"The House I Live In" is a frustrating film to watch. This is because the first 75% or so of the film has a lot of great content and the film makes its point. Too bad they didn't STOP the film, as the last 25% actually will alienate many people who agree with the film's initial message.When the film begins, it presents a very convincing argument that the American government's so-called war on drugs is a complete failure. Important facts such as the nation leading the world in incarceration rates, the predominance of poor minorities serving time for drug possession and the violence associated with drugs are all very, very compelling arguments to say that what we are doing currently is not working. Then, instead of presenting a great argument for legalization or partial legalization, the film goes off on an argument about class warfare (sounding rather Marxist) and drawing parallels to the drug war with the holocaust (and when you start comparing ANYONE to the Nazis, then you've lost the legitimacy of the argument--which is often referred to as 'Godwin's Law'). The bottom line is that the film didn't know when to quit when it had presented a great argument. Its final overall argument is one that would alienate many libertarians and conservatives (folks who you might be able to convince that we should abandon this war on drugs and its disproportionate effect on the poor) and appeal more to a socialist and far-left crowd.While I DO agree that poor people get a bad shake and serve far, far more time than rich folks who can afford better lawyers and gain more sympathy from juries, resorting to the class warfare argument will appeal to many and alienate just about as many. And reserve the term 'Holocaust' for the Holocaust!!Overall ratings: For the first 75%--9; For the last 25%--2

In 40 years, of America's 'war on drugs', more than 45 million arrests have been made. The approach has made the United States the world's largest jailer with almost 2.3 million individuals incarcerated. This means that the USA has the highest documented incarceration rate in the world with about 1% of all adults in jail. African Americans comprise less than 14% of the US population but almost 40% of those in prison. Hispanic Americans comprise just over 16% of the US population but around 20% of those in prison. African American males are jailed at about six times the rate of white males and three times the rate of Hispanic males.Against this background, Eugene Jarecki has written, produced and directed this striking documentary examining the impact of the war on drugs in America. Starting with the black woman who was his childhood nanny, he interviews an eclectic cast of characters with different experiences of the problem: the drug dealer, the policeman, the judge, the prison guard, the life prisoner with no chance of parole, and – most eloquent of all – the creator of the television series "The Wire".Until recently, the drug problem has been seen by many Americans as a black and brown issue and the strong emphasis on enforcement measures, with a growing use of mandatory minimum sentences, has led to a swollen ethnic prison population that, for many whites, has swept the problem off the streets and out of sight. But the availability of different drugs and the loss of manufacturing jobs has led to more white, working class men being caught up in this destruction of both personalities and communities. So, at its core, this is not an issue of ethnicity but one of poverty.The film argues that the policies of the last four decades have failed and need to be fundamentally rethought. Drug use should be considered as less an issue of criminal justice and more a matter of public health. Many drug users are not evil or selfish but victims of poverty and deprivation who are trying to find some income where there is little employment and some solace when life is so miserable.This is a stunning documentary that raises profound issues – and not just for Americans. It will not be an easy film to see at the cinema, so catch it on television (as I did) or buy or rent it.

If you've been a student of most public schools you've learned about slavery.There's a lyric I remember that says "I hate it when they tell us how far we came to be - as if our peoples' history started with slavery." Well, the history of subjugating minorities has not ENDED with slavery either, and retrospective condemnation of racism serves the purpose to perpetuate the racism embedded and invested in our country today. The most important mistake is to confuse failure with success in regards to the apparent shortcomings of our establishment. I again use the example of public schools because the recent documentary "Waiting for Superman" did a fantastic job in addressing the "failures" of schools to educate children. It takes a book like James Lowen's Lies My Teacher Told Me to recognize the grand success of our school's indoctrination process: to teach obedience, not intelligence. It takes a documentary like The House I Live In to vocalize the airtight success of our administration in conducting the 41 years' drug war. Logic should compute. If more money has been spent (a trillion dollars since the '70s,) the prison population has skyrocketed (2.4 million people incarcerated) and no progress has been made in keeping drugs off the streets, (similarly with our schools, with reform after reform we continue to perform beneath the feet of most industrialized countries,) you have to start looking at things a little differently. It is hard to see the exit of the maze when walking within its walls. This documentary helps to see things from the outside. This film brings to light a lot of revealing facts that have been swept under the rug, like how opium wasn't an issue until Chinese started climbing the success latter in San Francisco, or how the police in border states can directly siphon the money from drug busts to reward their outfit. Mostly, it encourages a comparison between the way minorities have been apprehended with drug abuse and the apprehension of whites (who hold equal if not higher drug abuse statistics but make up a minority of the prison population.) And it encourages comparison between past, mass scale subjugation (often with eventual extermination) and, to quote the film, the slow-motion holocaust happening in our own country. It recognizes the drug epidemic as an economic issue and a medical issue, not a racial issue. It recognizes the drug WAR as the glaring rash of vibrant racism, and the brutal front of a class war in a society where profits come first, human beings second. More to this point, it eludes to the country's prime motivation, net gain and increased GDP, and the plethora of companies from Sprint Mobile to GM to privatized prisons such as CCA, all of whom depend on the drug war to maintain stock value. To quote ousted investigative journalist and ex-LAPD narcotics officer Michael Ruppert, "A snake eating its own tail is not nutritious." Though it is outside the periphery of the film's focus and beyond the pale even for a documentary of this substance, the issue of international drug trafficking, and facilitation it has received, at times, from both the financial sector and intelligence agency of our country, was never brought to light in this film. Despite whether this topic is to be written off as conspiracy theory or submitted for further analysis, a film that introduces our economy's dependence on drug dependence and the targeting of minorities in an everlasting drug war, has a duty to at least address the controversy. I suggest raising the question on discussion boards and at Q&As, as my screening was lucky enough to have. We live in a country that is infested with racism, now as much as any other time. Our economy depends on it, and the drug war has fertilized it. It is time to end it.

The House I Live In is a very informative work of advocacy that's only thinly masquerading as a documentary. It's a more reformed, nuanced version of a Michael Moore piece that has a clear point of advocacy aimed squarely at whatever practical center still exists. It doesn't hit you over the head with a message or misleading facts but squarely lets you arrive at the conclusion that the drug war has failed. It's not an anti-corporate rant with a clear villain to rally against. I left thinking that there was enough material and story there to easily fill a mini-series or a Ken Burns style documentary without getting preachy or creating fatigue.It has enlightening and entertaining moments, but there are many flaws in the storytelling. Many characters are introduced, many of which with too much or not enough background, and seem to float around their promised purpose without really landing at a point or purpose. (Given the ending theme of the work, perhaps this is intentional.)David Simon's incredibly powerful monologues bring a saving grace to moments in the film that tend to struggle, especially moments where the director awkwardly inserts himself into the film.Unlike a lot of similar works, you could probably take your Republican parents to see it without the evening being automatically ruined. Unlike almost every other advocacy piece I've seen, it achieves its goal of starting a conversation, rather than ending one.