Give me a BigMac

We can see that SuperSize Me fits squarely in the expository mode: it is overtly argumentative; VO dominates the film; it is directed to the viewer; its editing maintains rhetorical continuity; and, by continually visiting doctors, etc. it aims toward a sense of objective judgment ("the charts don't lie"). Yet, as we will see this week, the film also follows some of the strategies of the interactive mode: the doctors, et al he recruits for the experiment become the textual authority that the editing practices of another film would be (say, inCapturing). The ease of this assignment points to the ultimate lack of necessity of categorizing documentaries into specific modes: we know nothing more about the film by assigning it a mode. Moreover,Supersize Me employs techniques of at least two of the modes.

documentary as a Capturing

I admit to being ambivalent about Capturing the Friedmans.

On one hand the film does a fine job of validating the claim that documentary is more of an "experience" than an "object" (a topic we'll discuss this coming week). We are acutely aware that we are somehow active in piecing together the story. Moreover, we are aware of the film's very conscious (recognizable, not hidden) awareness that it too is putting this enigmatic puzzle together. We can recognize the choices the film has made in framing (the male on the couch) and in editing (intercutting between home video and contemporary footage). I don't mind a film's overt activeness in this manner (see any Errol Morris film, e.g.).

On the other hand (though I am sure there are more than two hands here), the film is frustrating in this very way. For instance, Debbie Nathan, the journalist who looks into false memory/sex abuse cases, is quite intentionally not given the space to develop a linear story. The film consciously stops her narrative telling and moves to another's view so often that it leaves me wanting to hear more from her (actually, she seems the only one able to tell the "whole" of the story). It's as if the film withholds information for its own "artistic/creative/power" benefit.

Thus, I admit I picked this film because of what it exposes about documentary film(-making), more than about what story it tells us.

The True Meaning of Pictures

All,

Ah, the first opportunity to post. Here's my ideas:

The film's ability to present both sides of a debate about the ethics (though the film never uses this word) of a documentary artist, his subject, and the viewer remains with me strongly. That is, the film, even in presenting on a real debate on a real (memorable) subject nonetheless leaves the viewer in the middle (unlike, say, a Michael Moore film, which adamantly takes a side on its subject). The viewer, therefore, still has some contemplation at hand.

Does Shelby Lee Adams's photography exploit those he claims he is merely showing to the world, the world into which he continually reminds the viewer he was born? Remember, the one "holler" dweller who claims she's been "schooled" (ie, went to college) is the only one of them to also claim that the photos are exploitative. In contrast, another (near the end of the film) sees nothing wrong with the types of photos Adams takes, and she presents some pretty clear justifications for such a view. Which is correct? Is either correct? Do their comments expose more about the artistic and viewing processes than necessarily about the validity of their claims?

As you can read from my post here, we are not so much interested whether or not you like the week's film as much as we are in the ways it engages you, the ways it is put together, and the effects that such construction have on the viewing process. Moreover, with a film such as The True Meaning..., we can make argumentative claims about the ways the film is also a document about the tension between artist, subject, and viewer (really, though, this is fodder for discussion with every film).

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just a test