Dignitaries and punk rockers rubbed elbows Wednesday night, packing the AFI Theatre and Cultural Center in Silver Spring for the D.C. premiere of a documentary on landmines by local filmmakers Mary Wareham and Brian Liu. With a soundtrack by Fugazi's Brendan Canty and an art rock aesthetic, Wareham and Liu gave a complex and often alarming look at the global movement to end the use of landmines that was both informative and visually stunning.

First used extensively in World War II, inter-personnel landmines became a standard feature of war in conflicts throughout the world during the latter half of the twentieth century. But while armies pack up and go home when the war ends, taking their weapons with them, landmines can remain for decades, wreaking havoc on villagers long after the conflict is over. Despite huge efforts to de-mine former war zones, 15,000 to 20,000 people still die worldwide each year and many more are injured, often losing limbs. In 1997, world leaders came together in Ottawa to propose a global ban on landmines. While 151 countries have signed the treaty since that time, 43 countries have yet to do so, including the United States, China, Iran, Pakistan and India.

Using the Ottawa treaty as a starting point, Disarm explores the political and personal impacts of landmines, both in countries attempting to disarm and those where landmines are still actively used. Liu and Wareham attempt to give a comprehensive picture, interviewing everyone from diplomats to victims to disarmers. Traveling to a dozen countries, including Burma, Bosnia, Colombia and Afghanistan, Disarm presents landmines as a global issue, which despite cultural and geographical differences has the same devastating impacts everywhere.

Backed by several NGOs, the film is part of a larger campaign to universalize the Ottawa treaty, but unlike other films of the now tired genre of advocacy documentary, Disarm is compelling without being vitriolic or emotionally manipulative.

While the film is by no means unbiased, the filmmakers strove to present all sides, taking great pains to interview not only those working to end the use of landmines but those who defend their use. Liu and Wareham were even able to track down two soldiers—one in Bosnia and one in Afghanistan—who physically planted landmines in the ground and are now working with disarmers. As the Afghani commander explained, landmines could be an effective method of self-defense, especially for armies or villages with few provisions, keeping enemies at bay through the psychological fear of a landmine when brute force wasn't possible.

That soldiers booby-trapped their own villages in order to protect them and that the same individuals working tirelessly to remove landmines also helped plant them are just some of the complexities brought to bear in the film. Throughout, Disarm manages to demonize the weapon without demonizing the individuals.

Liu and Wareham also drew extensively on the creative talents of D.C. Canty's score, featuring contributions by Thievery Corporation, the Flaming Lips and Icelandic Band Mum, adds a subtle creepiness to the scenes and helps hold together the dramatically different locales.

Though at times incredibly gruesome, disturbing or just downright creepy, the film also captures the continuing capacity for survival. Liu's camera lingers on scenes of men dancing or children playing. In the distance, a signpost with a skull and crossbones cautions that the playground is also a minefield.

For more on Disarm visit their website. For more on the landmine issue, visit the International Campaign to Ban Landmines.