The Rape of Recy Taylor

Within the last few weeks, numerous women (and several men) in Hollywood have come forth after years of silence against the men who sexually assaulted them. Many of them stayed quiet out of fear that either no one would believe them or their attacker(s) would seek retribution. But the very courageous will report what happened to them immediately.

That's what Nancy Buirski tells in her documentary The Rape of Recy Taylor. After being assaulted by six white men on her way home from church, Taylor's family tries to help her get justice (her attackers get acquitted twice, some of them enlisting in the war afterward). As a result, the NAACP sent Rosa Parks to help. And that's when history begins.

Buirski highlights in The Rape of Recy Taylor -- particularly towards the end -- who should be given credit for their presence in the civil rights movement. Not Martin Luther King, Jr., a man who regularly spoke out against the indignities colored people endured on a daily basis. No, Buirski has the numerous nameless who marched with King in such a role designation. And quite honestly, she's right.

As Virginia Woolf wrote in A Room of One's Own, "I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman." (And yes, that's the actual quote.) How many women have made contributions to society that weren't recognized as such at the time? The truth may not be completely known but regardless, we have to respect the women in our lives, no matter what.

The Rape of Recy Taylor chronicles a forgotten name from a crucial time in American history, one responsible for shaping history itself. Taylor may not be in regular classroom discussions but she damn well should be. (And the same should be said for the many nameless victims of such ugly behavior.)

My Rating: ****1/2

Arthur Miller: Writer

There's a certain way that people are perceived by others. Some are viewed by their personalities while others know them for how they behaved behind closed doors. But one thing that tends to persist is how one person is portrayed by their own family.

Rebecca Miller's Arthur Miller: Writer depicts the famed playwright as how he was in the comfort of his own home. Using footage from previous attempts at making a documentary, Miller captures her father not as someone filled with anger (like many of his plays are) but rather as a human being.

Miller chronicles her father's early life of privilege (before the Great Depression struck), showing how such an upbringing actually kept him humble in later life. Of course moments where he's thrown into the public eye (the House Un-American Activities Committee and his marriage to Marilyn Monroe) put a strain on his otherwise private lifestyle. Regardless of the circumstances he was in, he remained modest.

But that's not to say he was perfect, far from it. Despite his initial success with All My Sons and Death of a Salesman, his plays (The Crucible and A View from the Bridge aside) never really seemed to connect with their audiences. (The critical reaction to After the Fall was beyond scathing.) But apparently to him, positive reception to his work wasn't of immense interest to him; he just wanted to have his voice heard.

Arthur Miller: Writer shows the dramatist as the very thing his works' main theme was: human. Miller encapsulates her father not as one of the most acclaimed writers of the last century but instead as the average American citizen. Sure, there's a sentimentality to the project but hey, it is essentially a daughter remembering a departed family member.

My Rating: ****1/2

Sammy Davis, Jr.: I've Gotta Be Me

There are those whose purpose in life is known early on. Some may be destined to further the field of medicine, other might display an interest towards the arts. In the case of Sammy Davis, Jr., his career path was simple: to be an entertainer.

Sam Pollard's Sammy Davis, Jr.: I've Gotta Be Me follows the path of Davis' career from his early days in vaudeville to being a member of the Rat Pack to making a name for himself by his lonesome. But being a black (and later Jewish) entertainer in the early days of the civil rights movement was a feat easier said than done.

The documentary focuses primarily on the professional hurdles Davis faced, the personal ones serving more as a footnote. (His romance with Kim Novak and then-controversial marriage to May Britt are briefly highlighted.) By many means did aspects of his life hamper the progress of his career but at the same time, said aspects had him breaking barriers.

Nevertheless, he persisted with his career ambitions. Pollard shows how there was hypocrisy within society and show business more than half a century ago. White performers could don blackface without a second thought but Davis was regularly talked out of doing his dead-on impressions of movie stars like Humphrey Bogart and James Stewart. (Davis also wasn't allowed to attend John F. Kennedy's inauguration gala -- Kennedy's father didn't approve of Davis' then-engagement to Britt -- but Nat King Cole, Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte were.)

Sammy Davis, Jr.: I've Gotta Be Me depicts a man who -- depending on the decade -- was either ahead of his time or painfully out of touch with it. But regardless of how the culture at the time perceived him, it was very hard to deny his talent. And that's still the case in the years since his death in 1990.

My Rating: ****1/2

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story

There's no denying the fact that women often get the short end of the stick (so to speak) in many aspects of life. Granted, within the last thirty years or so, (some) changes have been made towards the course of gender equality. But that doesn't rectify the past entirely.

In fact, there are numerous examples throughout history where a woman's contributions were either disregarded or flat-out ignored altogether. Mary Anning was a crucial figure in the field of paleontology but wasn't recognized as such until after her death. The same can be said for Rosalind Franklin and Cecilia Payne, both of whom made scientific discoveries that others (read: men) took credit for. And what can be said of Hedy Lamarr?

Many associate her as the gorgeous leading lady from Hollywood's Golden Age (or the inspiration for a running gag in Blazing Saddles). But as Alexandra Dean's Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story shows, there was so much more to Lamarr than her looks. She was a deeply complex woman, one whose mind was constantly in overdrive. But how overshadowed by history was she?

Fittingly because what she had created, nowadays people are aware of Lamarr creating the basis for WiFi and Bluetooth during World War II. (She didn't get proper credit until shortly before her death in 2000.) For years since co-patenting such an invention, she didn't know that she could renew said patent after it expired (she found out years after the fact). Still, at least she didn't go to her grave feeling she achieved nothing outside of making movies.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story shows there was much more to the movie star than her stunning (and oft-copied) beauty. She was a woman who was unfortunately born into a time of rampant sexism (and anti-Semitism) but thankfully such respect was restored to her and nearly two decades since her passing, it looks to be staying put. (And rightfully so, too.)

My Rating: *****

Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold

How much of one's life and their work can be told? There are the dark periods that they would prefer to avoid, and there are the happier times they've revisited in later years. Regardless of what they've encountered, everyone has a story waiting to be told.

Take for instance Joan Didion. Here's someone who rose to prominence as the world's many facets began to change, and she was right in the center of it all. From the rise of the counterculture movement to the Manson trial to the shift in political power, it would require someone who knows Didion closely to capture her life's accomplishments. And who better to do such a task than her own nephew?

Griffin Dunne's Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold focuses on the writer's work and existence, how she captured the changing world she's a part of. He captures his aunt as someone who saw society constantly on the verge of destroying itself. (She's not wrong.)

Also on focus in Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold is the subject of loss, something both Didion and Dunne are all too familiar with. With her losing her husband and adopted daughter in a matter of two years (and he losing his sister back in 1982), the wounds of the past still linger for both of them. (Time doesn't always heal all wounds.)

Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold is more than just a portrait of her as a writer; it's a portrait of her. She's a woman whose social circle and influence have a wide reach amongst both the famous and the anonymous. Here's someone who has an opinion on the world and if anyone didn't like it, to hell with them.

My Rating: ****1/2

Stop Making Sense

Ever since his passing this April, the world of cinema has become a poorer place with Jonathan Demme's presence. Ever since Roger Corman took him under his wing all those years ago, it was clear that his work would endure. Whether it's Oscar-winning fare like The Silence of the Lambs or more undervalued projects like Rachel Getting Married, it was nigh impossible to not like what he offered.

But as well as feature films, Demme also dabbled with documentaries. Perhaps the most famous of the ones he did was Stop Making Sense. But it's far from the usual cut and dry filmed account. What the viewer is treated to instead is something for the ages.

By no means does one have to be a fan of Talking Heads to appreciate what Stop Making Sense has to offer. Sure, one may watch it solely for the music (not that's there anything wrong with that) but in Demme's hands, he makes it feel as though the viewer has front row seats to the band's three-night concert.

Also taking into account Demme's other works, Stop Making Sense plays out very much like your standard narrative. It doesn't rely on behind-the-scenes footage or shots of the audience (apart from during the last song); it's all about the show.

Stop Making Sense is perhaps the most essential music documentary ever made. Demme, just a few years away from achieving Oscar glory, solidifies his status in Hollywood. And as his later works showed showed, he wasn't going to be forgotten any time soon. (Let's hope it stays that way too.)

My Rating: *****

I Am Not Your Negro

There are several worrying notes throughout Raoul Peck's I Am Not Your Negro, especially in light of the last few years. Using clips from the midst of the Civil Rights Movement, the words from James Baldwin become painfully relevant in the years following his 1987 death. But how so?

Peck provides a juxtaposition between Baldwin's words from the past and events from within the last decade. (There's also a dissonance with its music choices; it cuts from clips from Doris Day movies to photos of lynching, its cheery music still playing.) Yeah, it's that kind of documentary.

Narrating as Baldwin is Samuel L. Jackson. The way Jackson reads Baldwin's letter adds to the author's weariness towards the senseless violence aimed at the black community, how exhausted Baldwin has become towards police brutality. He'd be spinning in his grave if he had any clue what the country was like now.

Baldwin also notes how movies have the tendency to mangle one's personal beliefs, how audiences are fine with westerns where Native Americans are slaughtered but not so much with Sidney Poitier as a sex symbol or viable leading man. (Clips from five of Poitier's films -- A Raisin in the Sun, No Way Out, The Defiant Ones, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, In the Heat of the Night -- are shown. See a theme?) To say things have changed since Baldwin's time would be a lie.

I Am Not Your Negro shows that those who fail history are very much doomed to repeat it. (How many times must we as a society be forced to endure the mistakes of our past?) There's no denying that much still needs to be done since Baldwin's time but we as a society can make that a potential reality, and the time to do so is now.

My Rating: *****

Portrait of Jason

Shirley Clarke's Portrait of Jason isn't the conventional type of documentary. Its subject Jason Holliday (née Aaron Payne) isn't a name very well known by the masses but he's an engaging figure to watch as he tells his life story and ambitions. But is it as simple as that?

What's shown in Portrait of Jason could easily be described as that from the first few minutes but it unravels into something much more than that. Being made during a time where race and sexual identity were regular points of discussion (it certainly wasn't always), Clarke depicts an unbiased glimpse into someone's own life and how they see the world around them.

A key aspect throughout Portrait of Jason is how Jason presents himself to the camera. He has a flamboyant nature to him, a telling detail since he wants to be an entertainer. But as the film wears on, the barriers he had put up start to fall down. Off-camera taunts from Clarke and her then-partner Carl Lee reveal who Jason actually by film's end.

Being released the same year as Bonnie and Clyde and The Graduate, Portrait of Jason came out at a time when Hollywood was changing the rules. No more were the storytellers going to play it safe and get by with the occasional stray innuendo. But 1967 was the year that marked a cinematic revolution.

Portrait of Jason showed that women may have gotten the short end of the stick in previous years but they sure as hell weren't going to be in that position any longer. As Dorothy Arzner and Ida Lupino did before her, Clarke shows there's much more to storytelling than the then-required romantic subplot. They showed that a new perspective can be a good thing.

My Rating: ****1/2

By Sidney Lumet

There's no denying that Sidney Lumet was one of the all-time great directors. With a career spanning half a century, he made films that stood the test of time. But how did his mind work when he was making a film?

Nancy Buirski's By Sidney Lumet may have a few answers to some of those questions. Using an interview of Lumet's conducted a few years before his death in 2011, the documentary focuses on the auteur's lengthy career as well as some of his upbringing.

Also featuring clips of his various projects, the documentary uses them to coincide with what Lumet is talking about. (There's one point where he's discussing Lloyd Bridges' outburst while filming an episode for The Alcoa Hour.) There's no denying that storytelling can affect people; sometimes it can be the person telling the story themselves.

At one point in By Sidney Lumet, the director talks about the recurring theme of morality in his works, admitting it's not an entirely conscious decision to have it be there. Regardless of that, it's that element that makes his films so engaging. (Why else do you think people still talk about his work?)

By Sidney Lumet chronicles how he worked as an artist and how he conveyed his beliefs (both personal and religious) into his films. Buirski shows how Lumet was in fact as human as many of the works bearing his name. After all, what's a better way to endure a legacy than by admitting one's flaws?

My Rating: ****1/2

Lambert & Stamp

Usually it's only the members of the band that are the ones remembered in the years to come. Of course the likes of Brian Epstein and Malcolm McLaren are associated for the bands they made famous (the Beatles and the Sex Pistols, respectively). But there are those who tend to get overshadowed.

James D. Cooper's Lambert & Stamp chronicles how two blokes from different upbringings who originally wanted to make an underground film ended up managing one of the biggest bands out of the United Kingdom. Those men were Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp, and that band was the Who. And it wasn't a walk in the park for any of them.

The documentary chronicles the early years of the band under Lambert and Stamp's management to how the former began to lose his way because of drug addiction. Surviving Who bandmembers Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey recollect how they were treated by their new bosses and how they shaped them into one of the biggest acts around. And again, it wasn't without its ups and downs.

Townshend, Daltrey and Stamp (who died a few years before this was released) also talked about how fame and suddenly having money affected them, particularly Lambert and drummer Keith Moon. As shown time and time again, one can only rise so high before they come crashing down; that is what happened to Lambert and Moon. (Oh, the cost of fame...)

Lambert & Stamp shows how fame and fortune wasn't immediate for the Who and their managers but good things come to those who wait. Now all these years later, the Who is regarded as one of the best rock bands in the world. (If you think otherwise, go listen to Who's Next from beginning to end.)

My Rating: ****

The Beatles: Eight Days a Week

There's absolutely no way in denying the cultural impact four lads from Liverpool left on the world. But what was it like when they were still a band? More specifically, how did they cope with the hoards of screaming fans at their concerts?

Ron Howard's The Beatles: Eight Days a Week chronicles those four hectic years the Fab Four spent touring, recording, promoting and very little else. (Certainly no way anyone could've foretold Beatlemania back then.) But it was only a matter of time before it became too much for them.

Through remaining Beatles Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr, they discuss how bandmates John Lennon and George Harrison slowly began to get exhausted of the non-stop traveling and hysterical teenagers. But the documentary also shows the band's cheeky attitude during the early days, providing a juxtaposition for how fame affected them.

What's also captured in The Beatles: Eight Days a Week are those who grew up listening to the band's music. From fellow musicians to those working in Hollywood, they talk about how welcoming the quartet was to the baby boomers. And as future generations would show, they weren't going to be forgotten anytime soon.

The Beatles: Eight Days a Week is as lively as its subjects and a welcoming entry for their fans. It's also a depiction of the cost of fame and how it can slowly wear someone down. It's practically a cautionary tale for those who want to see their name in lights.

My Rating: *****