The delicate art of documentaries

As a consumer of media, my tastes tend to lean towards fiction over nonfiction. I find this is true for both literature and film. If Freud were not deceased and somehow a buddy of mine, I'm sure he would have some psychological explanation for my preferences. This is not to say that I do not like documentaries or nonfiction novels at all. Quite the contrary, I believe they require a high amount of skill and precision in order to maintain my attention throughout.


For example, I finally dusted off Man on Wire from my Netflix cue as per the recommendation of my former professor and friend, Amy. The film looks back at the life of high-wire walker Phillipe Petit leading up to his illegal tight rope walk across the Twin Towers in 1974. Unlike most documentaries, the reenactments are extremely well-executed and despite knowing Phillipe survives, filmmakers are still able create tension throughout the entirety of the film.

Two other stunning examples come from HBO's Summer Documentary series. The first is Love, Marilyn. If you know me personally, you would know I admire, love and am a tiny bit obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. In my Stardom class in college, I wrote my thesis paper on her career trajectory and my favorite piece of writing throughout my time at AU. Therefore, after wading through copious amounts of research on the woman, I can say with some authority that this film gives the most authentic and robust portrayal of Marilyn/Norma Rae. I like the format of the doc, too; famous actresses read aloud her personal notes and letters along side interviews from friends.

The second HBO documentary was The Crash Reel, fifteen years of verite footage before and after professional snowboarder Kevin Pearce's half-pipe crash that left him with a traumatic brain injury only weeks prior to competing in the Vancouver Olympics. You expect the documentary to be a typical sports comeback tale; instead, its filled with familial complexities and discussions around the dangerous nature of extreme sports. The final photography, shot at night on the half-pipe with Shaun White is gorgeous, reminding the viewer why we enjoy watching the sport in the first place, despite the risks.

 Most importantly, what has helped re-spark my interest in great docs is learning about the fascinating people who have shaped history. I would be remiss if I did not end this post with a plea to help a Kickstarter project very close to my heart. Be Natural is the untold story of Alice Guy-Blache, the first female director. She wrote, directed or produced more than 1,000 films in the course of her 20 year film career and yet, you never hear of her in film classes. The campaign has four days left and still needs about $100k in order to hit their funding goal. I believe its imperative these filmmakers spread Alice's life story for both women's and film history. Even if you can only donate $1, do it and then tell your friends to do the same.