“My belief is that prisoners are sent to prison as punishment, not for punishment.”
–Former warden of Florida State Prison Ron McAndrew
Your father provided intelligence training to you. You’re so crafty you may as well be the love child of the CIA and Green Berets. Your mother may have inflicted Shaken Baby Syndrome on you. You used to frustrate her, and she was known for shaking it out of you. You’re 19. Your father dies. You pick up his tools he bequeathed to you, only, you have no idea what probate law is, and your stepmother calls the police. You’re arrested, because your father’s will has not been legally processed. Probate law is when a court accepts and validates a will. You never understand and register this concept. Local authorities are not concerned with your level of understanding and you’re arrested. All you know is that you don’t like jail and you want to get out. You begin a “war of irritation” to break out, and early on this includes LSD, a coffeepot, and a redhead. A psychologist comes into assess you. He doesn’t really like you because you’re a pain in the ass and people find your personality unpalatable. Several inmates and prison guards provide accounts of how crazy you are, but you’re so clever the psychologist Dr. Berland says you are faking it, and you can stay in jail. And so you plot. You might have brain damage, so you have no idea what is beyond the walls, or what you will do when you’re out.
Using fragments of animation to manifest the frenetic energy of what director Gabriel London calls a “comic book style size of life,” THE MIND OF MARK DEFRIEST surpasses every possible threshold of pain that has a conceivable expression within the human condition. The film is the culmination of a 14-year process that began when director Gabriel London started researching the nationwide issue of prison rape. After connecting with the organization “Stop Prison Rape,” London poured through 15 years of letters from escape artist Mark DeFriest. Known as Houdini for his escape attempts and jailbreaks, DeFriest was thrown into solitary confinement for 26 out of his 30 years (and counting) in prison. DeFriest has been tortured, brutally gang-raped, and denied sunlight for years at a time. To survive in prison, heterosexual DeFriest created an alterego, “Wendy,” and dressed the part for protection. He witnessed the brutal murder by correctional officers of Frank Valdez and was transferred to a new prison for protection. Time and time again, the Florida Commissioners reviewing his parole of near perfect behavior after decades of escapes hemmed and hawed because his punishment wasn’t enough. Former Florida State Prison Warden Ron McAndrew says in the film, “We turned a low level non-violent offender into what Mark has become. We failed Mark DeFriest.”
“If we as a society are interested in protection, than we should be trying to get it right in justice.”
–Laura Ricciardi
Unless you have sworn off all forms of media, chances are you’re aware of the recent popularity of the true crime genre. After The Jinx and Serial, the latest series that’s taken true crime by storm is Netflix’s Making A Murderer.
On February 25, The Stranger Than Fiction documentary series presented The Making of MAKING A MURDERER, a one-of-a-kind event hosted by DOC NYC Artistic Director Thom Powers. Powers conducted a live 90-minute interview with Laura Ricciardi and Moira Demos, directors of the 10-episode Netflix documentary series MAKING A MURDERER, released in December 2015. The interview unpacked the production and editing of the ten year documentary process, and concluded with key takeaways of the series. Cinephiles had the opportunity to view selected clips from the series, and hear from the special guests of the evening: production advisor Maureen Ryan, editor Mary Manhardt, and Civil Rights lawyer Stephen Glynn.
Steven Avery of Manitowoc, Wisconsin was exonerated in 2003 for wrongful conviction after serving 18 years in prison. In an unprecedented boomerang turn of events, Avery was arrested in 2005, and in 2007, sentenced to life in prison for murder. MAKING A MURDERER documents the most controversial investigation Wisconsin has ever seen. On a grander scale, it shines a light on the cracks triggered by the rigidity of the United States justice system, reinforced by “an unwarranted certitude on the part of police officers and prosecutors and defense lawyers and judges and jurors that they’re getting it right, that they simply are right.” This comment was made by Avery’s lawyer Dean Strang in the series, and he emphasized the “tragic lack of humility of everyone who participates in our criminal justice system.” Consequently, STF’s The Making of MAKING A MURDERER unveiled a deeper examination of the United States justice system.
“It was necessary for us to go to these places where history was being made and say let’s have that alternative record.”
–Skip Blumberg, Videofreex member
In the 1960s there were three major news networks and CBS ruled the airwaves. Youth movements were in full force all over the country championing Women’s Liberation, fighting for Civil Rights, and protesting the war in Vietnam. As attitudes and perspectives changed and voices of a generation made themselves heard, technology, too, was changing. The portable hand held video camera was born. Equipped with instant playback, it imprinted on the generational landscape an inexpensive and accessible tool to capture the times. A group of intrepid journalists flocked to this method of storytelling, and baptized their renegade collective as the Videofreex.
In theaters March 9, the Stranger Than Fiction documentary series treated its audience to a sneak peek of HERE COME THE VIDEOFREEX, directed by Jon Nealon and Jenny Raskin. Extracted from obsolete technology, reels and reels of archival footage reveal stories of a generation documented by the Videofreex. In person for the screening, Video freak Skip Blumberg said, “We were trying to find out what was unique to this brand new medium and the fact that you could just roll.”
At first glance, Robert Eads appears to be the picture of traditional Southern masculinity. In addition to his attire (cowboy hat, boots), he owns a gun, loves to barbecue, has a deep religious faith, and is the patriarch of his extended family. He was also born “Barbara” and his family consists of what he calls his “chosen family”: fellow transgender men and women who attempt to live their lives with dignity and integrity, despite society’s rigid gender norms. Robert’s life is the subject of the film SOUTHERN COMFORT, which premiered in 2001 and was screened Tuesday at Stranger Than Fiction. STF’s host, Thom Powers, introduced the film as one of his personal favorites, but also one that has renewed interest due to a new musical, based on the acclaimed documentary, which premiered at the Public Theater last month.
Recent favorites like Serial, The Jinx and Making a Murderer have sparked a widespread obsession with mystery documentaries where the layers are slowly peeled back to reveal the truth. But ABDUCTION: THE MEGUMI YOKOTA STORY set a high bar back in 2006, so chances may be you haven’t seen it. The documentary is currently not available on streaming favorites like Netflix and SundanceNow Doc Club (I’ll cross my fingers for you that that changes soon). The gripping story of a 13-year Japanese girl kidnapped by North Koreans has enough twists and turns to leave even the most suspense-hungry viewers utterly satisfied.
During Tuesday night’s screening at Stranger than Fiction at the IFC theater, author of the book The Invitation-Only Zone: The True Story of North Korea’s Abduction Robert Boynton joined moderator Hugo Perez on stage. Boynton’s book explores the phenomena of Japanese and South Korean kidnappings by the North Korean regime. Some of the kidnappees were eventually allowed to return to Japan following large-scale social protests spearheaded by the victims’ families.
In one particularly arresting scene, viewers are taken into the room where a North Korean defector who participated in these kidnapping missions is being interviewed.
“It’s not that hard to kill someone,” he says matter-of-factly. “It’s like animal.”
His voice rises and he notes in a frighteningly-genuine way, “It’s easier.”
