{"id":2875,"date":"2018-01-28T19:37:02","date_gmt":"2018-01-28T19:37:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/commarts.pleather.us\/2018\/01\/28\/sundance-documentaries-were-first-rate-but-that-doesnt-mean-theyre-coming-to-theaters\/"},"modified":"2018-01-28T19:37:02","modified_gmt":"2018-01-28T19:37:02","slug":"sundance-documentaries-were-first-rate-but-that-doesnt-mean-theyre-coming-to-theaters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/2018\/01\/28\/sundance-documentaries-were-first-rate-but-that-doesnt-mean-theyre-coming-to-theaters\/","title":{"rendered":"Sundance Documentaries Were First-Rate, But That Doesn\u2019t Mean They\u2019re Coming to Theaters"},"content":{"rendered":"

What makes a documentary<\/a> suited to a theatrical release\u2014and all the expense and effort associated with it? And when are they more appropriate for smaller screens? After several straight months of disappointing box-office sales for most nonfiction films, including several hits from last year\u2019s Sundance<\/a>, this question would seem to be a pressing one out of this year\u2019s film festival. But the answer\u2014as evidenced by the few distribution deals that closed before and during Sundance, those that are still pending, and those that should be\u2014isn\u2019t so easy to nail down, though some combination of topicality, celebrity or artistry certainly comes into play.<\/p>\n

Before Sundance kicked off, Oscar-winner Morgan Neville\u2019s Mister Rogers film \u201cWon\u2019t You Be My Neighbor?\u201d was one of the few documentaries to already have a major theatrical distributor (Focus Features) behind it\u2014and its rapturous Park City unveiling appeared to justify it. Unlike its description might suggest, the film transcends the standard bio-pic format to become a highly resonant and timely look at America\u2019s culture wars. Who would have thought that a Republican cardigan-wearing Presbyterian-trained minister with a message of tolerance and civility could be our best response to the current President? Set to ignite political debate at the same time as it soothes liberal arthouse audiences, it was one of the festival\u2019s most uniformly embraced docs.<\/p>\n

Magnolia Pictures\u2019 mid-week acquisition of \u201cRBG,\u201d a lively, though conventional portrait about Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, is also instructive. While the film offers a straightforward and hagiographic account of the judge\u2019s rise through the ranks of America\u2019s patriarchal institutions and her close marriage with Martin Ginsburg, there\u2019s nothing particularly captivating here\u2014except for the fact that it\u2019s a rousing activist cry for one of the year\u2019s most significant issues: Women\u2019s rights. If Magnolia\u2019s release of \u201cI Am Not Your Negro\u201d was able to capture last year\u2019s \u201cGet Out\u201d\/Black Lives Matter zeitgeist, \u201cRBG\u201d will only become more relevant as Trump continues to attack her and search for her replacement\u2014a fact that makes this documentary one of the festival\u2019s most timely.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

“RBG”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

For a more punk-rock feminist portrait, there was the Joan Jett film \u201cBad Reputation,\u201d another chronological survey of a life\u2019s upswing within a male-dominated system. Though likely to play better to the musician\u2019s fan base, the rock-doc also taps directly into the contemporary women\u2019s power movement, showing the life of Jett as a female trailblazer who didn\u2019t give a damn and paved the way for women in the music industry.<\/p>\n

There were many\u2014probably too many\u2014other profiles of famous people, including \u201cJane Fonda in Five Acts\u201d and \u201cRobin Williams: Come Inside My Head,\u201d both set for HBO broadcast, as well as traditional portraits of director Hal Ashby (\u201cHal\u201d)) and artist Yayoi Kusama (\u201cKusama \u2013 Infinity\u201d). What makes these nonfiction films more befitting a night out at the movies versus cozying up with them on the couch?<\/p>\n

Among the best of the HBO docs, \u201cKing in the Wilderness,\u201d a compelling and astutely constructed archival-driven look at the last contentious years in the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., stands out precisely because it\u2019s not biographical tribute, but a focused chronicle of a combustible time when the stakes reached a fever pitch for the Civil Rights leader. But while \u201cKing in the Wilderness\u201d is riveting and relevant to the persistent struggle for racial equality, its historical framework may limit its theatrical prospects.<\/p>\n

On the other hand, \u201cThree Identical Strangers,\u201d purchased by Neon mid-week, reflects what it takes to make a film break out without celebrities or timely issues. Reminiscent of last year\u2019s Sundance true-conspiracy docs \u201cTickled\u201d and \u201cIcarus,\u201d \u201cStrangers\u201d has that WTF-mystique built into its sensationalistic narrative of triplets separated at birth who only learned of each other when they were 19-years-old. But what begins buoyantly, full of fun \u201870s reenactments and archival footage of their brief time in the limelight (they appeared briefly with Madonna in \u201cDesperately Seeking Susan\u201d), eventually turns darker and, as a result, becomes a more enriching and emotional experience about fathers and sons, nature versus nurture.<\/p>\n

\"David<\/p>\n

David Kellman, Eddy Galland, and Bobby Shafran in “Three Identical Stangers”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Courtesy of Sundance Institute<\/p>\n

This year\u2019s U.S. Documentary Competition, as always, had its fair share of straight-up advocacy docs (\u201cInventing Tomorrow,\u201d \u201cDark Money,\u201d \u201cThe Devil We Know,\u201d \u201cKailash\u201d), all of which will find their niche audiences. But the future of the section\u2019s most cinematic docs is uncertain: Robert Greene\u2019s \u201cBisbee \u201817,\u201d an elegiac and captivating journey into American history, identity, and division, as enacted by a small Arizona town; RaMell Ross\u2019s \u201cHale County, This Morning, This Evening,\u201d a strikingly photographed, impressionistic study of black rural Southern life; and Michael Dweck\u2019s \u201cThe Last Race,\u201d an operatic Gates of Heaven-inspired look at stock-car racing and its fading Long Island community.<\/p>\n

If any of this year\u2019s non-fiction achievements should be experienced on the big screen, it\u2019s these. You can also add in Sandi Tan\u2019s World Documentary Competition title \u201cShirkers,\u201d a film critic\u2019s darling, which features cineastes and lots of classic film clips, as it follows the filmmaker\u2019s quest to uncover the truth behind her mentor, and the unfinished independent movie he stole from her years before. But it\u2019s unclear if theatrical distributors will take a risk on this type of film. Is aesthetic creativity and mastery enough to propel it into cinemas?<\/p>\n

There were other competition docs that shrewdly combine sensitive observational filmmaking with larger social agendas, such as the excellent \u201cOn Her Shoulders,\u201d \u201cCrime + Punishment,\u201d and \u201cMinding the Gap.\u201d In each case, the filmmaker takes a central issue and deepens it with penetrating explorations of character. In \u201cOn Her Shoulders,\u201d director Alexandria Bombach tracks ISIS victim-turned-activist Nadia Murad in her campaign to raise awareness for her ethnic group\u2019s devastation, but the film\u2019s quieter in-between moments and intimate portraiture powerfully expresses the painful slog and personal psychological toll of making social change.<\/p>\n

Similarly, Stephen Maing\u2019s \u201cCrime + Punishment\u201d is an essential investigative documentary about corruption in the NYPD department, whose illegal quota policies continue to disrupt communities of color, but the film comes alive with its empathic look at its whistleblowing cops, particularly Edwin Raymond, a well-spoken officer who eloquently speaks truth to power. Bing Liu\u2019s \u201cMinding the Gap\u201d also skillfully balances social issues with compelling characters as it follows several years in the lives of a group of skateboarding male friends in the Midwest as they grapple with the legacy of family abuse. In previous years, the strength of content in these three films may have been enough to push them into wider distribution, but nowadays, it may not be enough.<\/p>\n

\"Kendale<\/p>\n

Kendale McCoy in “America To Me”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Courtesy of Sundance Institute<\/p>\n

But maybe the definition of \u201ctheatrical\u201d matters less these days anyway. Consider that two of the biggest nonfiction productions at Sundance, hailing from Oscar-nominated filmmakers Matthew Heineman and Steve James, respectively, are TV projects. Heineman\u2019s multi-faceted expose of the opioid crisis through the eyes of the growers, addicts, cartel bosses and law enforcement officials will premiere on Showtime on February 2. And in the largest documentary deal of Sundance, Starz reportedly paid $5 million to acquire James\u2019 10-part series \u201cAmerica to Me,\u201d a binge-worthy longitudinal study of race\u2014and racial disparities\u2014in education as seen through the microcosm of one large suburban Chicago high school, and its cast of eminently engaging students and teachers. If Heineman and James don\u2019t need theaters, maybe the rest of Sundance\u2019s doc-makers don\u2019t, either.<\/p>\n

Source: IndieWire film<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

What makes a documentary suited to a theatrical release\u2014and all the expense and effort associated with it? And when are they…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":245,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_oasis_is_in_workflow":0,"_oasis_original":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_vp_format_video_url":"","_vp_image_focal_point":[],"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[45],"class_list":["post-2875","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-careering"],"acf":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paqOTj-Kn","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2875","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/245"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2875"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2875\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2875"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2875"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.valdosta.edu\/m2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2875"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}