneaking past military posts in Burma to get to the Shan state Army, an ethnic rebel group. Their leader was once the biggest opium dealer in the world. When he turned up in a jeep with a bunch of armed guards and challenged me to a game of Badminton––right there in the jungle ("Burma vs. England")––I knew I wanted to spend my life travelling to the world's so-called worst places. (Actually the worse a place's reputation is, the friendlier the people seem to be.)
There have been some good times too––meeting a wild 650-pound silverback gorilla in Congo. I had to make eye contact with him and then bow my head to let him know h
In February of last year, without any funding or insurance, he made his way to Afghanistan to eat, sleep, and do like a Marine––all to capture the key US battle for Marjah, a dusty city that was home to Taliban commanders, a huge opium bazaar, and thousands of explosive devices. The mission? Clear out the Taliban, build a government and an infrastructure, and transfer control to Afghan forces. In his film Battle for Marjah, Ben shows that it's far easier said than done. I talked to him about what in the world it's like to be caught in a crossfire, take orders from stoned 12-year-olds armed with AK-47s, and more.
Sofia Cavallo: We hear you were a skater back in the day. Did you always want to be a journalist/filmmaker?
Ben Anderson: I actually wanted to be a writer. When I was about 22, and struggling to get any work as one, I got the chance to make a documentary about the funeral trade. I had to spend six months undercover, secretly filming all the scams and bad behavior that go on. I soon came to see making documentaries as a way to get to see the world, which is what I'd wanted to do with writing. There seemed to be so many criminal, brutal, and unnecessary things that only happened because most of us were ignorant of them, and I wanted to cover them, or just see them for myself. In the end, when I wrote up this film, I got a book deal. So I actually became a writer after all.
I think skateboarding helped. For me skating was about being creative with almost nothing. We could spend hours working out new tricks on a curb, and the possibilities never ceased to amaze me. And I got to see all kinds of places that I'd never have seen without skateboarding––street life, places late at night––surrounded by all kinds of action.
SC: After everything you've seen, you must have a million and one stories of being in hot water.
BA: Getting arrested by the religious Police in Iran was rough. They were sure I was a spy and tried to get me to confess to it for a week. It was mostly psychological, but they had me thinking I could be there for months, and get tortured and executed. Spending a few days with the LURD rebels in Liberia was a shock. You had to obey stoned and drunk 12-year-olds at checkpoints. They had AK's and RPGs that were taller than they were. It's so depressing to see children doing that, having that much power, and enjoying it too. Awful.
My first foreign film in a dangerous place involved sneaking past military posts in Burma to get to the Shan state Army, an ethnic rebel group. Their leader was once the biggest opium dealer in the world. When he turned up in a jeep with a bunch of armed guards and challenged me to a game of Badminton––right there in the jungle ("Burma vs. England")––I knew I wanted to spend my life travelling to the world's so-called worst places. (Actually the worse a place's reputation is, the friendlier the people seem to be.)
There have been some good times too––meeting a wild 650-pound silverback gorilla in Congo. I had to make eye contact with him and then bow my head to let him know h