After seeing too many slickly produced and formulaic documentaries, I felt cynical and uninspired to write for a long time. Skillful cinematography and editing can create the illusion of a good documentary, but a story without authenticity, passion, or depth is not worth writing about. When I discovered Elie Wiesel: Soul on Fire, I decided it was time to return so I could highlight this moving new documentary. This humble film directed by Oren Rudavsky is a poignant biography of Elie Wiesel that uses hand-painted animation to show Wiesel’s memories and dreams.

In 1944 fifteen year-old Elie Wiesel and his family were living in Sighet, Transylvania (Romania) before they were forcibly sent to a concentration camp. Wiesel was subjected to forced labor and starvation. He witnessed torture and executions. He was able to stay with his father throughout most of their internment, until his father died of sickness and exhaustion. Wiesel’s mother and younger sister also died in the camps. His two older sisters Beatrice and Hilda survived. Wiesel’s first memoir Night details his experiences in the camps and became an internationally renowned book that is still taught in many American high school classrooms. Before his death in 2016 Wiesel had been a writer, professor, and activist against genocide. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986.

The documentary does not retell Wiesel’s experiences in the concentration camps chronologically, but instead focuses on how Wiesel processed these events throughout different phases of his life. Wiesel felt compelled to write down his experiences for fear the events of the Holocaust would be quickly forgotten. Interviewees in the documentary explain how eager people were to move on from the past and how challenging it was for Night to gain attention when it was first published in Yiddish in 1956. It wasn’t until it was trimmed down significantly and translated into French and English that it began to gain global attention.

Many documentaries dealing with the Holocaust often rely on the handful of photographs taken when the concentration camps were liberated or from individual families before their lives were changed forever. While this documentary does make use of Wiesel’s personal photos and video clips, animation is the main way in which memories, nightmares, and dreams are portrayed. These were beautifully hand-painted by Joel Orloff. There is only about 15 minutes of animation in the documentary, but it took Orloff nearly a year of intensive work to complete.1 Most animated segments are in simple black and white, but there are a few happy memories and dreams that use color. Each of these sequences is accompanied by Wiesel’s own words. They feature abstract and morphing images that try to depict the feelings and viewpoint of Wiesel. It is especially impactful when Wiesel recounts his dreams of someday reuniting with his parents and younger sister.

Rudavsky could have easily valorized Elie Wiesel and focused on his many awards and books, but he instead took a more personal approach. The stories featured from Wiesel’s life focus on his faith as well as his relationships with family and students. Most of the interviews are with Wiesel’s close family members or former students. His son Elisha features heavily in the film and is honest that he had a loving but complicated relationship with his famous father. The birth of Elisha is portrayed as a major turning point in Wiesel’s life, helping to restore his faith and hope for the future. From the start, Wiesel is shown as an ordinary person thrown into extraordinary circumstances by historical events. It is a humane and intimate portrayal of Wiesel’s struggles and successes as he chooses to embrace life after surviving one of the darkest moments of the twentieth century.

****

Documentary: Boston’s Frederick Wiseman Retrospective

This year movie theaters across Boston honored Frederick Wiseman by screening several of his documentaries for the public. It felt impossible to pick a documentary released in 2025 that I liked better than the Wiseman films.

I was able to see High School and Zoo in theaters and finally finished watching Titicut Follies in its entirety at home. Titicut Follies (1967) is an observational documentary about the male prisoners of the Bridgewater Hospital for the Criminally Insane in Massachusetts. There are several scenes that are disturbing because the conditions are terrible and prisoners are treated like animals at times. But what is most surprising is how nonchalant the staff members are. I had encountered Titicut in both my undergraduate and graduate studies. During my sophmore year my undergrad Professor Bob Harris showed it as an example of great documentary filmmaking. Watching it for the first time was a shocking and eye opening experience. In graduate school I was assigned articles about how Wiseman’s approach was exploitative and did not make any real impact. Now that I am distanced from academia, I have come down somewhere in the middle. I think it is a great documentary that does serve a purpose. The prisoners were treated horrifically and such treatment was seen as acceptable and standard procedure. However, filming people who don’t have their full mental clarity to consent or not is an ethical problem that cannot be ignored.

Wiseman’s early work serves as a valuable reminder of the flaws of large institutions and how normalized dehumanizing practices can become. During the second Trump administration Americans have seen multiple institutions like the Supreme Court, universities, and media outlets fail to push back against authoritarian policies. It is disappointing, but relates back to the philosopher Michel Foucault’s conclusion that most large institutions will cease to serve their original purpose and instead focus only on their own preservation. Foucault is a tough read, but Wiseman shows the failure of institutions in a simple and visceral way.

Podcast: MUBI Podcasts

Everything this year I have listened to on MUBI has been excellent. These podcasts are not just people giving their random opinions on films, like a lot of film podcasts, but the hosts have done extensive research and interview cast and crew members from the films they showcase.

The Ladies of Lynch series was a great way to both honor David Lynch and showcase the amazing female collaborators on screen and behind the scenes that have made his work so memorable. It spans the entire gamut of Lynch’s major films like Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive, Lost Highway, Inland Empire and Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.

MUBI’s series Traveling Shots was also a great introduction to the cinema culture of different countries like Mexico, Amsterdam, Ireland, and Istanbul. I loved the interviews with local cinephiles and filmmakers. One of my favorite episodes was about squatters in Amsterdam that created indie cinemas in abandoned buildings.

Indie Cinema: The Brattle

The Brattle had a great season of weird and cult films that are tough to see anywhere else. I saw John Carpenter’s They Live here for the first time on Black Friday in November. Ushers handed out sunglasses at the door that said “OBEY” and “CONSUME” in white letters on the arms. Special glasses in the film allow the protagonists to see a dark truth about the world. There was a rambunctious full house that was laughing and cheering throughout. The film is not Carpenter’s best, but it is a bold and entertaining critique of capitalism.

The Brattle also screened the entire season of Twin Peaks: The Return. I didn’t get a chance to see every episode in the theater, but I was able to see the legendary Episode 8 that features the first atomic bomb test. David Lynch depicts the test as tearing a rift in the space-time continuum. As the explosion fills the screen, an overpowering piercing sound track is heard. It is a stunning and frightening visualization of evil being released into the world.

Fiction Book: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

This novel is an important story of narcissism and how deceiving outer beauty can be. Early on in the book Gray finds a way to stop aging and maintain his youthful beauty. Gray is likeable and charismatic in the beginning of the story. Throughout the novel the reader is hoping the best for him, or wishing that he will eventually change his selfish ways. But Gray’s slow moral degradation as he continues to be admired and praised by others is chilling. It reminds us how easy it is to equate superficial beauty with goodness and how wrong that assumption often is.

Honorable Mention: Ubik by Philip K. Dick
Ubik is not in the same literary league as The Picture of Dorian Gray, but Philip K. Dick is one of my favorite science fiction writers. This is a wild and reality bending dream-like narrative. It is entertaining, convoluted, and funny. If you liked Inception or The Matrix, then you’ll love this book.

Non-Fiction Book: Stay True by Hua Hsu

Hua Hsu’s memoir is a moving story of his college days and the unlikely friendship he develops with Ken. As a student Hsu is into indie music, custom made zines, and protesting. Ken is a charming and fashionable frat guy. At first Hsu isn’t interested in being friends, but Hsu soon learns that Ken is more than he appears to be, and that two have much more in common than they realize. All of these moments are made more poignant by the fact that we know from the beginning of the book that Ken died his junior year.

The majority of the memoir focuses on memories of their friendship, but the later part of the book tackles the pain and confusion of experiencing great loss for the first time. Hsu describes his grief in a raw and honest way that highlights how it can linger and remerge at various points in life. Anyone who has lost a friend too soon will find this book cathartic and meaningful.

Graphic Novel: Feeding Ghosts by Tessa Hulls

This graphic memoir by Tessa Hulls is a masterpiece in storytelling. She seamlessly weaves the narratives of her own life with her mother’s and grandmother’s stories. It explores her grandmother’s struggles with schizophrenia and the link between her mental illness and surviving the tumultuous changes during the Communist Revolution in China. Hulls explores how her grandmother’s past and mental health impacted the relationship with her own mother. Overall it is a moving family drama and unique exploration of the impact of intergenerational trauma.

Performance: Amplify

Puppet Showplace Theater in Brookline, Massachusetts has an annual event called “Amplify” in which participants of The Creative Residency for Black Puppeteers perform their work alongside local puppeteers and alumni from past cohorts. This was an amazing show that featured hand puppets, marionettes, shadow puppets, and a human sized figure.

My favorite piece was “Soul City” by Ash Winkfield and Charlotte Lily Gaspard. The audio was different pre-recorded interviews with people speaking about their ideas of what a soul is, who has a soul, and the possibility of an afterlife. With a small white sheet and lights the puppeteers created a dream space as people’s ideas were illustrated with colorful abstract images. Fish, whales, and elephants suddently appeared during a discussion of animals and reincarnation. The puppeteers transitioned from one stunning landscape to the next with a smoothness that was magical. It was a beautiful performance that I hope savor in my memory.

Kundun (1997) is a stunning and profound biopic of the early life of His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama. A few months ago, I had no idea this Scorsese film even existed. I learned about it because it was being screened at the Tribeca Film Festival to honor the 90^th birthday of His Holiness.1 The making of documentary In Search of Kundun directed by Michael Henry Wilson is a worthy companion piece. It includes incredible observational footage from Morroco where the film was shot, and has interviews with His Holiness and several Tibetan cast members and consultants.

Kundun tells the story of His Holiness’s life from his early childhood up until his exile to India in 1959. (Kundun is a Tibetan honorific title for the Dalai Lama that roughly translates to “the presence.”) His Holiness was born July 6, 1935 in the small village of Taktser. His parents were farmers and he was one of seven children. When he was two years old, he was discovered by a traveling group of monks and passed a series of tests that proved he was the 14^th Reincarnation of the Dalai Lama. The film follows him through his religious education and as political tensions began to rise between China and Tibet. By 1950 Mao Zedong was the leader of the newly renamed People’s Republic of China, and there was a massive effort to reshape society to fit communist ideology. In October 1950 Chinese military forces invaded Tibet and claimed to liberate the country from its theocratic rule. Ever since then there have been systemic efforts to erase Tibetan culture and language, and violent crackdowns on protestors.2

Kundun begins years before the fateful invasion in 1950 and is bursting with color and exquisite details. The production designer Dante Ferreti worked closely with His Holiness to recreate his childhood home and the monasteries where he lived. Roger Deakins’s masterful cinematography is able to capture mountainous vistas and intimate point of view shots from His Holiness as a child.3 Brief moments of Buddhist monks working on a sand mandala, a large meticulous patterned design created out of colored sand to represent the transience of all things, are used throughout the film to great effect. And there are several scenes in which traditional dances and religious ceremonies are highlighted. Splendorous images paired with a lively score by Philip Glass create a vivid picture of a vibrant culture shaped by Buddhism.

This is not a film that revolves around a fast paced plot, but instead focuses on the inner and spiritual life of the protagonist. We see His Holiness grow from a child with a shallow understanding of Buddhism into an adult who has to put his faith into practice as a leader. Scorsese finds a good balance between portraying His Holiness as a thoughtful spiritual leader and also showing his doubts and flaws. The scenes of His Holiness’s childhood are compelling because he seems like an ordinary boy who misses his family and is somewhat overwhelmed by his fate. Were His Holiness to be portrayed as perfect from the start, then the film would be far less impactful. His faith in nonviolence and his own worthiness to lead are tested several times as he becomes a young adult.

It is not a flawless film. All the actors speak English when events take place in Tibet, China, and India, which detracts from the realism of the story. So much of Tibetan culture is captured visually, and if actors could speak Tibetan, then this would have been a valuable resource for future generations. (There has always been a reticence among American audiences to read subtitles, so this is my guess as to why the film was made in English.) Unfortunately the 17-year old actor who played the older version of His Holiness later in the film was not always able to convey the stakes of the difficult choices he had to make. However, several cast members were excellent, especially the monks and advisors to His Holiness, who had a compelling gravitas and sense of urgency in their scenes.

Watching the documentary In Search of Kundun adds a deeper meaning to the film, because we get to know the significance of the project to the Tibetan cast members and consultants. There are a handful of interviews with the real Dalai Lama in which he discusses his decision to let Scorsese make his biopic and explains how he was involved with the filmmaking process. Tibetans were flown in from various diaspora communities from across the globe in order to act in Kundun and work as consultants. Several of the actors talked about how meaningful it was to work on a film that celebrated their culture and history. Lead production consultant Namgyal L. Taklha, the sister-in-law of His Holiness, speaks about the unique experience of accurately translating her family’s history to the screen.

The documentary also shows Scorsese at his best. He is jovial on set and takes great care when working with some of the child actors. It is strange that a director known for violent gangster films is portraying the 14^th Dalai Lama, a man dedicated to nonviolence. But that apparent contradiction is pointed out to Scorsese. He explains that he wanted to understand the deep commitment and faith in nonviolence. There are a handful of visceral violent scenes in Kundun that challenge His Holiness’s faith in nonviolence. The foreboding danger of some of Scorsese’s gangster films is also present in the tense scenes between Mao and the Dalai Lama. But Kundun is strikingly different than Scorsese’s best known films. It has a sensitivity and thoughtfulness that is seen in Scorsese’s riskier projects like Age of Innocence, The Silence, and Killers of the Flower Moon.

I would argue any day that Kundun is one of Scorsese’s best films, but there is a reason that many people have never seen it. Kundun is impossible to stream online, with the exception of a bootleg version on YouTube. To watch a high quality version you’d have to buy it on DVD or order through the public library system. Almost as soon as it was completed in 1997, its production company Disney tried to limit the theatrical release because of pressure from the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). On a trip to China a year later, CEO Michael Eisner met with Chinese government officials to offer his apologies for green lighting the picture. Some critics and scholars have argued this was a pivotal moment that paved the way for the CCP to censor films from major studios that dealt with sensitive political topics.4 Scorsese’s recent screening at the Tribeca Film Festival in June 2025 was one of the first major public screenings of the film in years. As of this writing, Disney has still not allowed Kundun on any streaming platforms.

Kundun is an inherently political film because it is about Tibet, but it is most importantly a spiritual journey. Films about faith can sometimes seem irrelevant to those who don’t practice that particular religion or are secular. But as an atheist, I would argue that films about faith can still be an important reminder of shared humanistic values of compassion, nonviolence, and respect for all beings. I wanted to write about Kundun because I found it deeply moving. Several scenes have stayed with me, especially a poetic montage towards the end of the film that intercuts His Holiness’s journey into exile with abstract Buddhist imagery. Kundun shows the joys, revelations, and hardships of a spiritual life in a visceral and sacred way.

When the film ends, His Holiness is in exile in India and the CCP has complete control of Tibet. Since going into exile, His Holiness has spent his life building a strong Tibetan diaspora community in India and across the globe. He has worked to help create a democratic government in exile and has encouraged others to take leadership roles. His Holiness continues to publicly advocate for religious and cultural freedom in Tibet.5

One film cannot change the world, but Kundun should be made available more widely. It is a powerful reminder of the faith and culture that so many Tibetans across the globe are working to preserve.

***

To watch a high quality version of both films, search for the Kundun DVD at your local library/university or order through interlibrary loan. In Search of Kundun is included in the special features. Kundun is also available in the Martin Scorsese: Films of Faith collection. I do not approve of the practice, but both films can also be found on YouTube.

The ultimate goal of a political documentary is to spark conversation and action. Director AJ Schnack has been on a mission to get his documentary Majority Rules screened in as many communities as possible. Schnack is known for making non-partisan documentaries that explain political processes. Although his latest film is strictly non-partisan, it has a strong activist message. The goal is to pitch ranked choice voting as a reform that can radically improve our democracy. It was released in the summer of 2024 with the intention of reaching voters in the November 2024 election; election reform initiatives were on the ballot in a handful of states. Although those elections have long past, there are still dozens of states and municipalities that might be considering ranked choice voting.

On August 16^th at 1:30 PM I will be hosting a screening and discussion of Majority Rules at The Ashby Free Public Library. The screening is one of several events connected to the Voices and Votes Smithsonian Exhibition, which is at the library now through September 6^th. This traveling exhibition showcases the history of voting in the United States. It details voting in the drafting of the constitution, explains the Electoral College, and illustrates how different states run elections. The exhibit moves chronologically through history documenting the fight for constitutional amendments and legislation to ensure all citizens the right to vote. It is a great introduction to The Women’s Suffragist and Civil Rights Movements.

The end of the exhibit briefly touches on a major threat to voting rights today – gerrymandering. Gerrymandering is the process of creating voting districts based on voter data in order to favor a certain political party. Politicians select their voters and therefore create uncompetitive districts. Because of this, many voters feel like voting doesn’t matter. Majority Rules argues that ranked choice voting (RCV) is a potential remedy to this unfair system. RCV ensures that the winner of an election receives the most votes. A voter ranks candidates according to their personal preference. The ranking system creates an instant run-off if one candidate does not receive more than fifty percent of votes. For example, if a voter’s first choice has such a low percentage that they have no chance of winning, then their second choice vote is used, and so on. RCV creates more competitive elections in partisan strongholds and also makes it possible for independent and third-party candidates to be viable in elections.

The production team traveled across the United States highlighting different ballot measures to expand ranked choice voting and open primaries in Washington, D.C., Nevada, Oregon, and Idaho. In between it jumps back and forth to a compelling frame story of the 2022 mid-term elections in Alaska. It is the state's first election with RCV and an open primary. (An open primary system means all candidates of different parties appear on the same ballot.) It follows two competitive congressional races: Mike Begich III (R), Sarah Palin (R), and Mary Peltola (D) are running for Alaska’s sole seat in the US House of Representatives, while Lisa Murkowski (R) and Kelly Tshibaka (R) are running for a seat in the US Senate.

The candidates have radically different views and agendas, but Schnack gives them equal deference. His main focus is on observing how this new voting system changes the way they campaign and govern. Many of the featured participants working on RCV initiatives are not diehard Democrats or Republicans. This non-partisan approach may seem quaint during a time of extreme polarization in the United States, but I still think there is value in trying to be objective about issues like election reform that impact everyone. This may sound hypocritical coming from a Substack called The Subjective Observer, but not every cause is well served by a personalized and passionate viewpoint. Persuasion sometimes requires being able to make a compelling argument in a rational and non-judgmental way. Schnack succeeds in making the case that RCV gives all voters a greater choice in elections.

If you are in the area, then I hope you’ll join me for the screening and lively discussion on Majority Rules.

For many cinephiles, Close-up is in the pantheon of the all-time greatest films. This Iranian film, released in 1990, propelled director Abbas Kiarostami to international fame. It is known for blending fiction and nonfiction, and there have been heated debates about whether it should be categorized as fiction or documentary.1

The main protagonist is Hossein Sabzian, a poor bookbinder with a passion for cinema. Sabzian befriends the middle-class Ahankhah family by convincing them he is the famous Iranian director Mohsen Makhmalbaf. Sabzian starts making plans to cast the family in a movie he wants to shoot. Eventually the family discovers Sabzian’s fraud, and he is arrested and brought to trial. During his trial Sabzian tries to explain his actions and how his dream of becoming a director led him to deceive the family.

If this were a purely fictional film, then it would be easy to enjoy the story and appreciate all the rich details and nuance. Despite his act of deception, Sabzian is portrayed as a sensitive, intelligent, and sympathetic person. There is a moving climax and conclusion at the end of the film. The credits roll with Sabzian smiling as he clutches red flowers. It is hard not to be affected by the beauty and tenderness of these cinematic moments.

But the story of Sabzian’s life and the filmmaking process were much more complicated than a traditional narrative film. Most of what is seen on screen is either reenactments of past real events or observational footage of real events. But Kiarostami makes no effort within the film to explain to the viewer what was real, what was scripted, and what events he directly influenced for the sake of his film. Because of extensive research and interviews with Kiarostami, viewers today are now able to understand more clearly which elements were reenactments and which real-time events Kiarostami shaped.

Kiarostami worked closely with Sabzian to script his defense before the trial. The trial was recorded as it happened, and it is extraordinary that Kiarostami was allowed to do so. The mullah serving as the judge had great leeway in how to operate his own courtroom, and he decided to give Kiarostami permission to film. The most shocking revelation about the process is that Kiarostami made great efforts to convince the judge to rule in Sabzian’s favor. (The director’s heavy-handed role behind the scenes is not part of the film.) Both the family and Sabzian were unhappy about Kiarostami’s meddling in this way. This approach raises several ethical red flags, but some directors feel that is the price of great cinema. How could the film be impactful without Sabzian’s impassioned pleas? What if he were sentenced to prison? Kiarostami argues that he was helping Sabzian and fulfilling both parties’ desires to have their side of the story told. He claims they could have refused to participate, which was a constant fear he had during the filmmaking process.2

Another problem with this hybrid approach is that it can lead to thinking of real people as characters outside our reality. In a 2009 interview for Criterion, Kiarostami compared Sabzian to a character from a Dostoevsky novel. That’s not usually a compliment. Many of Dostoevsky’s characters suffer through poverty, intense psychological distress, and crippling existential questions.3 When Kiarostami spoke about his challenges working with Sabzian, he recounted his own anxieties and Sabzian’s distrust of him. He spoke as if he were dealing with a difficult actor, and not someone who had a lot to lose if he was portrayed negatively. Kiarostami does show genuine respect for Sabzian’s intelligence and love of film, but it is clear he saw his subject closer to a literary character than a real person.4

The stark contrast between Close-up and Sabzian’s lived reality is most evident in the 1996 documentary Close-up Long Shot, directed by Mahmoud Chokrollahi and Moslem Mansouri. This 40-minute documentary came out six years after Close-up. It is about Sabzian’s life in his hometown, Isfahan, where he still works at the same bookbinding business and lives in poverty. It is simple in its approach– mainly long interview takes with Sabzian and short segments of b-roll. Sabzian’s neighbors have all seen Close-up, and instead of seeing him as a thoughtful and sympathetic figure, they see him as a conman or a lunatic. His boss says he thinks Sabzian is insane for his obsession with cinema. Sabzian’s sister is almost in tears as she explains that he is forever stained as a criminal for participating in Close-up. We learn that Sabzian’s passion for moviegoing began when he was just a young child. There is also a harrowing story from his childhood that reveals the immense difficulties he has faced throughout life. The starkness of Sabzian’s life as captured in Close-up Long Shot in contrast to the beauty of Close-up is unsettling and haunting. It could be argued Close-up is not complete without this illuminating follow-up.

There seems to be broad agreement between Sabzian’s neighbors and Kiarostami that Sabzian had a fatal love of cinema. Even Sabzian himself expresses regret that his passion has led to hardship and suffering. But I would argue that this viewpoint misses the greater and more devastating tragedy of Sabzian’s life: the poverty that makes it impossible for him to find meaning and fulfillment.

What if Sabzian had been born into a middle-class family? What if he had the opportunity to attend a university and make connections the way Kiarostami did? In Close-up Long Shot Sabzian laments that the directions Kiarostami gave during filmmaking were extremely similar to Sabzian’s directions when he tried to make a film with the Ahankhah family initially. His neighbors and Kiarostami talk of Sabzian’s devotion to cinema as an unhealthy obsession, but many well-known directors speak about their early love of cinema, their giant film collections, and their never-ending study of the art form. In Sabzian’s case it is viewed as a psychological disorder, but for an accomplished director it would be seen as proof of his genius and dedication.

The critiques against Sabzian have often been used cruelly against artists who live in poverty or encounter frequent financial struggles. Those who pursue college degrees in the arts are judged as “wasting” their education. Their financial difficulties later on are seen as rightful punishment for bad choices. Artists who don’t or can’t pursue formal education are often labeled amateurs if they try to break into the professional world, even if they have extensive experience. The illusion of a world of meritocracy still exists, and few want to admit that success in the film industry is often dependent on money and connections. Sabzian did not even have the chance to get any training or to pursue filmmaking professionally. In this sense, Sabzian has several similarities to a different working-class filmmaker I have written about on this Substack, Mark Borchardt, who is the main participant in American Movie. Borchardt is portrayed in a more comedic way than Sabzian, but both have a passion for film that is stifled by their social class and sometimes ridiculed by their peers.

Often I wonder how Sabzian’s life might have been different had he been born later – what if he were a young man with his same passions now? I don’t think that Close-up could be made today because of social media and the general awareness of marketed online personas. I think Sabzian’s “obsession” would probably be more broadly accepted amongst the thousands of online film forums and fan groups. Perhaps he would be the moderator of the Makhmalbaf Reddit page and have a Tiktok in which he reviewed films. Or maybe he would prefer to have a thoughtful blog about film.

Sabzian died at the age of 52 of a heart attack in 2006, but he still has an intense following online. There are several online forums in which he is continually discussed. There is an international film journal, Sabzian, named in his honor. Sabzian’s devotion to the art of film is what has given Close-up lasting resonance. The tragedy of his life was not that cinema ruined him, but that he never had the opportunity to pursue his dreams.

***
Close-up is available to stream online for free on Kanopy in the United States and Canada through your university or public library.

Close-up Long Shot and the 2009 interview with Kiarostami are available to watch on DVD or online through the Criterion Channel.

Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde performs June 13 & 14 at 7:30 PM. Leominster City Hall. Free Admission.

How can theater be documentary? The two mediums seem like opposites, but theatrical devices lend themselves better to documentary reenactments than the realistic style of traditional fiction films. Reenactments attempt to convey the feeling and facts of an event without having the viewer mistake them for the real thing. A documentarian using reenactments often wants to avoid the hyper-realistic style of fiction films, so that viewers are always aware of what is staged and what is real. Documentary plays are created for live theatrical performances, but they use the traditional methodology of documentary, such as real stories, in-depth research, interviews, and direct excerpts from reliable primary sources.

For the past two months I have been working as the stage manager for a production of Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde, a documentary play by Moisés Kaufman. The play is being put on by City on a Hill Arts, a company that has mounted a handful of documentary plays such as Seven, co-written by seven female playwrights from around the world; Right Before I Go by Stan Zimmerman; and The Laramie Project by Moisés Kaufman and the Tectonic Theater Project.

The Tectonic Theater Project is known for creating and producing documentary plays. It is led by playwright Moisés Kaufman, whose ensemble has helped construct plays through extensive research, primary source documents, and recorded interviews. Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde was their first documentary theater production in 1997. They later went on to assemble two plays from over 200 interviews with residents of Laramie, Wyoming. The Laramie Project and The Laramie Project: Ten Years Later are about the 1998 murder of a young gay man named Matthew Shepard, which was ruled a hate crime.

Gross Indecency begins at the peak of Wilde’s success. Wilde was an Irishman who had risen through English society to become an extremely popular and critically acclaimed writer. In the 1890s, when the trials began, his two plays An Ideal Husband and The Importance of Being Earnest were being performed in London. His novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was already being recognized as a great literary work. But Wilde lost everything when he was brought to trial for having romantic relationships with other men.

What makes it documentary theater as opposed to simply "based on a true story" is that primary source materials are excerpted almost exclusively and also cited throughout. There are no fictionalized scenes. The ensemble narrates and also announces the sources being used for each moment or scene. All the courtroom scenes are edited from the original trial transcripts. Accounts of private and more intimate moments are quoted directly from letters and autobiographies of friends of Oscar Wilde such as Lord Alfred Douglas (Wilde's lover), Frank Harris, George Bernard Shaw, and Sir Edward Clarke (Wilde's lawyer).

To get a more in-depth view of the current production I wanted to interview director Jack Crory about the experience of mounting a documentary play and the value of political theater. This interview has been trimmed and slightly edited for clarity.

SUBJECTIVE OBSERVER: What made you initially interested in directing Gross Indecency?

JACK CRORY: Well, there are a few things that came together at once. One is that I've been involved in The Laramie Project twice. I was interested to read other plays the Tectonic Theater Project had created, and to me Gross Indecency was an even more interesting thing to do within that method of documentary theater. I liked the idea of having a play that's based on real words, but those words are all from the past. It's a bit more distant - all from transcripts of trials, from letters mostly, so that was interesting to me that you could construct a very dramatic play, but not write any dramatic scenes. To just pull from all real sources.

I'm also very interested in Oscar Wilde as an author and a thinker. Whenever I circle back to Oscar Wilde, and read something new by him, I'm struck by the profound insights that he has about the nature of truth and how we construct our identities. And I think that this play really gets at some of his ideas while at the same time just telling the story of this obviously pivotal moment in his life. And I will say also that I wanted to direct this play because I'm involved with this company, City on a Hill Arts, and another person another artist who is very involved in this company is David Allen Prescott. I thought that they would be an excellent cast for the role of Oscar Wilde, so I just thought it would be a perfect marriage between an actor and material.

SO: How is the experience working on documentary theater projects like Right Before I Go, The Laramie Project, and Gross Indecency different from working on traditional fiction plays?

CRORY: Well, I can talk first about acting in The Laramie Project and Right Before I Go. What I've come to appreciate working on those two plays as an actor is that an actor delivering a monologue on stage to an audience can be spontaneous and unpredictable and can have its own special charge of energy that is not present in film or TV. It became a special experience, because I knew they were based on the people's real words.

As far as directing Gross Indecency, it’s different from directing other plays because I'm not so much thinking about how an author has crafted a story line, but I'm thinking more about actual events that happened, things that real people said, and I'm thinking about what we're doing as simply interpreting how the playwright Moisés Kaufman has selectively edited those words. You know, typically when rehearsing a play there are many discussions with actors about why a scene is written the way that it is. Why is this here at this point in the play? But the discussions in Gross Indecency were completely different. It’s more about, “okay, why was this part of the transcript selected and not this other part? Why is this text from something Oscar Wilde wrote being juxtaposed with something from a trial?” There's also a lot of talk with actors about, you know, all of the real people who they are portraying.

The last thing I would say is that Moisés Kaufman instructs a company to perform the play in a Brechtian style—the actors are really not supposed to inhabit the roles in a realistic way. In other words, they're not supposed to ask the audience to suspend their disbelief, and act like they're not aware that they're looking at actors on a stage. Instead you're supposed to present it to an audience in a way that they're always aware of the actors. That's a style that I feel just goes hand-in-hand with the whole idea of documentary theater.

SO: Why do you think it's important for people to experience Brechtian theater? As we you were saying, plays which tear down the fourth wall and realism.

CRORY: As Moisés Kaufman and other members of the Tectonic Theater Company and Brecht make clear in their writings, when you think of realism as the default or main way to tell a story, you're really just leaving by the wayside so many other possibilities for storytelling and the creation of art. To me it’s about freeing up artists to explore all the different ways that stories can be told by kind of discarding realism. Another thing that Brecht was really big on, at least at one point in his career, was this idea that theater should be more focused on being thought-provoking and intellectual than emotion-inducing. There’s a lot of discussion about Brecht, about how much he truly believed that - how far you can really take that? But I do find the general insight valuable.

In this production of Gross Indecency I'm trying to follow in the Brechtian tradition by having, you know, simple theatrical devices that are alienating and cause people to think about the story they're watching, but not necessarily get lost in it [like you would with] a realistic story. For example, there's a section in which there are many lines from Oscar Wilde's third trial in the script and we get different snippets that are all kind of placed one after another, of things that were said during the trial, rather than an extended back and forth sequence of questioning like from the first two trials. We have the actor playing Oscar Wilde just sort of moving about the stage, not sitting in a chair or standing at a bar like he would have been in the actual trial. We have actors standing up shouting out their lines from different places in the room. And while all this is going on, someone is beating a frame drum, which is meant to suggest in a theatrical way a heartbeat, or the mental pressure that Oscar Wilde was feeling as all this was bearing down on him. So all those things, like having people move about the space in a non-realistic way, and the drum—those are meant to just get people thinking about how Oscar Wilde may have felt during that trial, and those devices are only possible if you abandon realism.

SO: Why do you think Moisés Kaufman and others choose theater as opposed to film, which people traditionally associate with documentary? Why choose theater for the documentary form as opposed to film?

CRORY: There are many elements of artistic communication that theater has that film does not have. You know, in a theater everyone in an audience is in a space and they are they are in relation to all the other things that are in that space - what's on stage and the other audience members. When someone's watching a film, whether that's in a cinema or on television, they are just looking at a screen. But in a theater you are you are literally in a space and there's all sorts of meanings that can come from where things are placed...

It's really part of the culture of theater that plays are performed over and over again with different actors and seen at different times and places. So when a playwright creates a play either by writing their own or by assembling, you know, material into a play like Moisés Kaufman does here, he is not just creating one theater production - he's creating a blueprint for many productions to happen in the future in times and places that he cannot imagine. So there's something very powerful about participating in theater, whether as an artist or as a spectator, because you know that you are watching or performing something that has been performed by people before you and will be performed afterward.

SO: Moisés Kaufman published a letter opposing the recent cuts to the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA). What role can this play and other works of art have in this current political moment?

CRORY: I don't think that any one theater production on its own can change the political trajectory of the United States, because by its nature, it's not a mass medium. Only so many people can be in a room at a time to see a play. However, I think that if people all over the United States are involved in artistic and literary activities that challenge bigotry, that challenge abuse of power, that challenge the ideas behind authoritarianism, then eventually everyone in America will have the chance to see that people in their communities do not see authoritarian government or some of the bigotry behind the MAGA movement as normal or good.

Like Leominster is a small city in the middle of New England. It's in Massachusetts. People think of Massachusetts as a very liberal or progressive state, but those of us who are in Central Massachusetts know that, you know, it's a very different culture than the Boston area. But I feel that if there were a production of Gross Indecency, or a similar play, or other artistic events like it that were happening in cities like Leominster all over the country, every month of the year for the next four years, then I think that it would make a—not in achieving a certain outcome, but in creating a culture in which people just reject authoritarianism. They reject fascism. They reject the idea that the things that they should be looking for in leaders are those who find scapegoats and blame them for their problems.

If people were going to see stories in which they're reminded about all of our flaws and how we can overcome them as human beings, then I think gradually over time that leads to a better society. So, I'm just a big believer in arts, culture, and education being something that can permeate a democracy. And that will allow people to find their better selves and develop ideas. That will then bubble up through our elections into choosing better leaders.

What Moisés Kaufman was referring to specifically in his letter was the cutting of arts funding. He was writing that letter in response to cutting funding for the NEA and other things. It was the Trump administration's way of trying to stifle the type of arts and culture that I'm talking about. Moisés Kaufman is very aware that authoritarians are aware that organic grassroots arts, tolerant arts and culture are bad for their aims. And so that's why they're trying to choke it off with funding. That’s why it should be resisted.

Stolen Kingdom

Directed by Joshua Bailey

Stolen Kingdom documents the escapades and thefts by explorers of abandoned Disney theme parks. It is an entertaining, but also revealing, story about the limitations of consumerism. At first these late-night adventures seem like childish trespassing, but the documentary takes a dark turn when theft and conspiracy theories start to breed from the online popularity of these videos. Throughout, we are introduced to the online legends of documenting the underground world of abandoned theme parks.

The humor and eccentric, amoral characters are similar to early Errol Morris documentaries like Gates of Heaven and Mr. Death. The interviewees are so immersed in their obsession that they don’t realize how strange their behavior or ideas are. The older explorers like Dave “The Hoot” Ensign are in their 50s and seem to have more nostalgic and preservationist motivations for exploring. They want to have fun, but also feel they should capture footage and photos of these places in a meticulous way, so they are not completely forgotten. The younger vloggers, like Matt Sonswa and Patrick Spikes, have different intentions. Sonswa finds exploring these dangerous places exciting and thrilling and makes riskier decisions each time he visits. Spikes is a Disney fanatic, but is also trying to make a profit by stealing items to sell on the black market.

What most of these people have in common is a shared worship of Disney that slowly loses its luster as they go deeper into the abandoned parks. These beautiful dreamlike places from childhood are now rotting and haunting. In many ways they resemble the abandoned American cities which were once bustling with life, but are now mostly empty buildings. The explorers that search these abandoned parks are men dissatisfied with their everyday lives hoping to find some kind of treasure or meaning in the ruins.

Deaf President Now!

Directed by Nyle DiMarco & Davis Guggenheim

This empowering documentary is about the student-led protest movement to appoint a deaf president at Gallaudet University. Gallaudet is located in Washington D.C. and was founded in 1864. It was the only university in the world at the time designed for a deaf student community. But in 1988, a deaf president had still never been appointed to lead Gallaudet. When a handful of qualified deaf candidates were passed over for a hearing candidate, students organized massive protests on campus that captured the country’s attention. In the documentary the four student leaders Jerry Covell, Bridgetta Bourne-Firl, Tim Rarus, and Greg Hlibok (now in their 60s) recount the different strategies and obstacles they faced.

The story is fast-paced and engaging, taking us through the highs and lows of each day of the protests. It is structured to keep you on edge wondering if the students will succeed or fail. The interviews and old news coverage show the messiness and uncertainty of the protests. There are several moments in which the student leaders admit they felt lost, or they disagreed on the best methods to get their demands met. Dramatic scenes are also heightened by a motif in which the sound abruptly cuts out to illustrate the perspective of the students in a decisive moment. The audience in the theater was captivated—they enthusiastically applauded for the protestors at various times in the film.

Deaf President Now! is an important reminder of the power of protest and solidarity. It is impossible to watch this film and not consider recent protests on college campuses. Free speech of students has come under threat after new penalties and restrictions were put in place following the protests opposing the war in Gaza. The right to protest allows citizens to take an active role in their society. We should not take it away from anyone, even those we disagree with. As shown in the film, beliefs and opinions can change over time. We may find ourselves on the right side of history in one moment and be wrong in the next.

2,000 Meters to Andriivka

Directed by Mstyslav Chernov

This latest documentary by Mystlav Chernov is even more harrowing then his previous one. 20 Days in Mariupol won the Oscar in 2024 for Best Documentary Feature and captured the early days of the war mostly from the perspective of civilians under bombardment. 2,000 Meters to Andriivka is a much more difficult film to watch and focuses on soldiers worn out by years of fighting. Chernov follows a small brigade into various battles as they try to reclaim the village of Andriivka. Recapturing the village is part of the 2023 Ukrainian counteroffensive. Sometimes Chernov is on the ground with soldiers, but relies heavily on footage that was recorded on soldiers’ helmet cams. There is up close and chaotic footage of Ukrainian soldiers attacking the enemy and dying on screen.

Chernov has a strong anti-war message. He questions the largely superficial reasons for reclaiming Andriivka and other territories. The documentary emphasizes the futility and the high human cost of soldiers fighting to reclaim a completely ruined and uninhabited small village. This risky mission is actually very similar to the beginning of Stanley Kubrick’s 1957 anti-war film Paths of Glory about World War I. A French battalion of soldiers is ordered to capture a difficult territory because their side needs a win to boost morale. It becomes clear at the start of the fighting that most soldiers are likely to be slaughtered and they retreat. The key difference between this fiction film and the documentary is that some of the Ukrainian soldiers had not lost their faith in victory and continued fighting despite the immense loss of life.

But the documentary is brutal to the point where I was questioning why such excessive violence had to be witnessed to push forth an anti-war message. The public has been flooded with violent images and videos of the wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and I fear, as Susan Sontag warned, that their overuse has made us numb.1 The unrelenting violence in the documentary overwhelms any deep reflection and makes compassion difficult. Death is a reality of war, but when real deaths are captured on film and presented to an audience, new ethical concerns emerge. To capture a person’s final breaths is an incredibly shocking and intimate act. Whether you believe in an afterlife or not, the camera can steal the soul. That image or video can become the defining narrative of a person’s life. The soldiers who died on screen will be remembered as having lost their lives in a pointless battle for an abandoned village.

This year Independent Film Festival Boston has an impressive lineup of short documentary programs. I will be sharing more festival highlights in the upcoming weeks, but I wanted to first spotlight the Shorts Kenmore Documentary program that has an additional screening on Tuesday, April 29 at 8 PM. This eclectic program of four shorts is graceful and moving.

“Simple Machine” directed by Sara Hendren and “Signs from the Mainland” directed by Michael Cestaro offer new ways of looking at disability that are empowering. The participant in “Simple Machine" is an architect who has become an inventor. He creates unique tools and designs to help himself live more independently with only one arm. This also incorporated fascinating black and white archival footage that helped illustrate the science of machine components like the use of fulcrums and levers.

“Signs from the Mainland” follows Martha's Vineyard resident Jeffrey Mansfield as he researches the history of a formerly inclusive community where both deaf and hearing people spoke American Sign Language. Mansfield worked closely with director Cestaro on the project by giving input on the story and how to make the film more accessible to the deaf community. During the Q&A session Mansfield spoke about the need for more utopian stories to inspire people to action. I really appreciated this remark, because I feel strongly that utopian stories can help us create a better world. We shouldn't accept the dystopian aspects of our society as inevitable.

The most stylistically different documentary in the program was “London, KY” directed by Cody Duncum. It is a reflective film essay about the director’s childhood community and family. The choice of on screen text instead of spoken narration added a haunted feeling to the empty rooms, yards, and buildings that are shown throughout. At first I did not care for the mostly static long takes of deserted spaces, but as the text narration continued, I found this simple approach to be very effective in conveying a deep sadness around the loss of family, friends, and childhood places. The empty school, family home, and graveyard are a vision of the world moving on without us or our loved ones.

My favorite short was “The Reality of Hope” directed by Joe Hunting, because of its creative approach and unique subject matter. When Hiyu needs a kidney, his friend Photographotter offers to travel across the world to donate his own kidney. Most of the story takes place in a Virtual Reality (VR) setting called Furality, which Hiyu and other programmers created. This VR world has breathtaking fantasy landscapes and anthropomorphic avatars that represent real people that are part of this international online community. It reminded me of The Remarkable Life of Ibelin, screened at last year's festival, which was about Mats Steen and the friendships he built in The World of Warcraft. I was surprised by how emotional I felt watching the struggles and successes of anathromorphic avatars. So many stories highlight significant family and romantic relationships, but this documentary is a powerful example of how friendships and community can be just as meaningful in our lives.

Today marks the one year anniversary of The Subjective Observer. I am re-sharing my first published essay, “20 Days in Mariupol.” At the time I had about five subscribers, so many of you might not have read this piece. The documentary focuses on the early days of the war in Ukraine, but I think it is still essential viewing to understand the war. My article examines the documentary in the context of Susan Sontag’s book-length essay Regarding the Pain of Others, which asks important ethical questions about war photography.

The world has radically changed since my article was published in March 2024. A year ago military funding for Ukraine was being threatened by Republicans in Congress, but it was passed at the last minute. Today the situation is extremely dire. President Trump has openly voiced support for Vladimir Putin and called President Zelensky a dictator. US military support and intelligence was stopped.1

What hasn’t changed is the urgency to stay informed and to turn knowledge into action. Democracies across the globe are being threatened by misinformation. As my article explains, thoughtful narratives are struggling to compete against ruthless algorithms that favor fast and easy consumption. I greatly appreciate my readers who have taken the time to watch and reflect on the documentaries I’ve recommended. I strongly believe documentaries like 20 Days in Mariupol can have a powerful impact on the world, if only people would take the time to watch.

Thank you for your continued support and readership.

In Kaouther Ben Hania’s Four Daughters reenactments with actors and real life participants create an emotionally gripping narrative. The documentary tries to unravel the mystery as to why Olfa Hamrouni’s two eldest daughters Ghofrane and Rahma left home and joined ISIS.1 At her home in Tunisia Olfa is still raising her two younger teenage daughters Eya and Tayssir. To understand what might have led Ghofrane and Rahma to their shocking choice, Ben Hania stages reenactments of notable events in the family’s past.

Seeing Olfa, Eya, and Tayssir act in and sometimes direct scenes from their past make the reenactments exceptional and riveting. Ben Hania had originally planned on doing a more traditional observational and interview based documentary, but felt it was not quite working. From 2015 to 2016 Olfa and her daughters were widely covered in the media. Ben Hania wanted a deeper understanding than what was offered in news interviews. She decided to use reenactments because so many pivotal events were in the past and felt it would have greater emotional resonance.2

In her reenactments Olfa is an enigmatic figure – she challenges the patriarchy at times, but also enforces strict rules on her rebellious older daughters Rahma and Ghofrane. Sometimes Olfa plays herself, and in other scenes actress Hend Sabry fills in if Olfa feels she is unable to perform. Olfa recounts standing up to her first difficult husband. She tells stories of training to be able to be able fight back against any man. In downtime between scenes Olfa is seen joking with or hugging Eya and Tayssir. But also admits to being strict with her children – sometimes beating them for inappropriate dress or behavior.

Eya and Tayssir always play themselves and are eager to open up to Ben Hania. Eya is more critical of her mother than her younger sister Tayssir. It is clear she blames her mother for her older sisters’ choice to join ISIS. Tayssir is more reserved than her sister in interviews, but very lively in the reenactments. One of the most fascinating parts of the film is seeing them interact with the two actresses playing their sisters. Eya and Tayssir are elated as if they have their real sisters back. They often remark about how similar the actresses look or act to Rahma and Ghofrane. During downtime before a reenactment they laugh and dance together on rooftop. In another scene they openly discuss their periods to the horror of their mother who is standing nearby.

Eya and Tayssir are not trained actors, but their reenactments are intense and real. There is a unique resonance in watching someone recreate a pivotal moment from their past. It is not just about getting a glimpse of a past event, but seeing the emotional consequences in the present. In one scene Eya says she is fine and has gotten over a painful incident from a few years ago. She wants to act out an imagined confrontation with her mother’s ex-boyfriend. A male actor stands in for her mother’s ex-boyfriend in the scene. Eya insists that it is not a big deal anymore and has already discussed it with her therapist. But when the camera starts rolling, she starts to take things too far in the scene, and the actor asks that they stop shooting. This is one of several moments where it seems that the reenactments are impacting the participants in a much more profound way than they expected.

This type of approach is not without ethical concerns. In interviews Eya and Tayssir speak openly about discussing these issues with a therapist, but the viewer can see that reenacting some of their most painful experiences has a visceral emotional impact on them. Is reenacting these dramatic scenes good or bad? It could be argued Ben Hania is not being careful enough with her young participants and perhaps should have taken a less confrontational approach. Does such an intense resurrection of the past allow Eya and Tayssir to release these dark emotions? Or does it leave them ruminating endlessly? These questions might not be answered until years into their adulthood.

When I was in a documentary MFA program, similar questions often came up when discussing documentaries in which participants had clear psychological struggles. Some classmates argued that these participants should not have been in a documentary, and should have instead sought out therapy and medication. I agree that a documentarian should always put the physical and mental well-being of participants above any artistic or career ambition. But at the same time participants should be respected enough to make their own decisions. An artistic endeavor can’t substitute for professional care, but I disagree that medication and therapy are the only answer to every great emotional or personal difficulty. I would argue that these often inadequate and cold services would never be enough for Eya and Tayssir to overcome their past experiences. Every great tragedy in a person’s life can’t be simply resolved through pills or a therapist.

In The Poetics Aristotle argues people watch tragedies because they allow us to embrace painful emotions, and by doing so we can purge them from our system. It is difficult to judge the long term consequences of a powerful catharsis, but it is clear that Olfa, Eya, and Tayssir have a deep desire to fully experience and reckon with the past. The reenactments allow an emotional release that might not be possible in their normal day to day lives in a patriarchal society that is politically and emotionally repressive. By acting in and sometimes directing scenes from their past, Olfa and her daughters have greater control of their stories and a new freedom to express themselves.

*****
Four Daughters is available to stream for free through Kanopy in the United States and Canada. You can access Kanopy through your public library or university.

The world lost a great artist when David Lynch passed away. Like most fans I never met Lynch, but still felt a deep connection to his work. I am sad he did not have more time to create a few more thought-provoking and daring films. He is best known for directing Eraserhead, Mulholland Drive, Blue Velvet, Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, Lost Highway, Wild at Heart, The Elephant Man, Inland Empire, and the TV series Twin Peaks that he co-created with Mark Frost.1

Lynch created a unique surrealistic style that gives the viewer a significant amount of freedom in interpreting his work. For years Lynch held out on offering any explanations. In the documentary The Art Life, he made clear he wanted his creations to be open to interpretation.2 This has created a cult following of fans, scholars, and podcasters all seeking to decipher a meaning. They have offered radically different theories and interpretations. Some of the most heated debates have been over the TV series Twin Peaks. Last summer I joined the Twin Peaks cult – delving into the books, re-watching the series, and writing about Lynch and the show.

For me the heart of the show was a critique of the darkness underneath the façade of the American Dream and the ideal of the nuclear family. Twin Peaks is a picturesque small town, but it is plagued by drugs and domestic violence. There is a powerful evil supernatural force from another dimension referred to as The Black Lodge. But whether that dimension is a real place or a representation of the depth of the human psyche is up for debate. I have often thought of Twin Peaks: The Return after Trump’s re-election. The atmosphere of unease and decay that pervades the aging town is similar to what I feel now. And yet people causally go about their business as the world falls apart.

Part of my admiration for Lynch came from his insistence on following his own artistic vision without regard for profits or popular opinion. When the film Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me was first released in 1992, it was almost universally hated by critics and angered many fans of the TV series. But years later, opinions have drastically changed. It is now seen as a groundbreaking and powerful psychological portrait. Early fans of the film have spoken of how deeply it impacted them, because at the time there were almost no major films that captured the unique terror of domestic and sexual abuse.3

Many of Lynch’s characters suffered extreme psychological distress, but in real life Lynch was dedicated to helping people heal from past trauma. He co-founded the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and World Peace. The foundation funds Transcendental Meditation programs for schools, veterans, and at risk-communities. Transcendental Meditation had a huge impact on Lynch’s creative life and public outreach efforts. The documentary Shadows of Paradise follows Lynch across the globe as he tries to promote the power of meditation, which he believed could change lives for the better.

It is accurate to describe Lynch films and shows as dark and surreal, but there are also images of great beauty, loveable eccentrics, and challenging puzzles that add to the richness of his work. I remember watching Jack Nance in Eraserhead and trying to understand the scenes by watching his strange or panicked expressions. The world seems to shift between his character’s dreary life with a monster baby and a fantasy night club hidden in the furnace of his apartment. As soon as the film finished, I felt I needed to watch it again. But that is the joy of a great film: it is never the same on repeated viewings, and there always new discoveries to be made.

Thank you David Lynch and rest in peace.

For my last article of 2024, I wanted to highlight not just my favorite documentaries of the year, but some of the books, podcasts, and performances that had the biggest impact on me. Most of my selections came out in 2024 with the exception of my favorite fiction and non-fiction book.

Documentaries

No Other Land

Directed by Yuval Abraham, Basel Adra, Hamdan Ballal, and Rachel Szor

Dahomey

Directed by Mati Diop

The Remarkable Life of Ibelin

Directed by Benjamin Ree

After watching dozens of documentaries this year, I felt I couldn’t pick just one to be “the best.” My top three here are extremely different stylistically, but impactful and moving. No Other Land is a masterful work that directly takes on one of the most pressing political issues – the Israeli government’s occupation of the West Bank. Despite the harsh reality it shows, the Palestinian and Israeli filmmaking team and friendships shown offer cause for hope. Dahomey is an otherworldly piece that has narration from the perspective of sacred treasures that were stolen by French colonists from the Kingdom of Dahomey (now Benin). The documentary follows their return and reception in Benin. Read my TIFF Highlights article to learn more about both documentaries.

The Remarkable Life Ibelin uses animation to show the secret online life of Mats Steen (alias Ibelin) in the World of War Craft. Steen has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy that confines him to a wheelchair and severely restricts his mobility. The film raises important existential questions about what it means to live a good life when disability profoundly impacts you.

Fiction Film: The Beast

Directed by Bertrand Bonello

This is a great film for anyone who loves thoughtful science-fiction. The story takes place across different eras. In each time period the same man and woman meet each other. It is a beautiful and frightening story that I think is an important warning about the dangers of AI trying to control and dehumanize us.

The film is based on the Henry James short story “The Beast in the Jungle.” I haven’t read the story yet, but my partner says the film is both the loosest and best adaption of a short story he has seen. I hesitate to say more because there are a lot surprises.

Podcast: In The Dark

In The Dark has consistently produced some of the best investigative podcasts. Unlike other “true crime” series, this podcast is not sensationalist or formulaic. Instead it focuses on a crime as a way of critiquing the broader justice system in the United States. Investigative work on their second season helped bring the case of Curtis Flowers to the Supreme Court after he was tried for the same crime six times by the same prosecutor in Mississippi.1

Their third season investigated the 2006 mass killing of 24 civilians in Haditha, Iraq by U.S. marines. The event at the time was compared to the infamous 1968 My Lai Massacre in Vietnam. But all the soldiers involved in 2006 were later acquitted. Host Madeleine Baran and the investigative team piece together military files, track down witnesses, and uncover new evidence to figure out exactly what happened on the day of the mass killing. This is a challenging story and many Americans have refused to reflect on the lasting impacts of the Iraq War.

Along with the audio element of the podcast, they also created an interactive documentary called Cleared by Fire that offers detailed illustrations paired with witness accounts from the podcast.

All episodes are available to listen to for free: https://www.newyorker.com/season-3

Fiction Book: All is Forgotten, Nothing is Lost by Lan Samantha Chang

The novel follows two friends, Roman and Bernard, throughout their lives beginning with the consequential years of a graduate poetry program and continuing to follow them as they age. Roman is ambitious and always trying to climb the ladder of success. Bernard is obsessed with working on one masterpiece poem. Throughout their lives the meaning of those experiences in grad school changes. One of the fundamental questions this novel raises is what does it mean to be a successful artist? Is it financial and public recognition or simply creating meaningful work?

This short novel has stuck with me, and I highly recommend it to anyone who recently finished an MFA and is feeling a bit lost in life. I finished an MFA in documentary in 2023, and I’ve reflected a lot on how time in grad school will fit into the narrative of my own life. I haven’t come to any conclusions yet.

Non-Fiction Book: The Dialectic of Sex by Shulamith Firestone

I read Firestone’s 1970 book for an essay I wrote on the short documentary Shulie, and found it to be a riveting and still timely read. It is a radical book and I don’t endorse all of Firestone’s ideas, but I think that her questions about the problems with the nuclear family and modern childbirth are still important and should be discussed more openly.

Graphic Novel: My Favorite Thing is Monsters Volume 2 by Emil Ferris

I have been eagerly waiting for this second book for years, and was happy it did not disappoint. My Favorite Thing is Monsters follows teenager Karen Reyes as she navigates a tumultuous environment in 1960s Chicago. The story focuses on the strange and dangerous adults in Karen’s life and her quest to solve the murder of her mysterious neighbor Anka Silverberg. Karen is obsessed with comic book and movie monsters, so her view of the world and depiction of adults is shaped by that. Ferris’s drawings are beautiful graphite and colored pencil on lined notebook paper. The details are truly stunning and much more complex than you’d typically find in a graphic novel.

This is a mature story that is not just for young adults. Karen is often confronted with violence and poverty in her surrounding neighborhood, but tries to see the good in her neighbors. A large part of volume two is about Karen’s struggles with grief and how to reckon with family and friends whose actions are morally questionable.

Best Performance: Leopoldstadt
by Tom Stoppard

This production directed by Carey Perloff at the Huntington Theatre Company was excellent and deeply moving. Leopoldstadt is a fictional story about the triumphs and hardships of an Austrian Jewish family from 1899 to 1955. The play was inspired by Tom Stoppard’s own family history. Stoppard found out later in life that he was Jewish and that many of his family members had died in the Holocaust.

The entire cast gave strong performances, but Nael Nacer carried the show as Hermann, the gentle patriarch of the family. Nacer is one of Boston’s best actors, and in this role his depth of humanity and subtle choices were effective and resonant. Seeing the incredible challenges and loss the family experiences is gut-wrenching and powerful. It is an important reminder of how past historical events continue to impact the living.

***

THANK YOU!

Thank you readers for a great first year of The Subjective Observer! I have really appreciated your support and hearing your thoughts. In 2025 I look forward to attending more festivals and hopefully starting a new short documentary.

“Shulie” is a profile of art student Shulamith Firestone. She is a painter and photographer about to graduate from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC). The documentary was made by a group of Northwestern University students, Jerry Blumenthal, Sheppard Ferguson, James Leahy, and Alan Rettig, in 1967. It is a typical artist profile – it follows the subject in her daily life, and as she creates. Firestone gives her thoughts on her work and challenging living situation. She wants to make her mark as an artist in the world. At first this might seem like just another short artist profile, but it is an intimate look at an important feminist right before her revolutionary transformation.

Shulamith Firestone was a Canadian-American writer and activist. She was most active in the 1970s when she wrote prolifically and was one of the leaders of the New York Radical Feminists (NYRF). She is best known for her 1970 book The Dialectic of Sex: The Case for Feminist Revolution, which was a political text that called for major changes to society to ensure equality. After a falling out with the NYRF, Firestone suffered a serious mental health crisis. She was institutionalized and diagnosed with schizophrenia. For years she battled with severe mental illness until her death in 2012.  Tragically, several other feminist leaders from that time also descended into poverty or mental illness.1

Above is the 1967 documentary “Shulie” in its entirety. It is 27 minutes.

“Shulie” provides a glimpse into the life and experiences that may have shaped some of Firestone’s most notable ideas. Firestone commented on unfair labor practices at work and how dehumanizing modern work could be. This is well illustrated in the stark wide shots of the bustling yet grey dreary city and Firestone’s mundane work at the post office. Firestone would later argue that the nuclear family helped support class oppression.2 One of the most notable scenes is when an all-male faculty panel critiques Firestone’s paintings and photographs. They are not mean or overly critical, but seem not to understand Firestone’s art at all. There is a chapter in The Dialectic of Sex that examines how art and culture are determined and shaped by the male gaze.3

For many years this documentary was impossible to find and almost completely unknown. It received new attention when filmmaker Elisabeth Subrin decided to recreate the entire documentary shot for shot. Subrin’s “Shulie” came out in 1997 and is impressive in its extreme attention to detail. The actor playing Firestone is natural and convincing. But when I watched the 1967 and 1997 films back-to-back, Subrin’s version feels like a soulless imitation. The failure of the copy is most evident in the scene in which an all-male faculty panel is critiquing Firestone’s paintings. In the 1967 version, this scene is subtle and riveting as the tension between Firestone and the faculty is evident. In the 1997 version some of the faculty actors are a bit over the top, and here it is most apparent that we are not witnessing “real life.”

In my opinion, it was a missed opportunity to engage more fully with Firestone’s ideas and complicated biography. Critics and Subrin say it is a commentary on how little has changed for women since the 1960s.4 That is an arguable critique, but reenactments could have been used in a much more creative and bold way to engage with the present. Why not show Firestone as a fully matured and politically active woman at the height of her political strength? There are a few brief written narrations (not in the 1967 version) that explain Firestone’s career and contributions to the feminist movement, but they are not sufficient. Subrin’s piece is notable for its artistry, but it is cold and academic.

After viewing both versions, I was an interested to read some of Firestone’s works, starting with The Dialectic of Sex. It is very much steeped in American culture and politics of the 1960s, but I still found it to be a riveting book with ideas relevant to today. Unlike other theory books, it is smart but not bogged down in academic jargon or pretentiousness. Some of the ideas that stood out to me were Firestone’s critiques of the societal role of families and how children are raised. She advocated that children be raised in a gender-neutral way in order to lead to greater equality in all public and private spaces. Firestone argues against the nuclear family and instead for small groups raising children collectively.5 The collective and public upbringing of children has been embraced by many utopian works of literature—most notably in Plato’s Republic and B.F. Skinner’s Walden II—the idea being that children are brought up in a strong community and their lives are not dramatically shaped by the good or bad quality of their parents.

Firestone’s most prominent argument is that equality will not be possible until women are no longer vessels for reproduction. This does not simply mean access to birth control and abortion. She argues more radically that all human births could be done artificially. Carrying a child for nine months and giving birth is extremely exhausting, painful, and sometimes life-threatening. Artificial child birth would equalize the creation of children – a woman would not have to sacrifice her body for nine months and then risk her life to give birth.6 If this became an acceptable practice today, then it would make it much easier for same-sex couples and those struggling with infertility to have children. If it were widely available to the population, then it would remove a huge physical and emotional burden from those who would otherwise have to work full time throughout their entire pregnancy.

The idea of babies being made in a lab may conjure images of sci-fi dystopias like Brave New World, and of course there are ethical risks whenever science and capitalism mix. But I would argue that the current state of affairs is far more dystopian. It is 2024 and women across the globe still live under oppressive regimes that severely restrict their existence, such as in Iran and Afghanistan. Women in several African countries still do not have adequate access to birth control and education. In the United States abortion rights are under threat and currently determined by individual states. In rich democracies with declining birth rates there has been an obnoxious avalanche of think pieces lamenting population decline and trying to pressure women to reproduce. The global trend has been that the more educated women are, the less likely they are to have children. This trend is only likely to continue, even if policies are put in place to help families economically.7

Women in the United States have made great strides in education and financial independence, but this has not been without backlash. The internet is a cesspool of hateful attacks against women in every profession. Threats and sexist insults that used to be just from “the trolls” are now acceptable in the mainstream. Trump’s open misogyny and sexual abuse charge were not seen as disqualifying. The campaign loved insulting and talking down to women. Harris almost never mentioned her race and gender, but the Trump campaign brought them up constantly to denigrate her intelligence and qualifications.

Voters knew all about Trump’s actions and amoral behavior, and yet voted for him anyways. Many used the bad economy to justify their choice. There is no denying the economy is bad and has been unfair to the working class for years. But in the aftermath of the far more widespread recession of 2007-2009, and the Great Depression of the 1930s, American voters did not elect a strongman or conservative. There is no nationwide survey that can be conducted to figure out if sexism played a part in voters’ minds. But now two exceptionally qualified women have both lost to one of the most hateful and fascist candidates ever to run for president. In 1970 Firestone argued that “men can’t love,” because our society made them incapable of it. Men would never give up power for the sake of love.8 I don’t share this opinion of men, but I think that some people will always choose power above all else.

This November will mark the 25^th anniversary of the release of American Movie (1999) directed by Chris Smith; this documentary is a timeless story of a struggling filmmaker and remains a poignant critique of the American Dream. It is about a working class filmmaker, Mark Borchardt, living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. At first he attempts to make a feature that is a semi-autobiographical drama, Northwestern, but then decides to complete his horror short “Coven” first. The film follows the ups and downs of his filmmaking attempts over the course of two years.

What makes this documentary remarkable is that it manages to be both incredibly funny and heartbreaking. It recognizes the absurdity of situations while still respecting Borchardt’s artistic goals and personal struggles. Borchardt has big ideas and real talent, but very little resources. I found myself laughing out loud during several scenes – especially when the rag-tag actors and crew are quickly assembled in the dead of winter, or an actor has to redo a stunt several times in which his head is pushed through a cabinet. Actors and crew members are interviewed throughout and seem to respect Borchardt, but they admit he can be demanding, and they don’t always understand what is happening on set. This may seem like an anomaly in the filmmaking process, but anyone who has worked on a no budget film knows that it can become very difficult to keep everything “on track” and “professional” without a full crew or resources.

The documentary filmmakers stay with Borchardt during the pauses in his film production, and these scenes are some of the darkest. When Borchardt is drinking a beer on set, it’s laughable at first. But a later scene, when he becomes drunk during a family Super Bowl party, illustrates that it is real problem. One day the filmmakers arrive and Borchardt is too depressed to get out of bed. Borchardt’s brothers are interviewed at various points, and say they see no value in his work. His brother Alex says he expected Borchardt to just work at a local factory. His brother Chris says he thought Borchardt might have become a “mass murderer.” These scenes show beneath Borchardt’s humorous and eccentric façade that he leads a rather bleak and demeaning home life.  

But Borchardt is able to persevere and his successes are documented as well. The amateur actors and crew are easy to laugh at, but the documentary showcases their loyalty and hard work as well – especially when several people work into the night splicing together the final film cut of “Coven.” Throughout the documentary brief clips of “Coven” are shown on screen, and it is clear that Borchardt is not delusional and does have real talent – the cinematography is artistic and well composed and the story is effectively unsettling.

The documentary doesn’t show the entire completed film, so I highly recommend watching “Coven,” afterwards. It is only 36 minutes, and is meaningful to watch after seeing Borchardt’s struggles to complete it. Borchardt wrote, directed, and stars in the film. He plays an alcoholic who suspects his AA group of being an evil cult. The desolate landscapes in harsh black and white are impactful. The hooded figures that appear are simple but menacing. Throughout American Movie Borchardt is often seen drinking, while his friend his Mike Schank has chosen sobriety after struggles with addiction. Alcoholism is never discussed explicitly in American Movie, but “Coven” explores how addiction impacts perception and relationships. Most of the acting is amateurish, but Borchardt is authentic and captivating on screen. He seems to be playing a slightly different version of himself. It is a thoughtful film and the frightening scenes often emphasize the inner turmoil of the protagonist. The best American horror, in my opinion, critiques our society, and addiction has continued to plague communities across the country.1

Many people can still identify with Borchardt’s struggle to achieve the American Dream. He is not a formally educated person, but is intelligent and extremely knowledgeable about film history. What if Borchardt had been born into a wealthier family? What if he had been able to attend college? Throughout the film Borchardt begs his elderly uncle for financial help, and his uncle seems very resistant. In one scene Borchardt tries to explain to his uncle that he is working as hard as possible to achieve his American Dream, and that someday he’ll be a big success.

This delusion of grandeur is pervasive in American culture. It’s assumed any “real” filmmaker will go to Hollywood and make a lot of money if they want to be considered a success. I know people who have moved to Los Angeles to seek fame and fortune. A few did find success (not riches), but many lost all their money and had to move back to Massachusetts. I know several talented filmmakers who would make incredible films if they just had a little extra money. Instead they are working low-wage jobs and applying endlessly for the limited crew and post-production positions that might offer a temporary reprieve. A majority of film work is contract based. All success is transient if you can’t immediately line up the next gig.

But unlike most working class filmmakers, Borchardt was fortunate enough to have his life masterfully captured in American Movie, and it was a huge hit when it was released in 1999. The documentary’s popularity brought some success to Borchardt, but it was probably not what he expected. In 2000 Borchardt was hired by David Letterman to do election coverage and appeared in several humorous updates. He also played himself on an episode of Family Guy in 2006. Borchardt went on to act in several independent projects and directed a short documentary, “The Dundee Project” (2017), but none of these projects seemed to have the same depth as “Coven” or Northwestern.2  As of this writing, Northwestern is still unfinished.

Today, instead of thousands of Borchardts with film cameras, there are millions of people with phone cameras competing against one another on social media to somehow hit the jackpot – become viral, get sponsorships, and escape a lifetime of drudgery. The basis of the American Dream is the belief that hard work will eventually pay off and lead to success. Since 1999 economic inequality has dramatically increased in the United States. Anyone can “make a film” on their phone, but only a lucky few will get access to the resources and connections to create quality films that are seen by a mass audience. American capitalism is designed to have only a few winners and many losers. Most of the losers will live quiet lives of obscurity and disappointment, but a rare few will have their broken dreams immortalized in a documentary.

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Stream American Movie on Amazon Prime or The Internet Archive.

Stream “Coven” at Rarefilmm

Nothing Left Undone: The Art of G

Director Matthew Ober’s Nothing Left Undone: The Art of G is an engaging and thoughtful profile of Philadelphia artist Glenn Kellum, who goes by the name G. G’s work is a colorful combination of collage, sculpture, and painting. Throughout the film G reflects on the meaning of his art, but also opens up about the challenges he has faced.

G has found it difficult to make a living off his art, but is persistent and has created a large body of work. He speaks about how he and other Black artists are just beginning to gain recognition in the art world, but he also thinks that change is not coming fast enough. At age 74 he still feels he hasn’t yet “made it” despite some recognition and success. This sense of insecurity is most prominent when he is setting up for a gallery exhibition and is worried that his artist bio is not good enough. He is sharing an exhibition with a professor and feels out of place at times.

The cinematography, subtle score, and pacing capture G’s unique style and fit the rhythm of his thoughts. Unlike other artist profiles, this is not merely a promotional piece for an artist’s work. The documentary stands out for its intimacy and grace in capturing G in moments of reflection and vulnerability.

Watch for free on YouTube.

Coral Gardeners

This cinematic and inspirational documentary directed by Jon Bowermaster is a beautiful portrait of coral reefs in The Maldives and their protectors. The Republic of Maldives is an independent nation that consists of roughly 1,200 small islands in the north-central Indian Ocean. It is highly vulnerable to sea-level rise and increasing ocean temperatures. The documentary focuses on The Sovena Foundation in collaboration with local officials as they work to restore coral reefs. A team of scuba divers known as coral gardeners grow a strain of heat resistant coral in labs and then replant them in ocean areas that are struggling. Breathtaking scenes of colorful fish swimming amongst coral reefs are intercut with informative and passionate interviews. There are interviews with former President Mohamed Nasheed and several leaders of the Sovena Foundation, but the most memorable moments were with the young divers who voiced having a new sense of hope and purpose from their work.

Watching this film was an important reminder of the thousands of creative solutions that are available right now to tackle climate change. It is easy to become discouraged in the face of climate catastrophes and government inaction, but Coral Gardeners is an important reminder that citizens can still take meaningful action in their communities.

Upcoming Screenings

I have an international readership, but I know a handful of readers reside in New England, so I wanted to recommend some upcoming screenings and releases.

Recovery City

Saturday, October 26 at 4:30 PM
Brattle Theatre, Cambridge MA

Recovery City directed by Lisa Olivieri is an empowering documentary about women recovering from addiction in Worcester, Massachusetts. It will be screening in the Globe Docs Film Festival. If you haven’t already, then read my review of Recovery City from when it screened at The Shawna Shea Film Festival in July 2024.

Silent Scary Movies

Now through October 30^th
Multiple Events
For the next few weeks Jeff Rapsis will be performing live piano accompaniment to scary silent film classics like Nosferatu and Phantom of the Opera across New England. Click here for the complete schedule. Over the years I have attended many of Rapsis’s screenings; they are always lively and memorable! I plan to see the Lon Chaney Halloween Creepfest special on October 30^th at 7 PM at The Rex Theatre in Manchester, NH.

The Remarkable Life of Ibelin

Friday October 25
Stream on Netflix

Director Benjamin Ree uses animation to convey the complex inner life of Norwegian gamer Mats Steen in the World of Warcraft. If you haven’t already, then check out my review of the film from when it screened at IFFBoston in May.

This fast-paced political documentary directed by Ruth Leitman is a wild road trip across the United States and dramatic lead-up to Dobbs v. Jackson in 2022, which struck down the constitutional right to an abortion. It spans 2017 to June 2022 and follows Lizz Winstead (co-creator of The Daily Show) and her team with Abortion Access Front as they travel across the country protesting, performing, and providing assistance to abortion clinics.1

Winstead serves as a central figure and advocate. She is the leader of Abortion Access Front (AAF) and is often informing the viewer on the fallout from the latest abortion access restriction or Supreme Court appointee. Similar to Michael Moore’s films, she serves as both a participant and narrator in the documentary, but does not dominate the story. Winstead introduces us to a strong and fascinating ensemble of comedians, activists, and clinic workers. This rich mosaic of people from across the country represents the reality of political movements, which are powered by large and diverse groups.

The first part of the documentary focuses on “The Vagical Mystery Tour,” which features a handful of prominent and up-and-coming comedians who perform raunchy and political routines. At each stop on their tour they help assist or fix up an abortion clinic during the day and offer a comedy show at night. Interspersed throughout are short digital videos by AAF that challenge the obstacles and stigma of abortion. One notable sketch includes Sarah Silverman and Jesus discussing the Bible. Winstead and others state that they see humor as an effective tool for bringing attention to abortion access and encouraging political action.

The theatrical approach of AAF is not new, but part of a long tradition of performance as protest. When the protestors came out with giant heads of the Supreme Court Justices, it was reminiscent of the Bread & Puppet Theatre, a political puppetry troupe based in Vermont that is known for its giant headed figures. In another scene it was jarring to see a protestor in a vagina costume get arrested, but it was memorable and might be necessary in a brutally competitive media environment. Other feminist activist groups have used creative tactics to bring attention to their cause. The Guerilla Girls is an anonymous art collective in the United States that stages protests and art exhibitions. Russian activists formed the punk rock band Pussy Riot as a way to criticize the Putin regime through music.2

The most notable comparison would be to ACT UP (The Aids Coalition to Unleash Power) in the 1980s and 1990s. They staged die-ins, disrupted broadcasts, and committed acts of civil disobedience to bring urgent attention to the AIDS epidemic. At the time ACT UP was seen as radical and confrontational, but today their tactics are viewed as being successful in pressuring elected officials to fund life-saving AIDS research and medication.3 It is clear from their rambunctious protests and provocative sketches that AAF is using a similar approach to fight for abortion access.

The protest scenes in No One Asked You are engaging and entertaining, but some of the most powerful moments are with the abortion clinic workers. AAF visits clinics across the country in states such as Texas, Tennessee, Michigan, Kentucky, Alabama, and Mississippi. Some of the most powerful stories come from Renee Chelian, whose abortion experience at age 15 led to a lifetime of advocacy for reproductive freedom. She is the founder of Northland Family Planning Centers in Detroit Michigan. In an interview with Winstead, Chelian describes having to train staff on how to manage threats of violence from anti-abortion extremists. Abortion clinics and doctors have been the target of violence for decades. The last mass shooting in connection to this issue was at a Planned Parenthood in Colorado Springs in 2015. Three people were killed and eight others were wounded.4

Despite its happy warriors and many jokes, the documentary has a handful of somber scenes that reflect on this dark reality. The film frequently returns to The Jackson Women’s Health Clinic in Mississippi. This is the clinic in the Dobbs v. Jackson Supreme Court case. In 2018 Jackson Women’s Health Clinic challenged the state’s 15 week abortion ban.5 Co-director of the clinic Derenda Hancock is a seasoned professional who shields patients from the anti-abortion protestors. She is a brave woman with grit, but like many of the clinic workers interviewed throughout she seems exhausted. Witnessing the situation get increasing dire at the clinic is painful, but the staff’s persistence is inspiring. Leitman brings important attention to people like Hancock all over the country, who often receive no thanks for the delicate and sometimes dangerous work they do.

It is bold and refreshing to see abortion access addressed with humor and compassion. Using humor to challenge unjust laws and oppressors removes some of their power. Laughter amidst great challenges can also give people courage. But most importantly, the film is a testament to the necessity of grassroots organizing and the dedication of everyday citizens to ensure abortion access. In 2024 abortion has become one of the most important issues of the US presidential election.  No One Asked You is a powerful motivator to not just vote, but to also advocate, organize, and protest proudly for reproductive freedom.

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Click here to find public screenings of No One Asked You or watch online on Jolt starting October 25, 2024.

Screened at the Toronto International Film Festival September 9 to September 13, 2024.

It is difficult to make a film under ordinary circumstances, but it is truly exceptional to create one in an active war zone. This showcase of shorts includes fiction, documentary, and experimental works from twenty-two filmmakers living in Gaza. Some of the directors were experienced professionals while others were creating a film for the first time. All were made with the assistance of the Masharawi Film Fund, which offers training and financial support to Palestinian filmmakers.   

This collection contains a wide range of perspectives and creative approaches. We get to see up close the challenges of daily life – gathering water, struggling to charge a phone, and watching the sky for bombs. A number of films highlighted the experiences of children during wartime. The shorts that stood out to me were the documentaries about artists and their struggle to find a sense of purpose in extreme circumstances.

In “Sorry Cinema” director Ahmad Hassouna mourns the loss of his passion for filmmaking. His thoughtful narration reflects on how dramatically his life has changed in a short amount of time. Before the current conflict his life was completely focused on directing. Several clips from his fiction films and behind-the-scenes work are shown. These are in stark contrast to the ruins he searches through for firewood. He feels his creative spark is gone because his life is now consumed by survival. During a Q&A session after the screening, the project’s producer Rashid Masharawi told the story of how difficult it was to convince Hassouna to participate. Hassouna had mostly done fiction films and felt he could not make a short fiction film in such challenging conditions. But their discussions on filmmaking during wartime convinced Hassouna to create this poignant documentary.1

In “Soft Skin,” directed by Khamees Masharawi, art offers some reprieve to children. A group of young kids worked together to create stop animation scenes with paper to tell stories from their lives. They depict drones frequently flying overhead and bombings of their city. One young girl talks about how she washed off her name that her mother had inscribed on her arm and leg because it frightened her. This practice is widely done by parents to help identify their children’s bodies. Although these stories are heart-wrenching, the children still find brief moments of joy – they play together and seem happy to be working on an art project. An animation workshop can’t solve their most pressing basic needs, but it is at least a safe space where they can express their fears and thoughts.

Some artists are determined to continue their work no matter what. In Nidal Damo’s “Everything is Fine,” a local comedian goes to different encampments in the community to perform. It begins with him feeding a large group of cats. He goes through extraordinary lengths to get a shower, so that he can be presentable to his audiences. There is some dark humor about the absurdity of his situation, but overall this piece is still hopeful. These small gestures are difficult with little food and resources, but the comedian manages to be a lifeline to stray cats and bring laughter to his neighbors.  In “No,” director Hana Awad searches for a story that will bring hope. Awad says she will not to tell another story of suffering or death, and that she refuses to give up her sense of optimism. In her search she finds a group of musicians who perform for communities and children. Scenes of the musicians laughing and singing with children are deeply moving in such dangerous circumstances. One of the musicians says she will not give into despair and will continue to say “no” to injustice and accepting the situation.

There is an absence of direct political messaging about the war in Gaza, but I would argue that these shorts can be just as powerful in helping advocate for a ceasefire. To create art in a war zone is an act of defiance and refusal to give up one’s humanity. Instead of hearing hateful rhetoric from opposing sides or staggering death statistics, we get a unique view into the lives of ordinary civilians told in their own voices. Too often Palestinians have been dehumanized and seen only in the context of a larger geopolitical conflict. These intimate stories illustrate that Palestinians are not radically different from anyone else. They have hopes, dreams, and families, and should have the right to safety and self-determination. 

To learn more about all twenty-two films, you can visit https://www.masharawifilms.org/from-ground-zero/.

This year’s Toronto International Film Festival had a stellar selection of documentaries, and my only regret is that I couldn’t see more of them! I did make an effort to watch a few fiction films as well, but they could not compete. It is hard to switch to fiction after seeing a handful of deeply personal and quiet moments in documentaries like The Freedom of Fierro and A Sisters’ Tale. Both films took years to make, but their patience paid off in these moving and intimate profiles.

No Other Land and Dahomey are two documentaries that have radically different approaches, but make powerful political statements. They are a testament to how creative and personal storytelling can bring pathos and new understanding to complex histories.

Below are my thoughts on A Sisters’ Tale, Dahomey, and No Other Land. In the following weeks I’ll be publishing more in-depth pieces on The Freedom of Fierro and From Ground Zero.

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A Sisters’ Tale

Directed by Leila Amini
92 minutes

This intimate documentary follows Nasreen Amini over seven years as she pursues her dream to become a singer in Iran, where it is illegal for women to sing in public. The director and cinematographer is Nasreen’s sister Leila Amini. Such full access allowed for several subtle and pivotal moments to be caught on camera. In a handful of scenes late at night, Nasreen confides to Leila about her marriage struggles and sense of failure. Later in the film, Nasreen’s son is worried about his sister in the hospital, and he breaks down crying. Leila is filming him and struggles to hold the camera and comfort him. The camera turns away, but some of the dialogue is still heard. These private family scenes are authentic and moving. Leila is never onscreen, but the bond between the two sisters can be felt.

On the surface the documentary appears to be a domestic drama, but much like Henrik Ibsen’s play A Doll’s House, the story of one woman’s home life has political implications. Nasreen at the beginning of the documentary is similar to the character Nora. At first Nasreen seems to have a normal and happy life as a housewife, but as viewers we come to see gradually how oppression has severely limited her. Differing views on how women should behave and be treated in private and public are the main source of conflict for Nasreen in her family. To pursue her dream of becoming a singer Nasreen must do so secretly and take great risks. A Sisters’ Tale is an impactful feminist story of one woman’s pursuit of her dreams and freedom.  

Dahomey

Directed by Mati Diop
68 minutes

Spirits from the past speak in this powerful documentary about the return of 26 artifacts to Benin. Dahomey was an African kingdom that existed from approximately 1600 to 1904 (before the arrival of colonizers), within present-day Benin. The documentary follows the objects, which include statues of leaders, small carved figurines, and talismans that were used in spiritual ceremonies, as they travel from a Paris museum to their first public reception at a museum in Benin. Voice-over from the point of view of the artifacts is used sparingly, but the presence of these otherworldly beings is felt throughout. The ethereal score and sometimes moody cinematography create a ghostly feeling of being watched.

Dahomey finds just the right balance between the sacred and political. After the artifacts arrive in Benin, the documentary frequently cuts back to a public forum in which young people are debating what it means for the artifacts to be returned. Some argue it is a sign of progress, while others say it is insult to only receive only 26 out of thousands of sacred objects that were looted. When the citizens of Benin attend the welcoming museum reception for the objects, the cinematographer is able to capture several quiet moments of awe and reverence. This creative approach paired with thoughtful observational footage offer us a unique understanding into how the past still impacts the present. By personifying the artifacts, it makes clear that the strength, rituals, and history of Dahomey still have meaning to the people Benin, and demand to be reckoned with. 

No Other Land

Directed by Yuval Abraham, Basel Adra, Hamdan Ballal, and Rachel Szor
95 minutes

No Other Land is a gripping narrative of activism and friendship. The story follows two young men, Basel Adra and Yuval Abraham, from 2019 to 2023 as they try to document the evictions of the Yasafer Yatta villagers in the West Bank. Adra is a Palestinian activist whose family has a long history of activism in the area. His father is seen as a community leader. Yuval is a progressive Israeli journalist hoping his reporting will help bring attention to the forceful removals. This documentary could have simply focused on political messaging, but its self-reflection and the participation of the filmmakers make it a more complex and personal story.

A large part of the film is Adra’s and Abraham’s struggle to bring attention to the evictions through their work. Adra attends and organizes protests and then uploads several videos onto social media trying to gain support, but is having a difficult time building an audience. Abraham is continually disappointed when he publishes articles that are not read by many and don’t seem to be making an impact. There are quiet moments between Adra and Abraham when they question the purpose of their work and wonder if it makes any difference. I appreciated the honesty of these scenes because it highlights a common struggle of activists to get their message heard and how difficult it can be not to give into despair after losses.   

Slowly we see Adra and Abraham change from colleagues to good friends, but the difference in status between the two is always there. Abraham is able to travel freely and Adra cannot. Adra has a law degree but works at his father’s gas station. As a Palestinian he feels he would only be considered for construction work outside of the West Bank. Abraham tries to assure his Palestinian friends that he is on their side, but sometimes they are skeptical. He is also portrayed as a traitor by hard-right Israelis because he openly advocates for Palestinian rights. But despite these differences the two friends continue to work together and support one another. Their lives highlight the inequality between Palestinians and Israelis, but their friendship is a powerful example of what peace and reconciliation could look like.

WARNING: This contains discussion of sexual assault and gives away important plot elements of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me.

When it was released in 1992, many critics and fans hated David Lynch’s Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (FWWM). It has some characters and story elements of Seasons 1 and 2, but lacks the silly humor and sentimentality of the show. When I first saw the film almost ten years ago, I felt a similar disappointment. It was a grotesque and more violent rendering of the beloved show. But years later, when I saw it a second time, I have come to appreciate it as a bold and thought-provoking narrative. Unlike the TV series, it is a unique look into the complex inner life of Laura Palmer.

The film is a prequel to the TV series, and shows the events that led up to the murder of high school student Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee). The film begins in a similar way to the TV show, but with a different murder victim and different pair of FBI agents. For the first twenty minutes, the film is more of an FBI story, following Agent Chet Desmond, and with a brief appearance by Special Agent Dale Cooper. But after this, most of the film takes place in Twin Peaks and is largely from the perspective of Laura Palmer in the days leading up to her death.

Before the release of FWWM, The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer was published in 1990. It came out in between Seasons 1 and 2 of the TV series. The Secret Diary was written by David Lynch’s daughter, Jennifer Lynch, when she was 22. She was given a few guidelines about what not to reveal and clues to leave about Laura’s murderer, but otherwise was able to write what she wanted.1 The style of writing is authentic and natural and has classic elements of coming of age literature for young women. Laura notices changes in her body and starts to question the world. She also begins experimenting with sex and drugs. But unlike other coming of age narratives, there is the frequent presence of BOB.  In the TV series he is known as an evil entity from the dark underworld/alternate dimension known as The Black Lodge. He starts to sexually abuse Laura at age 12 and continues as to do so as Laura gets older.2 The hosts of the Twin Peaks podcast Diane argue that in The Secret Diary it is possible that BOB is not real, because he is only ever seen by Laura. BOB could be a mental manifestation created by Laura to cope with the abuse happening at home.3

A similar argument could be made for Fire Walk with Me. Unlike Seasons 1 and 2 of the show, it is much less clear what is real and what is imagined. Laura Palmer is frequently using drugs, and the figures from The Black Lodge are never seen by anyone but her. An old woman and young boy with a white mask appear in Laura’s dreams, and then in her waking life. As Laura slowly discovers the truth about BOB’s identity, it increasingly unhinges her.

David Lynch claims never to have read The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, but actress Sheryl Lee did and said it had an important impact on her performance in FWWM.4 Lee deserves significant credit for the success of FWWM. As Laura she is intelligent, strong, and confident in some scenes and completely panicked and horrified in others. Lee convincingly balances the multiple sides to Laura Palmer: a teenager who still believes in guardian angels and tries to be a good friend, but she’s also a cruel girlfriend, an addict, and sex worker. Lee’s performance authentically captures the moral complexities and confusion of Laura in a way that is moving and real even in the sometimes surrealistic setting of the film.  

FWWM is much more frightening than the TV series because it feels more real. Soap opera melodrama is replaced by intense psychological turmoil. We frequently see the world through Laura’s eyes – and we are left uncertain as to whether what we are seeing is real or not. There is always a sense of high anxiety – as if something terrible could happen at any moment. A notable scene is when Laura goes to a back room at The Roadhouse Bar. It is darkly lit and bathed in red light. The color scheme is similar to The Red Room in The Black Lodge, where Cooper sees Laura in the TV series. People in this secret back room are participating in a grotesque and hellish scene of drug use and sexual debauchery. This is the real world, but it still feels like something violent and horrific could happen at any moment.

The most shocking scenes are when BOB’s identity seems to be shifting or unclear. After Laura has gone to bed for the night, BOB slowly climbs through her bedroom window and creeps onto her bed as she is sleeping. When he begins to assault her, Laura wakes up and the image of BOB shifts rapidly between the evil spirit and her father Leland’s face. Another impactful scene is when Laura is having dinner with her parents and Leland (Ray Wise) yells at her. He claims she is dirty and demands she wash her hands. Her mother Sarah tries to intervene, but then is silent. There is no switching back to BOB in this moment. Leland is not acting in an over-the-top way as he usually does as BOB. Instead he is cold and aggressive. Overall the scene is much more realistic compared to others in the film. These two scenes present the strongest evidence that BOB is not possessing Leland, but may simply be a figure of imagination created by Laura or Leland himself.

Fire Walk With Me will leave the viewer deeply unsettled and it is difficult to forget. Years after its original release, it is now considered by many critics to be a great film and has a loyal fan base. Fans of FWWM have spoken about how impactful it was to see a complicated character like Laura Palmer struggling with some of the same issues as them.5 When it was released in 1992, very few films had addressed incest. It is a fantastical and nightmarish story that is able to capture the horrifying terror, confusion, and despair of sexual abuse.

Warning: Important spoilers and plot information about the first two seasons of Twin Peaks will be discussed here.  

The nuclear family in their pretty house nestled in a peaceful small town is often the idyllic image of the “American Dream.” The small town represents the middle class, safety, and family values. But in Twin Peaks and other American horror classics, the small town is a setting of dark secrets, domestic violence, and evil forces.

Twin Peaks was created by David Lynch and Mark Frost with the first two seasons airing in 1990 and 1991. The fictional small town of Twin Peaks is in rural Washington State. The show is set in the present day, early 1990s, but the town looks more like 1950s America. Two wealthy families control the majority of businesses. The Hornes own the Great Northern Lodge, which is frequented by travelers from throughout the world. The Packards control the log mill, which employs many people in town, but is no longer as profitable as it once was. Every day locals meet up at the RR Diner run by Norma (Peggy Lipton) who is famous for her amazing pies. On the surface Twin Peaks appears like a small, friendly, all American place. But the community is shocked when homecoming queen Lauren Palmer (Sheryl Lee) is found dead on a beach. Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) of the FBI is brought in because the murder is suspected to be connected to a serial killer. At first it seems like just another murder case, but as Agent Cooper learns the history of Twin Peaks, he suspects there might be dark supernatural forces impacting the town.

Cooper’s spiritual beliefs and character make it easier for him to accept the supernatural and appreciate the small town values of Twin Peaks. From his studies of Tibetan Buddhism and work on unexplained phenomena with the FBI, he believes there are unseen good and evil forces in the world. He also accepts visions and dreams as legitimate guides to the world. He has a clear sense of right and wrong and that there is an order to the world. In this way Cooper’s spirituality connects to the All-American character that Lynch was going for – wholesome, confident, and possessing a kind of innocence. When Cooper comes to Twin Peaks, he is an outsider, but he feels right at home. He becomes obsessed with their amazing coffee and pie. In his encounters with the townspeople he is always gracious and joyful. He seems to genuinely love Twin Peaks at first – he appreciates the natural beauty of the area and the goodness of the local people.

But beneath the veneer of small town pleasantries are violence, addiction, and greed. Laura Palmer was the homecoming queen and helped with Meals on Wheels, but was also a cocaine addict and a sex worker. High school football champs Bobby Briggs and his friend Mike are helping sell cocaine to their classmates. Ben Horne, local business owner of the Great Northern, also operates One Eyed Jack’s, an illegal casino and brothel across the border in Canada. The respectable Dr. Hayward attacks Ben Horne in a moment of rage. Truck driver Leo Johnson repeatedly abuses his wife Shelly.

The evil and mysterious supernatural forces are shown as real in the show, but they might also just be cover for the more ordinary evils of American life. This is a recurrent theme in some of Lynch’s other films, such as the violence of romantic relationships in Blue Velvet and the bitterness of failing to achieve one’s American dream in Mulholland Drive. Horror classics by Stephen King and Shirley Jackson offer similar critiques that are disguised by supernatural elements.

In Stephen King’s IT there is an evil force at work, but it is partly fueled by the community. Pennywise the clown is a shape shifting creature that torments the fictional small town of Derry, Maine, appearing every decade to kill small children. A group of friends work together as children and then as adults to try to stop him. But the creature is fueled by the evil of regular people. It gains power from the bigotry, violence, and indifference within the town. In IT one of the main protagonists, Beverly, is hit by her father for any small error. Pennywise feeds off these fears later on – recreating her father’s voice and likeness when Beverly is an adult. Pennywise often appears as someone’s greatest fear. 

In Twin Peaks, the evil force known as BOB is the main villain. BOB is an evil being that has inhabited different people in Twin Peaks throughout the years. Both Pennywise and BOB are often laughing and joyful when they torment others. Instead of children BOB targets young teenage girls of Twin Peaks. Unlike Pennywise, BOB doesn’t directly feed off the sins of the town. However, BOB’s violence and lust are mirrored in several of the male characters, such as Jacques Renault who takes advantage drug addicted teenage girls, Ben Horne has multiple affairs and recruits local young women for his brothel, and Leo Johnson who threatens and abuses his partner. All of these men seem to have no moral qualms or regrets in the moment.1

The terror of domestic abuse is also a prominent part of The Shining. That King novel is a story of a family that has to take care of a haunted hotel, but the father Jack Torrance’s alcoholism and violence towards his wife and son occurs before they even enter the Overlook Hotel. Torrance seems possessed by evil forces in the hotel. But possession is often used as an excuse by abusive people. They say they cannot control their emotions, that they did not mean to do what they did, or act as if they have no recollection of what they did.  The ghosts at the Overlook cause almost no physical harm, but Jack Torrance’s behavior is erratic, violent, and terrifying.

King has noted that he could not have written The Shining without inspiration from The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. Jackson is known for psychological horror and stories of the uncanny. The main character Eleanor is with a group of people investigating the supernatural phenomenon at Hill House. They learn that the man who built the house, Hugh Crane, was a strict and abusive father, and tragedy followed his daughters into adulthood. Unlike The Shining and Twin Peaks, Jackson finds a way to keep the reader guessing as to whether the hauntings are real or just a mental manifestation of Eleanor’s loneliness and difficult relationship with her mother.

A common device of Jackson’s was using humor and eccentric characters to enhance the realism of the horror, something that Twin Peaks often does. The most unsettling example of combining humor and horror is Leland Palmer (Ray Wise), the grieving father of Laura Palmer. His grief goes to different extremes of depression, anger, and then jubilant denial in which he’s seen dancing or singing happily. It is hard not to feel for Leland as he cries over the photo of Laura at home. He is also laughable in his extremes of emotion – switching from grief to rage to joy at the drop of a dime. Even some of the townspeople begin to snicker and laugh at Leland. In all respects Leland seems like a weak and pathetic character. But Leland raped and murdered his daughter. 

When a person shows tenderness one minute and violence the next, it is deeply confusing and unsettling. Leland Palmer most resembles the Jackson character Mary Katherine Blackwood (aka Merricat) from the novel We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Merricat is a strange and childlike character. Her actions and train of thought are often funny, but she is also scary because of her erratic behavior and violent fantasies. That both Leland and Merricat are likeable and foolish makes them more frightening.

The presence of supernatural forces makes it easier to look at these common problems that are often still taboo to speak of. According to the CDC 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 13 boys are estimated to experience child abuse in the United States.2 The National Domestic Violence Hotline reports that “an average of 24 people per minute are victims of rape, physical violence or stalking by an intimate partner in the United States — more than 12 million women and men over the course of a single year.”3 This high degree of intimate and brutal violence is challenging to accept in 2024. Once Laura’s murder has been solved, Cooper confides to Sherriff Truman that it might be easier to accept that Leland was possessed by an evil spirit. There is a belief that good and evil forces are at work that provides an explanation to the universe. But if it is only from the human heart, the darkness can be unfathomable.