laff2008 Tagged Articles at Cinematical

Before the pre-festivals press screening of Boogie Man: The Lee Atwater Story, the new documentary about the life and death of Republican political operative Lee Atwater, two separate Rolling Stones songs were running through my head. "Street Fightin' Man, " possibly inspired by Atwater's reputation as a dirty trickster of the higher order, and "Sympathy for the Devil," perhaps springing from Atwater's deathbed renunciation of many of the things he'd done; both associations sprang from the little I knew about Atwater. Thanks to the work of director Stefan Forbes, I now know a lot more; I now know so much, in fact, I'm not sure what to think.

Combining archival news footage with interviews from people who knew Atwater and some who, interestingly, only knew him through the public ramifications of his work, Boogie Man paints a complex portrait of a complex figure: A race-baiting political operative (Atwater may or may not have been behind the infamous 'Willie Horton' ad that cost Michael Dukakis the election in '88) who nonetheless loved to listen to, and play blues music; a man who sprang from the South who helped elect Eastern elites like George H.W. Bush; a man whose pupils in the modern political art of war, Karl Rove and George W. Bush (who worked with Atwater on his father's campaign) turned their back on him as he lay dying.

Watching Paper or Plastic?, the new documentary about the regional qualifiers and Las Vegas final of the 2007 National Grocery Bagging Competition, I was surprised to note the presence of something that's hard to come by in 2008: Sincerity. I don't mean just that Paper or Plastic? never mocks, knocks or condescends to the seven contestants from every corner of America the finale brings together -- although it never does -- but more that co-directors Alex D. da Silva and Justine Jacob not only found an event to observe but also a spirit to celebrate. The seven contestants we meet want to win; their friends and family support and surround them; they're part of a long tradition of competition. And da Silva and Jacob gradually, gently pull us into the world of competitive grocery bagging until, by the end of the film, I was literally at seat's edge watching a contestant race to beat the clock thinking Oh, God, don't forget the Life Savers ... they deduct points for that. ...

But while you're being entertained by Paper or Plastic?, you're also getting a fairly solid glimpse at modern life. One grocery executive notes that the "courtesy walk" taking a customer's well-bagged groceries still matters: "That's the last place Mrs. Consumer still has an impression of the store." And as freaky as the phrase "Mrs. Consumer" sounds in this day and age (all I can imagine is Donna Reed, with apron and pearls), you also realize he means it. Another grocery executive fan of the Championship notes "It's like American Idol; you never know where the stars are. ..." you realize that while what he's saying is a subtle comment on our modern celebrity culture, he, too, also means it.

If Tolstoy had lived in our time, he might have expanded on his famed quote from Anna Karenina to note that happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way ... and that's demonstrated through their documentary. Following in the archival-confessional mold of such documentaries as Tarnation and Capturing the Friedmans, filmmaker Morgan Dews has created Must Read After My Death -- or, rather, assembled it, from decades of photographs and home movies and Dictaphone recordings found in his grandmother's home after her passing. Dews doesn't interject himself into this material; at the same time, he's made the decisions that shape it -- the inclusions, the deletions, the things we linger on, the things elided over.

Must Read After My Death is, first and foremost, a portrait of the marriage between Allis and Charlie. Allis is a mother and home maker, but the need to be perfect chances at her, chokes her; Charley travels for work, a charmer and hearty man's man whose easy charm makes it entirely too easy to ignore his family. Hoping to make Charley's distance more tolerable -- or, at least, more entertaining -- the family purchased a Dictaphone, and sent audio recordings back and forth. These recordings -- made in quiet contemplation or moments of anger, some heavy with things unsaid, some thick with the sounds of rage and desperation -- are the aching heart and wounded soul of the film.