In post-industrial Ohio, a Chinese billionaire opens a new factory in the husk of an abandoned General Motors plant. Early days of hope and optimism give way to setbacks as high-tech China clashes with working-class America.
It’s too bad that the documentary American Factory will be largely seen on Netflix rather than in theaters, since it would benefit from a responsive, maybe even raucous audience — both to chortle at the culture-clash comedy and gasp as one, in a shared sense of helplessness. Even when viewed on a laptop, though, it’s a great, expansive, deeply humanist work, angry but empathetic to its core. It gestures toward the end of the working world we know — and to the rise of the machines.
How did the directors, Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert, get such intimate access to both sides of the story? On the one hand there are the American workers of Dayton, Ohio’s Fuyao auto-glass factory, which takes over a GM plant that shut down in 2008, throwing 20,000 people out of work (and in many cases out of their homes).
On the other are Fujianese Chinese overlords who are ramping up their American investments and hope to build a factory as “happy” (a slippery concept) and as profitable as its Asian counterparts.
Each group will make sacrifices. One American says that when the GM plant closed, she was making over $29 an hour, while Fuyao is paying — wait for it — $12.84. (Goodbye, middle class — and new shoes for her kids.) But in some ways the Chinese (the bosses and several hundred imported workers) have a bigger adjustment to make. They are required to attend classes to understand Americans, who, unlike the Chinese, “say what they are thinking directly. They are very obvious.” The Chinese learn the U.S. is a very casual place: “You can even joke about the president.” But their output is pathetic. American workers, the Chinese managers observe, are “pretty slow. They have fat fingers.”
It’s too bad that the documentary American Factory will be largely seen on Netflix rather than in theaters, since it would benefit from a responsive, maybe even raucous audience — both to chortle at the culture-clash comedy and gasp as one, in a shared sense of helplessness. Even when viewed on a laptop, though, it’s a great, expansive, deeply humanist work, angry but empathetic to its core. It gestures toward the end of the working world we know — and to the rise of the machines.
How did the directors, Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert, get such intimate access to both sides of the story? On the one hand there are the American workers of Dayton, Ohio’s Fuyao auto-glass factory, which takes over a GM plant that shut down in 2008, throwing 20,000 people out of work (and in many cases out of their homes).
On the other are Fujianese Chinese overlords who are ramping up their American investments and hope to build a factory as “happy” (a slippery concept) and as profitable as its Asian counterparts.
Each group will make sacrifices. One American says that when the GM plant closed, she was making over $29 an hour, while Fuyao is paying — wait for it — $12.84. (Goodbye, middle class — and new shoes for her kids.) But in some ways the Chinese (the bosses and several hundred imported workers) have a bigger adjustment to make. They are required to attend classes to understand Americans, who, unlike the Chinese, “say what they are thinking directly. They are very obvious.” The Chinese learn the U.S. is a very casual place: “You can even joke about the president.” But their output is pathetic. American workers, the Chinese managers observe, are “pretty slow. They have fat fingers.”