Archive for August 28, 2006

Katrina Grief

Today is the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, and it is Katrina Blogswarm day as well. Here’s my contribution.

Political writers better-informed than I can talk about the horrendous incompetent evil political shit of Katrina. New Orleanians can talk about the devastation from ground-level. I think and write best when I make it personal, and what is personal to me about Katrina is grief and the absence of grief.

Where is the grief? I have asked before when we, as a culture, became so gorram harsh. As a companion to that, when did we become so numb? We aren’t we hurting?

I can point especially to the far right; the Limbaughs and O’Reillys and their evil minions who are okay with torture and okay with the death of children and okay with the drowning of a city. But has it infected the rest of us? Because what I don’t see is just the sadness, just the sense of loss. From that would arise outrage; from that would arise the will to change.

We have seen the destruction of an American city, and we have grieved for a couple of weeks, and then we’ve gone back to Project Runway. I grieve for New Orleans, and I grieve for us, who are so numb, as well.

Monday Movie Review: Capturing the Friedmans

Capturing the Friedmans (2003) 9/10
In 1984, Arnold Friedman is arrested for child pornography. While searching his home, the police discover that Friedman is a teacher, and has computer classes at home. Soon he is under suspicion of molesting a large number of students, and suspicion falls upon his youngest son Jesse as well. (Documentary)

Capturing the Friedmans challenges our ideas of what we know, and of what conclusions we can draw. 1984 was the height of the McMartin daycare case, and there was a lot of hysteria about the evils of child care and the dread thing that could happen to children.

But Arnold Friedman was not the innocent victim of a bizarre accusation. He was a pedophile with child pornography hidden in his home. The suspicions cast on him seem to have been based in fact. But were they?

The Friedmans were a family fascinated by videography. The documentarians were blessed with access to a large number of homemade family videos taken before and during the case. We watch as a family disintegrates before our eyes. One brother, Seth, declines to appear in the film. David, the eldest, believes his father is utterly innocent, even of pedophilia, regardless of any evidence. David is furious; with his mother, with the media, with everyone. The youngest, Jesse, is simply resigned and sad.

The film finds a very few of Friedman’s accusers who are willing to talk. Some stand by their stories and some do not. One young adult tells of the enormous pressure put on him as a child to confirm that Arnold molested him, and finally caving in. An investigator speaks, in all seriousness, of how important it is to pressure children and put words in their mouths. He seems sincerely to believe that this is best for the children.

Yet there is something wrong here. There is no way of reading this as tragic victims versus outrageous accusations. The uncomfortable perch is between somewhat guilty parties (at least in Arnold’s case) versus accusations with a grain or more of truth. The accusations are fueled by, but not an invention of, hysteria. They are blown up, expanded upon, and nurtured, until their scope is beyond belief.

While this happens to the community, what happens to the Friedmans? Each deals alone with anger, shock, and terror. They don’t come together as a family; they shatter, and to a great extent, they remain shattered twenty years later.

This isn’t a comfortable film, nor is it a lurid one. It asks us to look at what we see and simply, calmly, think. It is remarkable how difficult that is. For some people in the film (and indeed, for some people who have reviewed it), it remains out of reach.