How to Blow Up a Pipeline

How to Blow Up a Pipeline is a tense thriller centered around a group of environmental activists who turn to an act of terrorism in an attempt to take action on the climate catastrophe. They come from various walks of life, and have different reasons for getting involved in such a radical plan. But all of them agree that neither society nor individuals are doing enough quickly, and only a radical action with immediate and measurable financial impact is meaningful any more.

The movie wastes no time getting started, only using a few early scenes to establish a countdown to some unnamed event just over two days, and scan through our cast. We get a sense of who these people are, at least at a basic level, although what drove them to this and what the specific plan is remain unknown. Of course, the audience assumes it has something to do with the titular pipeline. And they’re right.

But we’re right in it, riding along with them from their various homes to West Texas, as they establish a base at an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, and start prepping materials and mixing chemicals.

The film is pretty straightforward as thrillers go, although it does a good job breaking up the narrative with flashbacks. I know, flashbacks cause some people to roll their eyes, and fair enough. But Goldhaber is doing something more engaging here. Not only do we get a lot more context on these characters to compliment what we’re been learning as they interact. We also get how the idea came about, how everyone connected, and what the details of the plan are, including everyone’s roles. The flashbacks tell their own story, a prequel to what we’re watching. They tend to pop in at impactful moments, both explaining how the person at the center of this scene came to be here, and admittedly manufacturing some suspense. And yet the editing does a marvelous job of making it immediately clear when we’re jumping time.

What really makes Pipeline standout, though, is how confrontational it is. I mean, how could it not be, with a title like that? It doesn’t waste time trying to make the case that climate change is an issue, and action is needed to save humanity. It’s not interested even in convincing you that we’re not doing enough as a society. All of that is plainly obvious to anyone who’s paying attention, thinking about the increase in extreme weather events, and listening to scientists. In 2023, if you doubt that climate change is an existential threat to humanity, this movie has no time for you.

No, it seems more directed at those who think incremental solutions are enough at this point. Sure, there are a few characters who argue terrorism isn’t the answer, but their arguments aren’t given much weight or thought. If this film is to be a dialog about how best to address the issue, then it would need to dig more into some of the issues and impacts of such extreme action. Instead, it pays them lip service, but each time shoots them down as acceptable losses. So I’m not sure it does want to be a dialog; it wants to start one by directly stating which side it’s on. The confidence of those advocating for damaging the pipeline, even as they acknowledge it won’t on its own solve the problem, is far more convincing than those don’t. There are no full characters who are actually opposed, just background players who only have a line or two. The drama comes primarily from the tension of executing such a high risk plan, and protecting it from outsiders. So while a movie doesn’t necessarily condone whatever it’s about, it feels like this one does.

And personally, whatever your thoughts on that message, I appreciate that. Movies as escapist entertainment or with some message are all well and good. But movies which take a strong, controversial stance are important and underrated. The force you to think about the topic, to really wrestle with it and form your own thoughts. To try to put yourself in the shoes of the characters and understand their perspective. For that reason, I do wish it addressed the repercussions a bit more, as focusing in on them can provide a simpler rebuttal to the film. But even as such, the conviction on display is hard to ignore. And that the filmmakers felt strongly enough to turn a nonfiction book into a narrative film. Clearly, they think its message is important and should be spread to a wider audience.

One last thing to address: that stupid, snarky Rolling Stone article. It would appear the FBI issued warnings that the movie could inspire terrorist attacks on critical infrastructure. To Rolling Stone (and a bunch of online commenters), this is comedic. Which I find incredibly frustrating. We talk often about the power of art, the importance of it. Its ability to bring comfort, to expose you to new ideas, to speak truth to power. We focus on the messages certain films espouse, and denigrate those that are messed up, because they have a real impact on the world. Being able to recognize yourself on screen is important, and helps people feel they have power. And more and more I’ve seen people talk about Hollywood’s worship of guns as damaging and normalizing, including concerning the recent John Wick: Chapter 4.

It can’t be both ways. Either art is just for entertainment and has no bearing on reality, or it matters and can impact the world, in good and bad ways. To try to claim it’s important until people in power take it seriously is nonsense. Why do you think authoritarian governments restrict art? Why do you think artists create? Because they know art has the power to influence people, and they’re scared that will be wielded against them. It’s not mind control; no art can make anyone do anything. Nor will it lead to immediate change. The article’s comment that there haven’t been any pipeline attacks yet is specious, and not just because the film only went “wide” a week ago (just 142 theaters so far). But it can change minds and give people the push they need to adjust their lives or get involved in activist causes. It can cause people to see such acts in a more sympathetic and understanding and more rational light. It can inspire people, and cause lasting change.

To be clear, this isn’t to say movies like this shouldn’t be made; to the contrary, I think they’re extremely important. You don’t have to like it, they can scare you, they may repel or repulse you, that’s fine. Art is intended to elicit a reaction, even if it’s disgust. If the government tried to restrict its distribution, either directly or through intimidation, or if any of the cast or crew were harassed by the feds over this film, then there’s a cause for concern. Because in a society which prizes free speech, that must include provocative speech. But for the government to take a strong statement like this seriously is perfectly reasonable, even though it’s unlikely to cause an immediate increase in threat levels.

Maybe I’m naive, but I’d like to think movies still do have the power to change the world. It might not be the most effective or efficient, but I believe they can change hearts and minds. They did in the past; the second birth of the KKK is largely attributed to The Birth of a Nation, and people’s irrational fear of sharks was largely caused by Jaws. Obviously, culture has changed a ton since then, so maybe those examples aren’t super relevant. But just ten years ago, Blackfish lead to Sea World losing millions of dollars and ending its orca shows, and laws being passed against keeping orcas in captivity.

So if you would laugh at governments taking the influence of cinema seriously, all I can say is that I hope you someday grow to respect film and appreciate its true power.