Not sure if I should post this here as this thread seems to have run out of gas, but since I'd written most of it anyway I'll just run with it.
Last Thursday as I
expected turned out to be the last day this year's short-doc nominees screened in my hood (OTOH the live-action and animated nominees are still playing here and most likely in your own area as well, so check your local listings), and I was fortunate to make it to the theater that day... just in time for the very last 7:45 pm screening, with literally seconds to spare. Talk about a close call.
Let's start with the good: I was glad to see a fairly high number of attendees lining up or already seated, most if not all of them young (I'd say the auditorium was at least half full). Now the bad: though I admit I'm not the most qualified judge as this is one of the few Oscar categories I haven't followed closely in the past, I got the sense that this year's documentary shorts matched their fictional counterparts in trailing their predecessors of recent vintage. Which brings us to the ugly: all the five nominees this year were USA releases, which could be a mere coincidence but I suspect constitutes gross negligence on the Academy's part. The short films are generally among the few Oscar categories where the manufactured and often bogus line between domestic and foreign films begins to blur as it should, but if we're going to show such a blind spot for "our own" then perhaps we should create a separate one for "them" as we already do for the foreign-language features - not only for the viewers who already share my preference to see a greater slice of the world spotlighted by the film industry's biggest pageant, but also for the would-be converts who may harbor similar inclinations but don't know it yet.
But that's not to dismiss the five nominees as middling entertainment. On the contrary they all dealt with serious subjects that steered clear of cheap demagoguery even in this age of BLM and #MeToo, which tells me the Academy at least did some homework. Below is a capsule review of each film (note that Traffic Stop and Heroin(e) are now available on HBO and Netflix respectively, hence the brackets).
Heaven Is a Traffic Jam on the 405 - It's easy to see why this took home the Oscar: an inspiring tale of an artist (Mindy Alper) who has channeled a lifelong history of mental illness and family alienation into her distinctive art which eventually gains recognition against all odds, punctuated by her coming to grips with the death of her abusive father and reconciliation with her mother whom she claims to speak with on the phone daily. Such is the hopeful spirit of this film that I'm sorry to say its failure to explore beyond the confines of the artist's admittedly compelling personal history made it for me the weakest of the nominees.
Traffic Stop [HBO] - The remarkable thing about this short is how its subject - Breaion King, a 26-year-old African-American female schoolteacher from Austin, TX, whose sadly unsurprising brush with the police for a routine traffic violation thrusts her into an unwelcome national limelight - confounds the usual tropes about structural racism (not only is the protagonist a woman but she also happens to be a self-made member of the middle class with plans for a doctorate) without being no less mighty a weapon against it. Yet as a work of cinema it is rather threadbare. There must be dozens of PBS shows that have tackled the same issues as effectively, and the fact that HBO bankrolled this production was probably a sign of what was to be expected as well as what could have been.
Heroin(e) [Netflix] - You might have heard that Huntington, West Virginia, has been called the overdose capital of America where the OD rate is 10 times the national average, and as a portrait of the town's exhausting and exhaustive efforts to fight the opioid epidemic - spearheaded by the tireless Jan Rader (who is installed as the first female chief of the Huntington Fire Department over the course of the film) and the affable Judge Patricia Keller - this documentary hits the right marks in its brief duration. But if director Elaine McMillion Sheldon wanted to shine a light on the epidemic itself, her film is seriously compromised by its refusal or failure to consider the ample research indicating that only a vanishingly small percentage of people (as little as
1 percent) who take prescribed pain medication show signs of opioid misuse (a broader umbrella than addiction). Viewers interested in a more thorough investigation that shows the personal and socioeconomic roots of this critical subject are advised to look elsewhere.
Knife Skills - Another uplifting story with its heart in the right place, this time that of Edwins Leadership & Restaurant Institute in Cleveland whose mission to provide second chances to men and women recently released from prison, no doubt informed by restaurateur Brandon Chrostowski's own background (he's an ex-con himself), makes it impossible not to root for them. The Edwins eatery's aim to become the best traditional French restaurant in America is quixotic in the best sense, though I question the wisdom of trying to help these oft-shunned members of society through the avenue of haute cuisine and especially within such a compressed time frame (they're asked to learn all their necessary skills in six weeks!) and would've liked to find out more about the course of their post-Edwins journey, which may or may not correspond with the institute's ultimate purpose.
Edith+Eddie - I've saved the best for last. As a Virginian who used to live (and still do) less than a 30-minute drive from the protagonists' former Alexandria home I'm ashamed to admit I'd never heard of this extraordinary couple, reportedly America's then oldest interracial newlyweds, and watching the palpable pain they're forced to endure and eventually succumb to as they're torn asunder by a heartless bureaucracy (Eddie dies shortly after their breakup) is as heartbreaking as it is infuriating. And while director Laura Checkoway is careful not to address the potential racial subtext directly, the image of Edith's independent guardian Jessica Niesen, a local white attorney, directing her client in a routine fashion as she facilitates her legally mandated transfer to Florida despite (according to the film) having never met the couple beforehand speaks for itself.
Of course there's always more than one side to any contentious story, and I refer those who'd like to find out more about this one to
Judith Graham's evenhanded report for Kaiser Health News. Having said that I must add Ms. Graham betrays her own bias when she speaks of "the other story of Edith+Eddie," as if there were only two possible versions of this sad episode. It's not surprising that KHN, "an editorially independent program of the Kaiser Family Foundation" according to the
official website, would still be inclined to portray a favorable picture of assisted living facilities, a major component of today's health care system, and it seems to me a classic case of missing the forest for the trees at best to criticize Checkoway's film as misleading when it accomplishes her stated goal of focusing on the love story while confirming her preconception (or, yes, bias if you insist) about how the system dehumanizes and fails to serve the very people it's supposed to help. The truth of the matter is that in dealing with such thorny issues as end-of-life care, ageism, racism and family resentment you're bound to gravitate towards an agenda which, no matter how carefully considered, will fall short of covering all the angles, and if Checkoway's film is wanting in certain respects that's not necessarily a failing on her part as long as she acknowledges what her agenda is, which she has in her response to Graham.
Rather if there's one major fault to be found with Checkoway's film, though it could hardly be called that, it's the likely coincidence that its spiritual predecessor, Leo McCarey's unsung 1937 masterpiece Make Way for Tomorrow, is quite possibly the single greatest cinematic exploration of the cruelties society inflicts upon the elderly. (Its only rival is Ozu's now canonical Tokyo Story, which happens to be loosely based on McCarey's original, and while I'd normally be happy to see a foreign arthouse film being far more widely acknowledged than a Hollywood movie my allegiance in this case lies with the latter.) So I urge you to give Edith+Eddie a shot, but don't forget about McCarey's sublime weepie (that's not a contradiction in terms!).