June 17, 1994: Subtle Choices Are Choices Nonetheless

ESPN's presentation of Brett Morgen's documentary June 17, 1994--part of the sports network's 30 for 30 series--opens with the director addressing the audience, saying:

June 17, 1994 is not your typical documentary. There are no talking head interviews, there's no narration, there's simply my editor, myself, and a bunch of footage. Over the last ten years what I've been trying to do is create non-fiction films that are what I call experiential. They're movies that take place in the past but are presented in the present tense. The reason we chose June 17, 1994 is just about every emotion that one relates to sports took place on that day.

I'm not sure whose idea it was to have Morgen describe his directing style before the start of the film, but that person should be commended. Leaving aside the fact that this introductory remark may provide evidence that there is, in fact, at least one talking head interview included in the film, Morgen's opening explanation is a necessary one. It's the first documentary I've seen that eschews reflective interviews and, even if the audience would be able to follow the action without this documentary staple, it takes something of a mental shift to realize that what we're watching is not a meditation on that June date through the lens of sixteen years of reflection: we're watching the on-the-spot reactions of those who witnessed these events unfold in real time. Morgen's introduction might not be the most elegant way to prepare the audience for this change, but I'll take what I can get from ESPN.

The film follows a single day of events in the sports world. The New York Rangers victory parade down the streets of Manhattan. The opening day of the Chicago-hosted World Cup. Arnold Palmer playing his final round of golf at the US Open. Game 5 of the NBA finals, featuring the Knicks and Rockets. A full slate of baseball games. And, of course, OJ's car chase.

The most interesting part of the film is some really great behind-the-scenes footage of Bob Costas, hosting NBC's coverage of the NBA finals. Costas, in these clips, discusses with his production staff how to handle the uncomfortable need to broadcast what was considered a rather important basketball game during what became one of the biggest news stories of the century. The viewer sees Costas desperately trying to determine how best to introduce the game even while OJ sits in the back of a speeding car with a gun to his head. This, in a nutshell, is the major theme of the movie: it's an exploration of how context and juxtaposition create meaning and how people respond to these juxtapositions. While Costas puts on a professional and appropriate face, Morgen throws everything together, forcing the viewer to assimilate six events at once. Trust me when I tell you that each event informs the others, as everything always does. What's fascinating here is that no one--except maybe those working the nation's newsrooms--could possibly have followed the day's events with a level of attention matched by Morgen's mashed-up day. June 17, 1994 as experienced by an average American bears only a slight resemblance to June 17, 1994 as experienced by the film's audience.

And this brings us back to Morgen's opening claim. Just because Morgen claims that this is a thoroughly experiential film, throwing the viewer back in time to 1994, doesn't mean that we have to believe him. As in all films, what the audience sees on-screen is highly curated. The very editing itself is nothing if not a subtle form of reflection, offering moments of commentary through juxtapositions that are anything but neutral. Jumping from OJ's 1985 NFL Hall of Fame induction speech in which he thanks Nicole for some of the best years of his life to an image of a bloody garment at the Simpson residence in 1994 says something. Bringing together footage of a high-speed car chase and a clip of OJ running through an airport on Hertz's dime says something. Apposing the Rangers Stanley Cup victory parade with the throngs who lined the California freeways to gawk at and cheer for OJ's infamous white Bronco says something. Of course, films are supposed to say things. That's the point. And no, this documentary does not faithfully represent how anyone actually experienced that warm June day, but, again, this is the point of film: to selectively tell a story, bringing together diverse elements while omitting needless ones. Morgen does that in spades.

Recommended.

Random Recommendation: Gunnin' For That #1 Spot

It's a beautiful day in New York City, 70s and sunny--the kind of day we've gone without for the last three weeks. How did I choose to spend the spectacular morning hours of this glorious day? I sat on a chair in my bedroom and watched a documentary on Hulu, specifically, a documentary on Hulu called Gunnin' For That #1 Spot. This 96 minute film--produced and directed by Adam Yauch, of Beastie Boys renown--follows a group of 2006's most highly-touted high-school basketball phenoms as they prepare for an elite exhibition game hosted by this country's most famous outdoor basketball court, Harlem's Rucker Park.

The film is divided into two main sections (not counting Hulu's intrusive and annoying ads; this is the first feature-length film I've watched using that site, and it might be the last, at least for a long while): interviews with eight of the high-school players along with their respective coaches, trainers, older brothers, parents, entourages, etc., and game footage of the exhibition contest. Except for a few moments, the game footage section is by far the less interesting portion. (Most of these fascinating moments involve Michael Beasley, now of the Miami Heat, as he alternates between outplaying his elite competition and trash-talking it.) It's of a high-school all-star game, which means that there is very little defense on display, but, more important, Yauch's heavy-handed directorial decisions result in quick-hitting action lacking any sense of coherence, with countless unnecessary multi-angle replays sprinkled in for good measure.

The first 50 minutes or so are much stronger, featuring interviews with high-school athletics experts on topics ranging from the business of ranking prep basketballers to the intense media scrutiny young players face today. But it's the interviews with the athletes themselves which makes this project worthwhile. I don't know if Yauch and friends deliberately delayed releasing the film for nearly three years past the date of the Rucker Park exhibition, but it turned out to be a smart move. As the introduction to an interview with Yauch on Hulu's blog notes:

If you’re a hoops fan, you may recognize some of the players featured: Four of them are pros — Jerryd Bayless (Portland Trail Blazers), Michael Beasley (Miami Heat), Kevin Love (Minnesota Timberwolves) and Donte Green (was with the Sacramento Kings) — and another two, Tyreke Evans (Memphis) and Brandon Jennings (playing in the Italian League), are participating in the NBA draft tonight. (Kyle Singler will remain at Duke; Lance Stephenson starts college in the fall).

This familiarity is an important point, as basketball fans get to see pretty extensive interviews with prominent young NBA players. I might be alone in this assessment, but I think it's great to see an 18 year-old Kevin Love talk to his mother about the girls that throw themselves at him when he visits Los Angeles. That's really the most interesting part of this project, seeing athletes interact with the media before they're completely comfortable with it. This film doesn't document the standard athlete-interview cliches--high-school is really the last time you get to see these players before they're media-trained. This documentary, of course, functions are part of their training and some of the differences evident over the course of the movie are striking. My favorite part of the film is the footage of Jerryd Bayless announcing his intention to attend the University of Arizona for college. In the middle of the proceedings, a middle-aged man (his coach? his father?) leans over and tells the best high-school player in the state of Arizona to look up when he talks. And yet, in Yauch's interviews filmed only a few month later, Bayless looks completely comfortable in front of the camera. It's hard to tell from this film how these players develop as basketball players from the time their high-school careers end to the point when they reach the NBA or major college ball, but it's easy to see how they learn to deal with the attention that surrounds them, from press conferences, to magazine covers, to interviews, to, yes, even documentaries produced and directed by a Beastie Boy.

Taste the Happy, Michael

Via Kottke, here's the trailer for a soon-to-be-released documentary about Arrested Development.



Judging from the trailer, it seems the documentarians aim to uncover why America didn't love this show as much it should have.