Filmmakers bend your ears about corn policies

Farmers in the United States planted 93 million acres of corn in 2007, a 39 percent increase over the 67 million acres planted in 1970, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

The proliferation of U.S. corn grabbed the attention of filmmakers Curt Ellis and Ian Cheney and gave them an idea. They would move to Iowa, plant an acre of corn and see what happened.

Their corn-filled journey is the subject of King Corn, a documentary they made in 2004 and 2005. The film was released in 2007 and shown at the RiverRun Film Festival in Winston-Salem. King Corn ($26.95, Docurama Films) just came out on DVD.

Although the filmmakers take a meandering path, their investigation eventually leads viewers down a road that links federal agricultural policy to a cultural dependency on cheap, fast food.

In grandfathers' footsteps

Ellis and Cheney chose Greene, Iowa, because it's where their great-grandfathers once lived.

First, they leased an acre from a local farmer. They filled out paperwork to get a government subsidy of $28 for their acre of corn.

There was some actual work to do, but not much since they rented machines. First, they injected 150 pounds of ammonia into the soil to fertilize it. Second, they planted 31,000 genetically modified corn seeds in 18 minutes. Third, they sprayed herbicide to keep down the weeds. While they waited for the corn to grow, they traveled the country trying to figure out how the corn business works.

They discovered that the commodity corn they were growing is bred for yield. It will likely produce up to 200 bushels in that acre, compared to 40 bushels in their great-grandfathers' day.

They also learned that it is not bred for taste. "Disgusting," "chalk" and "sawdust" are how they describe the taste of their corn. It turns out that about 55 percent of their crop is destined for animal feed, 32 percent for export or ethanol use, and a small portion for such sweeteners as high fructose corn syrup. It doesn't need to taste good since no one's going to eat it off the cob.

A policy of abundance

A central point throughout King Corn is that the United States is producing an incredible amount of corn, and of those 93 million acres planted in 2007, only about 250,000 were for sweet corn, the stuff that's edible right off the cob.

As Michael Pollan, a noted author on U.S. food production, says in the film, the commodity corn common to Iowa is a raw material. "It must be processed before we eat it. The irony is that an Iowa farmer can no longer feed himself (with his own corn)."

Ellis and Cheney trace this situation to Earl Butz, a former secretary of agriculture. In 1973, he changed U.S. food policy. Before, the government regulated production, sometimes paying farmers not to plant certain crops in order to keep prices high and supply in line with demand.

Butz unleashed a flood of corn production by doing the opposite: encouraging farmers to plant as much as possible.

Companies soon found ways to use the extra corn. Cattle, once raised on grasses, could be fattened more cheaply on corn.

Similarly, food manufacturers realized that food could be sweetened a lot more cheaply with high-fructose corn syrup than sugar. (For a reason never explained, the filmmakers don't go into the ethanol issue.)

But the film shows problems with these uses. Corn, not being a natural diet for cattle, causes cows to get sick, as does the close confinement of feedlots. Enter the use of antibiotics to keep them healthy until slaughter.

The filmmakers are also uncomfortable with the use of corn syrup in everything from salad dressings to sodas. They link soda consumption to current problems with obesity and diabetes.

As Ellis says of their experiment, "We didn't realize we were growing an acre of sugar."

When the filmmakers interviewed Butz, he defended his policy of abundance, saying that the resulting low food prices are the basis of our affluence. Ellis and Cheney didn't attempt to refute the statement.

They appear to have mixed feelings about what they learn, saying they feel uncomfortable about selling their corn. "It was Earl Butz' farm program that made our parents' dream of plenty a reality," Cheney says. "We also might be the first generation to live in a time when abundance brings too much."

They do come upon a small solution, though. The end of the film shows them buying the acre they leased. They did not plant commodity corn, sweet corn or any kind of food. Instead, they planted grass.

■ Michael Hastings, the Journal's Food editor, can be contacted by phone at 727-7394, e-mail at mhastings@wsjournal.com, or mail at c/o Winston-Salem Journal, P.O. 3159, Winston-Salem, NC 27102.