On the way to The Riverview (in the background)
I look forward to this day every year: going to see the documentary shorts at The Riverview Theater. The caliber of films is so high, I often tout these as my favorite films, over the big budget blockbuster films. To do a short film well (in my opinion) you have to tell your story, move your audience in some way, in less than an hour. When you think that many of the 'big' movies this year are well over two hours, you may not think it's possible. This films prove it can be done, and often left me thirsting for more (as opposed to looking at my watch, going, WTH!). So, here we go.
Traffic Stop was the first film in this collection, and I found it the most problematic, and I am really not sure how to convey my thoughts and feelings in a short review. Breaion King, an African American woman, was stopped and arrested by police in Austin, Texas, originally for speeding. The film includes dashcam footage from the police cars as well as an interview with King and footage of her teaching and dancing. The film was made with the deaths of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, and Tamir Rice in the recent past; and the fear that many African Americans feel when in the presence of police. When King is approached by the police (she did not pull over when the car was behind her on the road, perhaps she didn't hear the sirens or see the lights), she had pulled into a strip mall and was appearing to go into a fast food restaurant, when the officer asked for her license and told her he was stopping her for speeding. She seemed very edgy, and was challenging him (can you stop me if I'm already stopped? and not putting her feet in the car and closing the door when asked), and it went all down hill from there. It got physical, and she was eventually put in handcuffs. These scenes are juxtaposed with footage of her working with her students, explaining her drive to become a teacher and get her PhD, and her love of dance. There was a scene, maybe five minutes long, that I thought was interesting and totally unscripted since it was filmed from within the police car as an officer (different from the one who pulled her over) is driving her to the station, and King asks the officer if this type of thing happens a lot, and do you think racists are in the police (I'm paraphrasing), and why do you think that is. The dialog is held in a respectful manner, and the police officer responds and asks her questions, and poses some thoughts back to her (you don't have to agree, but I appreciated that both seemed to be listening to each other). Something bothered me about this film, and I don't think it was the topic, but the way the director handled it cinematically. I felt like something was missing.
Edith + Eddie could have been a beautiful story about a couple, Edith and Eddie, 96 and 95 years old, who find love again in their ninth decade, and ride off into the sunset together. That would have been a great love story and one of the uplifting documentaries. Unfortunately, circumstances, perhaps greed, turned this into an heartbreaking kick in the gut. Edith and Eddie met one night, and fell in love and live in Edith's house in Baltimore (pretty sure, but I can't find confirmation). Eddie does most of the talking, but Edith chimes in, clearly sharing his affection. They are both so happy that they have found each other, and one of Edith's daughters, and their church, support them and can see how they feel about each other. However, another daughter, Patricia, lives in Florida, and wants to bring Edith down there, and ultimately, sell the house. Edith doesn't want to go, and Eddie doesn't want her to go, but the way the system works, because the daughters couldn't agree on a course of action, the court appoints a conservator to make these decisions. The conservator has not met Edith, and does not meet her until the day that Edith has to leave the house. How is this possible? How can she make decisions without meeting Edith? Edith is starting to have issues with her memory, but it seems counterintuitive to remove her from a loving relationship and force her to move hundreds of miles away. There is some suggestion that the move is in part racially motivated: Eddie is white and Edith is black, which is beyond sad, as neither one of them care about color. Edith is taken away, and Eddie is promised by the conservator/attorney that he can call Edith every day, but it doesn't happen. Ultimately, Eddie dies of a broken heart when Edith doesn't return as the attorney promised. This movie made me sad and angry that these two people were deprived of whatever time they had left together because of greed. However, seeing them hold hands and talk about their feelings for one another made me smile. A lot.
Heaven is a Traffic Jam on the 405 is about Los Angeles artist, Mindy Alper, who suffers from depression and anxiety that have been (and can still be) so debilitating that she can't talk or function. Mindy tells us about her life, her battles with her illnesses, how she uses art to express herself. Her depression was so bad at one point that when electroshock treatment was proposed, and the possible bad effects of it were discussed, she opted for it because she felt it was the only solution, even though she believes she experienced some brain damage due to it. Mindy has a good understanding of herself and why she does things or feels certain things; it was interesting to hear her perspective and then listen to her mother recall the circumstances or events. I really liked her style of art, especially her drawings, which reminded me of Shel Silverstein and his poems that captured how kids' feel and think, and I thought Mindy did the same. She also works in paper mache, and it is mind blowing the depth and detail she could attain; this is not your 5th grade paper mache volcano. There are some serious topics covered here, and it would be great to stimulate conversations about mental illness and the possibilities of art therapy. But even with the heaviness, I still smiled because of Mindy's outlook and art.
Heroin(e) is a case study of the opioid epidemic in America, and what the Huntington, West Virginia, authorities and citizens are trying to do to beat it. The dual spelling refers to the drug, but also the three females featured in the film. Assistant Fire Chief Jan Rader is on the scene when there is an overdose called in; sometimes she is first on the scene, sometimes she is there as its wrapping up. She works with public health officials to get naloxone to first responders; she appears at the drug court where Judge Patricia Keller presides. Judge Keller presides over the drug court and talks to the participants like they are adults and has adult expectations for them, pushing them to succeed and stay clean; she'll give a second chance, but don't push her or think she's being soft. That would be a mistake. Necia Freeman drives the streets of Huntington, offering brown bag meals to prostitutes and tries to talk to them about getting into treatment, or at least temporarily off of the streets. It seems like such a hopeless situation; Rader estimates that Huntington has lost at least two generations to opioid addiction. Yet, they don't give up, and every success story, gives them the fuel to keep trying.
Knife Skills made me want to hoot and holler and give a big shout out to my hometown of Cleveland. Edwin's is a restaurant/culinary school/program founded by Brandon Chrostowski in Cleveland's Shaker Square that takes its cooks and front of house staff from formerly incarcerated inmates. It's about second chances and opportunity, and what can happen when you take them, or are given them. It is crazy to think that from when the film starts, there are only six weeks until the restaurant opens, and the staff hasn't even been hired yet, much less trained. The movie focuses on three or four of the staff, and the story does not shy away from the fact that not everyone is going to make it. I enjoyed hearing from the trainees, and their connection to cooking, why they wanted to do this, how good it made them feel to have a purpose and focus and contribute to the community. Chrostowski has high standards, and has set a high bar by deciding to prepare French cuisine, and I don't mean French fries or French toast; duck confit, rabbit, you know, the usual; and expectations for that kind of cuisine and the associated costs are very high. It seems the restaurant delivered; it's still open and continues to get high praise. Edwin's shows that this kind of business model, while not without challenges (the restaurant business is inherently risky), can thrive and bring value to the community and improve the lives of those who want another chance. Maybe I'll stop in for the quiche.
I hate picking a favorite out of these powerful films, but I would not be sad if Knife Skills wins.
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| Artwork on the way to the lightrail station, Minneapolis |
