CMU recently released a $50,000 film titled “Long May We Live” in partnership with Jhova Productions to celebrate a century of Mavericks. Though, it could have been called “Long May HE Live”, considering how much former university president Tim Foster was featured in the film.
Foster, who served from 2004 to 2017, clearly put a lot of time and effort into the film–research, interviews, coordination – but his perspective was prioritized over nearly all others included in the film. He put an emphasis on the struggle for existence throughout Mesa’s history. It came across as a chip on the school’s shoulder that Foster was determined to highlight.
The school’s colorful history was strung together through headlines from the school’s newspaper, The Criterion, photos of the campus throughout the decades and features on a select number of professors and administrators. Mary Rait, Mesa’s first female vice president, was featured heavily at the outset, as a token of Mesa’s enduring fight for progress.
The basic layout of the documentary was rather pedestrian. Interviews, voice overs and slices of old time-y film rips when moving from one subject to the next. Generic storytelling begets generic production. The saving grace of the film was Mesa’s archivist and historian, Amber D’Ambrosio, whose personality and knowledge was refreshingly featured.
The documentary did spend a good chunk of screentime on the school’s messy relationship with the Ku Klux Klan. It painted Walter Walker as a man that used his power to fight against their interests and control in the state legislature. Spliced news headlines and audio overlay of Foster’s voice telling the tale painted the school as a champion of education and progress in a fight against all odds.
What wasn’t mentioned is that Mesa excluded people of color from the campus until Brown v. Board of Education was passed in 1954, making racial discrimination illegal. It’s not surprising considering how prolific the KKK was on the Western Slope and across the state for the first half of the school’s life. Fruita was a sundown town, after all.
The production was managed by Mesa alums from Jhova Productions. No, they’re not Jehovah’s Witnesses, rather the word has Hebrew and Latin origins, meaning “power, grace and a distinguished identity” according to their website.
Jaden Quan and Harry Fuentes are the creative force behind Jhova and have a well-rounded portfolio. They’ve shot commercials for the shoe brand On, CMU and outdoor gear brand 4×4 Colorado. They have a few other documentaries covering much deeper topics like Grand Junction’s native boarding school and mental illness on the Western Slope.
“Long May We Live” was a far cry from the hard hitting documentaries Jhova has in their portfolio. As a contractor for CMU to produce the documentary, it makes sense that the final product was likely under the creative control of Foster since he is the Chair of the Legacy Project Committee for the school’s 100th Anniversary.
This could explain the film’s predisposition to portray the school as a harrowing underdog that fought against all odds to exist, which from the documentary seems mostly true. The execution was unremarkable, stitching together photographs from the school and b-roll from whatever era was being referenced. At best it seemed arbitrary – a 10 second clip of bright flashing light that potentially should have come with a warning was slapped into the middle of the film.
Some clips were 3D renderings of old photos to bring them to life, however it made them look AI-generated, with a glossy, uncanny valley effect to them. This might not have been so cringe-worthy if the introduction presentation at the CMU Century Kickoff Event didn’t have AI-generated imagery plastered all over a massive screen.
Current CMU President John Marshall thanked the marketing department for getting AI to put a mustache on him in a photo meant to look like it was from the 1920s. Another photo of Associated Student Government (ASG) President Leilani Domingo made her look white, and fat, to put it plainly. She must have been seeing it for the first time when she was on stage, because she audibly gasped and recoiled at the sight of it.
What was most striking, was what was missing from the documentary. It was shocking that there was no mention of the foundational, essential element for an institution of higher learning–education. No, in fact, the only meaningful mention was during Mary Rait’s feature in which one interviewee remembered her as being really “tough” on her students.
There was nothing about grades, the allure of good programs, research, the prestige of teachers – nothing. The school made a point to talk about the connection with the City of Grand Junction but only in what the city has done for it, not in what CMU has given back to the community, which according to the documentary would be nothing.
Perhaps it doesn’t fit the branding to acknowledge that Mesa has become a degree factory for rich kids from Denver whose parents are looking to save a buck. From the story told in the documentary, the school’s history cares more about appearing to struggle in the face of adversity while selling degrees to anyone that can sign the dotted line.
