This is the 'true' account of what happened in the house in Amityville, 112 Ocean Ave. The story has been told many times, be it by the family that allegedly experienced the haunted, by Ed and Lorraine Warren or through several horror films based on a true story.
My Amityville Horror focuses on Daniel Lutz, one of the three children in the house with their mother and stepfather, that eventually triggered the legend surrounding the place now. This is mostly a string of first word accounts by Daniel, psychics, psychologists and even Lorraine Warren makes an appearance.
Some of the aspects are really interesting and unsettling in ways that make you question whether or not this could actually have happened. Some comments call the truth of Daniel's recollection into question. How much of it does he really remember and when - if at all - did he fill in the blanks of his memories?
The film does not give a cut and dried answer but really only remains on the truthfulness of Daniel Lutz's words. It is up to anyone themselves to decide. It makes - on purpose or by accident - make Daniel look very unsympathetic. This appears to be a man that is always on the verge of jumping down someone's throat and voices his anger at interviewers (that last scene!).
I feel like that guy did not do himself any favors by agreeing to do this.
This Oscar winning documentary tells the story of Klaus Barbie through many interviews, some very emotional, a few level headed (which carry just as much weight simply by being factual). At a running time of about 4,5 hours this is not only a massive undertaking in itself, but also quite challenging to sit through. Obviously, this is not easy viewing.
The name Barbie itself does not necessarily spring to mind right away when one considers the biggest names in the Nazi organisation. It is telling, that a man known as the Butcher of Lyon easily faded from public memory.
I believe the first time I came across that name when he was the punchline of a joke in the film Rat Race (the Barbie museum turning out something very different than the family expected), which is astounding, really. Especially for someone who grew up in a country that used to be part of the German Reich. Barbie was simply never much of a topic. This was probably in part of his involvement (and protection that comes with that) with the US government.
As this was made during a time when documentaries did not have the aspirations of entertaining people, it may feel a little dated today. Documentaries have for the longest time been made for the sake of information. Sensationalism and bite sized conversation bits are a rather recent developments, I believe. So, sadly, however interesting and important, this will probably remain little seen.
Though the subject of this documentary is right down my lane (being someone who watches way too many films, albeit on a very much smaller scale in comparison to the subjects of Cinemania), the execution appears so sloppy that it borders on the annoying.
It is shot with shaky camera (in an attempt at vérité) and does not really focus all that much on cinema itself, or what it actually means to the five people the cameras follow around. There is an awful lot of time dedicated to the logistics of watching as many films as possible in cinemas across New York City, but rarely does it ever touch on what those films are.
I assume that the films are not merely picked because they can be fitted into a day, but there is a reason an individual wants to see certain films. Somehow, we never quite learn what, say, Harvey watches on a particular day. Sure, we know he likes Ginger Rogers and is not a fan of Antonioni, but that is about the extent.
In the end, we see more of New York City, hustling from one cinema to the next on many subways, than we do of actual film. I wish they would have let the five people talk more and make them look less like weirdos.
The life story of Robert Durst is so weird, it can only be true. This is the account of the man himself, made after the film All Good Things by the same film maker, Andrew Jarecki, which was based on the same events then discussed in The Jinx interviews. Giving those interviews and letting a camera follow him around may well be the worst decision Robert Durst ever made.
The details of the series have been chewed over often enough recently and all the connections to the Serial podcast have already been drawn, so I will not go there. Here are simply my own thoughts on the whole mess.
The Jinx is quite brilliant and very engrossing. Andrew Jarecki also made the exceptional documentary Capturing the Friedmans (if you haven't seen is, please consider this a recommendation to do so). Documentaries have been getting larger audiences in recent years, which is a good things. Life, after all, does tell the best stories.
The final punch of the show, of course, has a weird after taste. The timing of Durst's recent arrest coinciding with the airing of the last episode is curious, and accusations of holding back evidence for the sake of the sucker punch of that scene have flown, but I tend to give the film makers the benefit of a doubt. The inclusion of the team's discussions of the evidence they had in hand (the inciminating letter) even before Robert Durst muttered his confession to himself while wearing a live microphone and their sharing the evidence can be taken as an indicator, that they were acting in good faith.
In conclusion: watch more documentaries. Some of them are well worth your time and long gone are the times when reality banned on film are presented in a way that will bore you to tears.
20 Feet from Stardom is one of this year's Oscar nominees for Best Documentary (up against The Act of Killing, Cutie and the Boxer, Dirty Wars and Al midan).
This is made up of archive footage and interviews focusing on backup singers. It features the likes of Bruce Springsteen, Sting and Mick Jagger alongside the (mostly) women that many of us have heard many times over, usually without appreciating the art and beauty they bring to the songs.
The film puts a handful of these talented individuals (predominately African-American) front an center. Most but not all of them tried to get into the spotlight themselves at some point, one, Merry Clayton, even putting out three record that never amounted to much but must have been really good from the few seconds we get to hear. Another interviewee is Judith Hill who participated in The Voice (and got voted off early and rather surprisingly).
Some other tidbits we learn...Phil Spector is not a very nice person. Luther Vandross once was a backup singer for David Bowie (on the Young Americans album). Backup singers are divas too.
Beautifully shot and a very interesting bit of music history.
Contrary to 'normal' approaches to documentaries, this one does not comment. Anything. The film consists of a series of news clips, some without any sound at all, detailing 25 years in the career of Nicolae Ceaușescu, Romania's last Communist leader.
In the year of revolutions 1989, Romania was the only country of the Warsaw Pact in which the demonstrations against the regime turned bloody. Nicolae Ceaușescu grossly misjudged his people's mood, giving one last rousing speech from his balcony. Shortly thereafter, he and his wife Elena (also, his Deputy Prime Minister) fled the capitol with a helicopter. The police had turned against them, as well, refusing to follow his instructions to shoot demonstrators in the town of Timișoara. Instead, the picked up the Ceaușescus and put them on trial. Despite Ceaușescu's refusal to accept the court's authority, after all - he insisted - he is their president and only the National Committee can try him.
The footage follows the timeline from the death of his predecessor, Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej, until the death of Ceaușescu himself. Clips of mass gatherings celebrating the leaders of Romania alternate with speeches. What changes most significantly over the course of time is the rhetoric.
Despite the lack of commentary and judgement on the filmmaker's part, the point is put across quite well, leaving the audience to make their own judgement.
This documentary shows a year in the streets of Chicago, among some of the desperate youths and the people trying to talk them down when they are about to erupt into violence.
The task the members of the CeaseFire initiative (aka Violence Interrupters) put upon themselves is a heroic one - and a constant uphill battle. Nearly all of them know what it is like to be in these young people's shoes and nearly all of them have done prison time, for crimes varying from hold ups to murder. So when they speak to the kids, they absolutely know what they are talking about. They get right into the middle of arguments that threaten to turn violent and possibly deadly and try to talk sense into everyone involved.
But that is not where the job ends.
They help out and speak at vigils and funerals, using all platforms to transport there message of non violence, telling potential killers to be the bigger person and walk away. The group is respected in the community and kids will listen to them at times. They get in touch with families of murdered youths to mourn with them or provide a shoulder to cry on. They assist with community projects that provide healthy environments for children and are simply there when someone needs to talk.
Such bravery and dedication.
The film was directed by Steve James, who also made the lauded Hoop Dreams, that many people believe was robbed of a best documentary Oscar. This strong piece of film making wasn't even nominated, which raised a lot of eyebrows.
I watched this with a lump in my throat throughout. It ends with a Solomon Burke song, very fittingly called 'Don't Give Up On Me'.
I spent the entire Oscar night (and much of the day before) at the packed Gartenbaukino to watch the transmission. The pre-program the theater offered were five films nominated for one thing or another. The heavily favored film to win best documentary feature was one of the film shown - the wonderful Searching for Sugar Man.
This is the story of Detroit singer Sixto Rodriguez, who made two albums in the 1960s/1970s that fell pretty much on deaf ears, even though everyone involved and, really, everyone who ever heard him play cannot explain why he didn't take off. His music is wonderful and the lyrics and songwriting draw comparisons to calibers like Bob Dylan but somehow things didn't happen for him.
But somehow his debut album "Cold Facts" ended up in South Africa at a time when the country was shunned by other nations due to its regime of Apartheid and people withing South Africa were widely shielded from outside influences. Rodriguez singing of speaking up against the establishment triggered something of a musical revolution, as local musicians started to realize that they do have the means to make their voices heard. All of those musicians were heavily influenced by Rodriguez. He sold approximately half a million records in South Africa and the strangest thing is...he didn't even know it.
One day, a journalist took it upon himself to find out more about the singer/songwriter, who was something of a mystery. Nobody knew anything about him. The most important question that needed answering was: How did Rodriguez die? Rumors of him setting himself on fire, blowing his brains out or overdosing on drugs swirled around but nobody knew for sure. When he eventually got a hold of the producer of the first record and at the end of the interview asked his most burning question the journalist was told that Rodriguez was alive and well.
People interested in solving the mystery set up a website about their search for more information. One day, Eva Rodriguez, oldest daughter of the mysterious musician, wrote on the website's forum and left her contacts and finally got them in touch with the man himself. And when we, the audience, finally meet the man he turns out to be the most humble and gracious individual, working on construction sites, not bitter about not having had the success he would have wanted as a young man.
Eventually, he went to South Africa to play a sold out show (the first of many), which marks the climax of this wonderful, wonderful film. And after he played to sold out crowds in South Africa he went right back home to the house he has spent the last few decades in and back to work at the construction sites.
This is such a moving, loving portrait that everyone watching with me seemed to adore as much as I do. In the following Oscar night, along with the awards given to Austrians (Christoph Waltz, Michael Haneke), Searching for Sugar Man winning (as expected) best documentary got the biggest applause from my hometown crowd.
When I got home I went online an purchased both of Rodriguez' available albums.
Cinema Português? is a documentary on the first 100 years of Portuguese film and the lack of a Portuguese film industry. The questionmark in the title is there for a reason.
The documentary is just under one hour long and features intercut scenes from various movies and parts of an interview director Manuel Mozos (pictured below) conducted with one João Bénard da Costa, not only an actor but a professor, historian and author.
I saw the film during the annual local film festival Viennale and after the screening there was a Q&A session with Mr. Mozos and film director Miguel Gomes, whose latest work Tabu also screened at the festival.
The stories they told of life as someone working in film in Portugal were sad ones. After 100 years, less than 500 Portuguese film had been made. There is simply no money.
In fact, not a single film is being produced in Portugal this year. Not a one.
