Reenactments Done Right

Having spent years working on historical documentaries for The History Channel and various museums, I became an expert in the creation of low budget reenactments that would form the basis for narrated stories of Revolutionary War battles and Civil War prison camps. These projects taught me how to make fake blood out of just about anything, stuff myself into a uniform when not enough reenactors showed up to fill out our crowd scene and aim a muzzle-loader like I actually was going to shoot someone. They also showed me how much room there is for creativity outside of the cookie-cutter marching and firing we were doing.

The use of reenactment is ongoing issue among documentary filmmakers - how to use them, when they're appropriate (scream the purists, "never!"), and how to differentiate them from authentic footage or photos. Documentary filmmaker Errol Morris, writing for the New York Times, did an excellent job of describing how he justifies the use of reenactment in his films. Many would argue that a story that has no existing visuals doesn't actually lend itself to filmmaking - that it should remain in the world of print. This seems unnecessarily limiting, and instead of hard and fast rules about the use of reenactment, I think our filmmaking focus should be on making reenactments BETTER. They're frequently a necessary part of filmic storytelling, so the challenge is to present them in a creative way that presents no confusion for the viewer about what is real and what isn't.

A fine example of this art can be found in Wisconsin Death Trip, a 1999 film based on Michael Lesy's book of the same name. The film's narration is scripted entirely from 19th century reports from the Black River Falls, WI newspaper with occasional excerpts from the records of the nearby Mendota Asylum for the Insane. To illustrate these macabre, lonely and sometimes humorous accounts, Writer/Director James Marsh used elaborate and lovely reenactments that are some of the best I've seen. Intermixed with these reenactments are historic 19th century photographs taken in the area, though the viewer is never confused (or, I'd argue, concerned with) what is authentic and what is reenactment.

Take a look at the 10 minute excerpt below to see for yourself.

Inappropriate on public transportation

I cried on the L this morning.

It was a quiet, tears-streaming-down-face kind of crying, not a loud, sobbing, fist-pounding freak out, but crying nonetheless.

This made me start thinking about all the inappropriate things I've seen on public transportation. These include:
- woman plucking her eyebrows
- man clipping his fingernails onto the ground
- woman brushing her hair and then cleaning the brush out and throwing the hair on the floor
- countless examples of nose picking/eating
- loud and graphic conversations about sex
- the painting of fingernails (this was both ill-advised given the motion of the train AND smelly)

I'm curious what other inappropriate things you've seen on public transit, which many seem to perceive as a space so public that it might as well as private.

Anything to add?

The Staircase

Happy new year!

For all of those who have missed my inconsistent blogging (er, that means you, Bob). I'm back, and one of my goals for 2009 is to be less inconsistent. "More consistent" seems like too much of a stretch. Baby steps, and all that.

One of the many reasons I've been absent from this space is that last weekend I became obsessed with the documentary series The Staircase. This 8 hours series, originally broadcast on the Sundance Channel, chronicles the case against Michael Peterson, a novelist who's accused of killing his wife. The French crew began filming a few week's after Peterson's arrest, and continued following the story for several years. While Peterson's defense is based on his contention that his wife fell down the stairs, the prosecution contends that Peterson beat her to death after a fight about his extramarital affairs.

With several unexpected revelations and amazing access to all involved parties - the family, the prosecution, the defense, and the courtroom, this true story is more engrossing than any Law & Order episode could ever be. The story begins with the arrest and ends on the verdict, and every second of it is incredibly compelling filmmaking. Do yourself a favor during these cold, dark winter months. Rent both discs from Netflix, hunker down and commit yourself to a day/weekend of hearing the case and deciding whether or not Peterson is guilty.

But don't research the case before you watch! The drama of the story depends largely on not knowing how it will all end.