At any film festival I try to break off a little time for a few documentaries, because it’s a way of tricking myself into thinking I’m doing something educational rather than just cramming movies into my brain because of the greed that develops when you hand me a press badge. Again, I tried to avoid contemporary issue movies on account of the pervasive 24/7, 365 apocalyptic news cycle, instead choosing docs that were more aligned with my personal interests. All three were exactly what I was seeking.
Seized (dir. Sharon Liese)
A small town newspaper spills some small town tea, thrusting said small town into the international spotlight in this fascinating tale of police corruption, journalistic integrity/excess, and the power dynamics that exist even in a tiny civic vacuum.
Apropos of seemingly nothing, the offices of the Marion County Record are raided by local police. Computers and phones are seized (hey!), and the editor-in-chief is accosted at his home by local law enforcement. When the stress of this interaction ostensibly causes the death of his 98 year old mother (a former journalist herself), a battle of ethics ensues, calling into question the morality/legality of the police action. This, however, is not a purely ACAB doc (don’t get me wrong, fuck cops). Liese smartly keeps some aspects of the story in a necessarily grey area. You see, the newspaper itself is not well-loved by the locals. They have a history of printing salacious news items, and even taking personal beefs to the front page. To hear the staff tell the story, the job of a journalist is not to make friends, but rather to tell the truth regardless of social impact. To hear the populace tell it, maybe the paper should consider its role as a neighbor and community member.
What makes this doc so compelling is not the story itself, but the characters embroiled in it. It’s a rogues gallery of small town personalities in varying positions of power, with an up-and-coming journalist from New York peppered in for good measure — he’s taken a position at the Record, and has different ideas about how things should be done, adding a fish out of water element to the story.
The film outgrows the material a bit, which leads to an unfocused feeling. In trying to be about everything, it loses some of its editorial edge, and thus some its narrative thrust. This is by design, but it leaves the viewer with the responsibility of going down their own rabbit holes after the film. I’m happy to do it, but I would’ve liked it done for me.
We Are the Shaggs (dir. Ken Kwapis)
Quick, stop reading for a second and make your way over to your music streamer of choice and search for The Shaggs. Give them a listen and see if you can wrap your brain around what you’re hearing. I can guarantee that whatever you expected, it’s nothing like what you’re hearing. I’ll give you a second to try it out.
Did you do it? Are you confused? Does your head hurt? Do you find yourself drawn to it for some hare-brained reason?? Are you confused as to why such a strange, seemingly objectively bad band is deserving of a documentary treatment? Good, it means you’re sane.
But what if someone could make the case that the sound of The Shaggs is not accidental, but carefully designed by musicians who knew exactly what they were doing? Apparently, that is indeed the case, and a roster of scholarly music talking heads (not including Talking Heads) have proof.
We Are The Shaggs is an astonishingly detailed doc that dissects the musicianship behind this bizarre discography, and it does a damn fine job of selling the notion that not only is it good music, but it’s important to the fabric of music history. In addition, we get to hear the bizarre story of how the band was formed straight from its former members. Talking head segments are bolstered with archival photos and comical animations that fill in where footage simply doesn’t exist. The film also doubles as a history of independent record studios, where musicians could throw down a bit of cash and put some songs on wax without any music industry bureaucracy.
Viewers will emerge from the film with a greater appreciation of The Shaggs and their cultural influence, but it’s unlikely anyone will be champing at the bit to listen to them. To misquote one of the featured speakers: it sounds like the music you’d hear in a nightmare.
Hanging By A Wire (dir. Mohammed Ali Naqvi)
The citizens of a Pakistani village rely on a cable car as part of their daily commute across a portion of the Himalayas. It seems treacherous, but for these folks it is as commonplace as taking a bus. Suspended from two cables, the car hovers above the ground at a height of nearly 1000 feet. On the best of days, it’s a stomach churning feat of mechanics. On the worst of days, like the one depicted in this edge-of-your-seat film, it’s a waking nightmare.
In 2023, eight passengers, six of them children, found themselves stranded at the zenith of the car’s passageway when one of the support cables snapped, rendering the machine immobile and unsupported. Hanging by A Wire chronicales the many rescue attempts which occurred throughout the day. It’s a breathless race against the clock while the sun sets, the temperature drops, and the single remaining cable is held taught, exceeding its maximum weight limit. Locals don’t want to wait, while authorities don’t want any unofficial rescue efforts to result in increased risk. Emotion, ego, mass panic, and bureaucracy come head to head, and nobody can be blamed for how they wish to proceed.
What makes this documentary so exceptional is the sheer wealth of footage from the day. Between cell phones, drones, and news cameras, there’s an eye on every inch of every rescue attempt. We get to see inside the imperiled cable car as it all happens — there’s no need for shoddy reenactments.
Folks who fear heights will find the film as harrowing as Free Solo, but much like that academy award winning film, Hanging By a Wire is an absolute must see for fans of thorough, gripping documentaries. It’s a tale that highlights the resourcefulness of human beings, and the way that disaster has the potential to awaken heroism in the most unexpected hearts. It’s a wildly intense film, but one filled with hope and triumph. It’s truly one of the best documentaries I have ever seen.
