Discussion of terrible violent crimes and the death penalty
Diversity Issues:
A topic in the movie
Date Released to Theaters:
March 20, 2009
Robert Blecker is one of the most outspoken — and unexpected — proponents of the death penalty. He does not try to base his argument on the death penalty as deterrent or to prevent the opportunity for further crimes. The self-described “retributivist advocate of the death penalty has managed to alienate both sides of the debate on the politically divisive and morally complex issue of capital punishment….e makes a powerful case for the death penalty as retribution, but only for the ‘worst of the worst’ offenders.”
Defining what ‘worst of the worst’ means is a constant and sometimes painful struggle for Blecker, and as a part of his continuing effort to define that category he first came into contact with someone who appears to qualify according to anyone’s standard. That man is Daryl Holton, who shot his three children and their half-sibling to death in 1997 because, he said, he thought it was better for them to be dead than to live with their mother.
This documentary about the relationship between the two men does not take sides. It simply documents their conversations, which are vivid, engrossing, and surprising. As Blecker gets to know Holton, he finds it difficult to maintain the sense of outrage that is an essential part of his justification for the death penalty, even in light of the unspeakable nature of the crime. The deepest questions of what we are as humans echo throughout the film. Is Holton’s crime so inhuman that he must be insane and therefore less culpable? Is it inevitable that interviewing him will establish a connection that makes it more difficult to advocate for his being put to death?
This is less a film about the death penalty than it is about more fundamental issues of purpose and meaning. It is a provocative film about deeply troubling issues. No matter what your perspective, it will be challenged. And no matter how you come out, it is that very engagement and need for understanding that ultimately reaches the deepest part of the human experience and responsibility.
As Jack Black explains in School of Rock, rock music is about sticking it to The Man. That takes on a wider meaning when the sticking is coming from young girls. In this documentary about a music camp in Portland, Oregon, where, according to the New York Times’ Jeannette Catsoulis,
100 delirious 8-to-18-year-olds — many of whom have never touched an instrument — are encouraged to make noise and “take up space.” For one earsplitting, consciousness-raising week, they form bands and write songs while watchful counselors — volunteer musicians from bands like Sleater-Kinney and Gossip — provide expertise, mediate meltdowns and reassure the strugglers.
The movie shows how rock music can help girls tell their own stories and discover who they are, free of cultural expectations and limitations. And that they really can rock out!
Interview: Steve James of ‘At the Death House Door’
Posted on January 3, 2009 at 8:00 am
I last wrote about the superb documentary At the Death House Door when I interviewed its subject, Pastor Carroll Pickett, who served 15 years as the death house chaplain to the infamous “Walls” prison unit in Huntsville. The film was the first-time direction collaboration between award-winning directors Steve James (“Hoop Dreams”) and Peter Gilbert (“Vietnam: Long Time Coming”). James was nice enough to answer some of my questions about the film.
How did you first hear about Pastor Carroll Pickett?
Steve James: Gordon Quinn at our film company Kartemquin was approached by The Chicago Tribune because they thought we would be interested in doing a film focused entirely on the investigation of the Carlos De Luna case by Steve Mills and Maurice Possley. Gordon knew that Peter and I would be interested in the subject and set up a meeting with the reporters. In the course of telling us about De Luna, they also mentioned Pastor Carroll Pickett who had been haunted by the memory of De Luna, and recorded these feelings in an amazing audio tape about the execution right afterwards. When they revealed he’d recorded audio tapes about all 95 executions he’d
ministered to, we were hooked. We decided from the get-go, that we wanted Rev. Pickett’s journey to be our main story, and bring us to why De Luna was so important to him.
What was your original intention for the film and how did it evolve?
SJ: See answer above… As stated, the original intention of the Tribune was to have us do a film about Carlos De Luna, but its hard to do a film about a man who was not famous or led a well-documented life, and who was executed 17 years before. With the mention of Pickett, it was clear that we had a unique and potentially powerful story to tell about a man’s past and also who he is today. This is one time when the original conception of what the film could be was pretty much on target for what the film ultimately became.But that doesn’t mean that the filmmaking process did not evolve. We didn’t anticipate guard Fred Allen, nor Carlos’ sister Rose, nor Carroll’s family and the significance they would all play in the film. Nor did we anticipate just how closed and “well armored” Carroll was as a person and how this film would ultimately – in his words – prove to be “the therapy he never got.”
What films inspired you to create documentaries? What documentaries most influenced your approach?
SJ: I was initially influenced by fiction films – one director in particular whose work was always characterized by complex portrayals of his subjects. That director was the great Jean Renoir, director of such classics as The Rules of the Game and Grand Illusion. But I was also affected by less celebrated films of his like “Toni” and “The Crime of Mister Lange.” Renoir was the ultimate humanist filmmaker, a great observer of the human condition. Documentary influences were the films of Barbara Kopple, particularly Harlan County, U.S.A., 35 Up by Michael Apted, and The Times of Harvey Milk by Rob Epstein.
Tea thrown overboard. Freeing the prisoners. Knocking over a statue. Every revolution has a moment when the people say that they will no longer tolerate tyranny. In the case of Estonia, the Baltic nation that suffered under two of history’s most brutal and oppressive regimes, the Nazis and the Soviets, it was a song.
Laulupidu, the Estonian song festival held every five years that features 30,000 singers on stage In November 2003, UNESCO declared Estonias’s Song and Dance Celebration tradition a masterpiece of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity. In 1988, 300,000 Estonians in Tallinn sang national songs and hymns that were strictly forbidden during the years of the Soviet occupation, as Estonian rock musicians played. It signaled and hastened the end of Soviet domination.
I was delighted to see this film because my family has been to Estonia and we heard a little bit about the Singing Revolution when we were there. I began by asking Maureen and James Tusty how they came to make The Singing Revolution documentary.
MT: We never get tired of talking about it. We spent four years in production and the past year in distribution and promotion and we are still excited about it.
Jim’s father was born in Estonia, in Tallinn. We had a chance to teach in the first media program in the Baltics. We were teaching filmmaking and people started telling us stories. We asked ourselves, “How could we not have heard of this?” If we were ever going to take on a personal project this would be it. They came up with the name “the singing revolution.” It is central to the Estonian nature. It is such a small country and they are quite modest. People would talk about these events and we would say, “You did what?” “Oh, well, I told my mother and the babysitter to come,” they would say it so casually, and here was this event that was so transforming.
JT: The Estonians in particular dislike bragging and as a result they did not boast about what happened.
How did you shape the story as you filmed and edited?
JT: We shot about 40 days over about 3 months, February to July 2004. We pre-interviewed about 200 people, then interviewed about 40 on camera and of those maybe half of them ended up in the film. We wanted not only the leaders but also those who simply participated. One of the interesting things is that there was no one character to focus on, no central hero in the film. It is easier in one way because the entire nation is the hero. But it is a challenge in another way. How do you make that a personal story? The film gave the nation a personality.
The first singing protest was in 1988 after a rock concert. There was no one person saying, “Here’s what we do.” Everyone just came together. It was one of the pivotal events and the leaders emerge after the will of the people is evident.
How did the Estonians respond to the film?
JT: The film premiered in Estonia on December 1, 2006. We were concerned that they would feel, “Who are you to tell our story?” but we got an unprecedented standing ovation. I think it was good to have someone who cared about Estonia but who also had an arm’s length view and some objectivity. What they did not even really have a name at the time but now everyone thinks of it as “the singing revolution.”
There had been other versions of the story focused on all three of the major events, but this is the first one to show how these three movements interwove with one another. It was released theatrically in Estonia and became the most successful documentary ever shown there. The history of the song festival is a possible project for us in the future. It always had a political aspect – it was founded with a view against tsarist Russia.
MT: Part of the challenge was the way we represented the leaders. Many are still involved in Estonia today. We spent quite a bit of time to make sure we had the balance and accuracy of the events. We finally had all three of these different factions agreeing, “Yes, this is how it happened.” Each knew only what they had been talking about.
JT: We did that independently so they could each make sure we had their part right. It would be like getting Al Gore and George Bush to agree on the Florida recount!
And what about in the US?
MT: It was released just a year ago in NY and LA. We wanted to go for a theatrical run, but the majority of distributors were discouraging. We just felt this story would so resonate with people that we decided to go for it. It was held over for five weeks in NY. We were able to play in over 140 cities across the US and Canada and it is still playing even though the DVD is out.
JT: Part of what makes our film unique is that we had a regular theatrical release; it was not just an event film. We got to experience the film in many different cities. It brought in several different kinds of audiences: Baltic-Americans, singers, people interested in non-violence, and people in the freedom movement. It began with those four constituency groups in particular, and we would narrowcast our marketing, but then word would get around town and by the third week the general community would find us.
MT: Estonian choral music is quite known in the community of people who sing in choruses, so they really supported this film.
JT: And they are already organized, so they would come in groups.
What else have you done to help people understand the extraordinary events of the singing revolution?
MT: We have developed a three-DVD educational set for high schools and colleges with teacher materials, maps, and PowerPoint, so that schools can use this story to teach students not just about Estonia and this particular struggle but about non-violence and freedom fighting. To accomplish what they did without violence is really remarkable, especially with what they had lived through, an amazing human story.
JT: Ironically, the Estonians are quite an independent people, as they said, “The miracle is not that we beat the soviets, it is that we got hundreds of thousands of Estonians to hold hands together.” We have done dozens of films, but this one is highly personal and unique. We feel there are millions to reach with this story because of the grace and elegance of the protest and how effective they were. We think we have it hard sometimes, but look at the Estonians and see how they prevailed.
“Beacause it’s there.”
George Mallory’s reason for conquering Everest applies to feats of exploration and adventure that include traveling to the moon. This documentary shows us that it also explains how a French teenager leafing through a magazine at his doctor’s office could see a picture of the plans for building the two World Trade Center towers and instantly decide that when they were built, he would string a wire between them and walk across it.
In order to make it happen, tightrope walker Philippe Petit trained and planned for years, and this film shows us the combination of meticulous preparation, whimsical optimism, a lot of hubris, and some well-timed luck combined to make it happen on August 7, 1974, 34 years ago today. The article-less title of the film comes from the designation on Petit’s arrest form. A combination of current interviews with the participants, archival footage, and some mostly understated re-enactments makes this as mesmerizing as the most intricate heist film, and we find ourselves rooting for the young man who wanted to dance in the air and never tried to explain why to himself or anyone else — or profit from his stunt. The result is an exhilarating film about a pure gesture of art, courage, and folly that seems enchantingly gentle. It is also wrenchingly poignant. Every shot of the two towers reminds us of the aspirations of those who built them and the immeasurable loss of 9/11. Every element of the plan to circumvent security reminds us of those who attacked the towers out of hatred rather than joy. All the more important to see this reminder of a moment when a man danced in the air for the pure pleasure of giving himself and the people who watched him a reason to smile. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won’t see why we go. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life.
George Mallory
Parents should know that this film has some drug use and brief nudity with a post-wire-walking celebratory groupie.
Families who see this movie should talk about how people discover their dreams and what they should be willing to do to make them happen. How do the participants differ in their feelings about what happened?
If you like this, try: “Rififfi”
and 
. But I was also affected by less celebrated films of his like “Toni” and “The Crime of Mister Lange.” Renoir was the ultimate humanist filmmaker, a great observer of the human condition. Documentary influences were the films of Barbara Kopple, particularly 
, 
by Michael Apted, and 
by Rob Epstein. 