"And the Truth Shall Set You Free."

My aunt Tina has always been the misfit of the family. When she was a child, she had to wear an eye patch for several months due to a problem with one of her eye muscles. Her classmates tormented her for it. Later, as a teenager, she suffered from a condition that caused excessive body odor. Once again, she found herself subjected to continuous ridicule by the kids at school. It is no surprise, therefore, that for most of her childhood and teenage life, she struggled with a poor self-image.

Experts say that pedophiles are very adept at singling out children like my aunt; that they ‘know’ the ones that are most susceptible to coercion by kindness. Whether or not Shelby, Tommy’s father, used kindness or threats to convince my aunt to participate in his perverted sexual fantasies, she won’t say. But there is no doubt that the experience, and what happened afterwards, solidified her self-perception as a loser and a misfit.

Long before the interview, I knew about my aunt’s experience and how her parents treated her when she finally told them the truth. What I didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was how ashamed she was of what had happened, and the degree to which she blamed herself.

One of the most difficult tasks we have as documentarians is interviewing people about the traumatic experiences they have endured. Even when the person is a family member, the job doesn’t get any easier. The initial intent in interviewing my aunt was to focus on her close relationship and memories of Tom, but it soon became evident that I would need to ask her about her experiences with Shelby. For one, it gave credence to the claim that Shelby was a pedophile. Second, it provided a counterpoint to my grandmother’s insistence that her husband had been the only one to blame for what had happened to her son.

I didn’t warn my Aunt that I would be asking her about the ordeal she suffered, or its effects on her personally. The reason I didn’t was that I wanted her answers to be spontaneous and from the heart, regardless of whether she answered the questions or not. That’s exactly what I got and it is some of the most compelling footage of the entire piece.

In many ways, the interview and film forced my aunt to face her past and to reconcile its negative influence on her life. She started going to therapy, and now feels a greater freedom to talk about what happened and the hardships she has had to overcome. And even though she would still say that she is “damaged goods”, the fact is that since the interview,  her opinion of herself has only improved. She now realizes that she was not to blame for what was done to her, nor does she need to bear that guilt anymore.

Grizzly Bears and "Sexual Psychopaths"

First, let me apologize to my regular readers, (and I know for a fact there are more than a few of you ;) ), that I did not have a post for last Tuesday. I believe that I mentioned that I am a full-time student, and last week was midterms. Nuff said. I am currently on Spring Break and have chosen to use this time to conduct a significant portion of my research for my next project.

For those that don’t know, my next doc is about the Atascadero State Hospital (ASH) in California, and its mistreatment of homosexuals in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s. It was during this period that the hospital became a major research center into the treatment of what was then considered “sexual deviancy”. 

Homosexuals were considered “sexual psychopaths” until the 1960’s when the law was changed and they became “Mentally Disordered Sex Offenders”. They were committed without due process and for an indefinite period of time, during which they were subjected to electric shock therapy and an even more heinous treatment with a drug known as “Anectine”. They were tortured in an effort to “cure” them of their homosexuality.

I have been researching the subject since January and it has not been easy. For one, the State has not digitized any of the information regarding ASH and its policies or procedures; thus, the only way to get at it is by showing up at the Office of the Archives of California (OAC) in Sacramento and asking for whatever records they have left. The second major issue is that all of the really important stuff is protected by medical privacy laws like HIPAA.

Three weeks ago, I discovered a potential gold mine of info amongst the ‘restricted’ records held by the State. I had to submit a detailed justification to the State Archivist as to the reasons why I needed access to them. Understand that these are records that are not usually provided to an indie doc maker. But, thinking ‘creatively’ I realized that my research met their criteria for use and was able to convince them of my need. Thus, here I am, in Sac, spending hours a day going through some of the most boring files in State history. Yet still, I love it.

A large part of my pre-prod for “a final peace” was spent researching my family and my uncle’s history. It was like solving a family mystery, and became the most enjoyable part of the process. It is in the research that we learn the most about our subjects and begin to form our ideas and opinions on how to present them. That was true with “a final peace” and it is true with my new film as well. So far I have learned that homosexuals were made to participate in “group therapy” sessions with convicted pedophiles and rapists. They were also threatened and beaten by hospital staff in addition to the other mistreatment they endured. And yet, that is exactly what they did, they endured, and for that they are exemplary. 

If there is one thing I love about being a documentarian it is in the learning that there are always two sides to every story; and that there are often heroes. To me, the men that endured the horrific treatment at ASH are heroes, and it is my privilege to let others know about it.

So what about the “grizzly bears”? Last week, I saw Werner Herzog’s documentary about Timothy Treadwell, aka the “Grizzly Man”. Though I imagine most have already seen the film, I think it is a great example of how to approach a complex and largely unsympathetic subject. By the end, it had me wondering if Treadwell isn’t a modern day John Muir. I highly recommend it and would be interested in your opinion of Herzog’s work. The link above is only the trailer but the entire film is now available on Netflix. Next week we will continue the story of “a final peace” and the interview with my Aunt Tina. Till then, have a great week.

Grandma

As I have indicated previously, making a documentary about your family presents its own unique challenges and obstacles. Some, like those of my grandmother, are surmountable only by grace.

Soon after I decided to film “a final peace”, my grandmother was diagnosed in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. Her behavior had become erratic and she was inclined to unpredictable outbursts of emotion. In spite of this, her long-term memory seemed unaffected. She could easily recall moments from the past, 20, 30, and even 50 years previous.

Still, I questioned whether it was appropriate to subject her to the kind of questioning needed for the film. I feared that she would become overly emotional or even confrontational, or that she might not be able to remember anything.

At the same time, I realized she was critical to Tom’s story. As his mother, she had an understanding of his childhood and early adulthood that were irreplaceable.

Moreover, I recognized that my window of opportunity to interview her was rapidly closing. Soon her disease would begin to seriously affect her disposition and memory.

Ultimately, it was due to her insistence that she participate that my concerns were overcome; and I can only say now that I am glad for it. The witness my grandmother gave about her son was the first words she had said on the matter in over a decade, and they were probably her last.

The shoot was to be my first, EVER, as director and cinematographer. My crew was comprised of two film students, who I had taught to use the sound and lighting equipment, my daughter Sophie, and her friend Nolan (neither had ever worked on a film set). I was responsible for conducting the interview.

The location, the chapel at my grandmother’s retirement home, was selected for its obvious irony. I was about to reveal my grandmother’s complicity in the abuse of her daughter Tina and son, Tommy. I thought the religious motif would give the scene an added ‘density’.

If that sounds clinical, it’s because it is. It was during this interview that I realized the importance of detaching myself emotionally from what was being said. From the very beginning the content was extremely personal and emotional. At one point during the interview, I almost broke down crying. Viewing the process from a mostly ‘creative’ standpoint gave me space to hear what was being said without necessarily feeling it. Of course, this only worked to a point.

After the interview was over, I hugged my grandmother and we cried together for several minutes. It wasn’t a cathartic moment in the usual sense. We had only opened the infected wound. We hadn’t yet removed the dead tissue or treated it. That would come later. Still, in many ways it marked an important beginning for the film, and of the journey that was about to unfold.

I have not spoken to my grandmother since the interview.  I understand that she is well and is proud of me, and “a final peace”.  For that I am extremely grateful.  Despite her many failures, the interview revealed that she had also been a victim, and that the loss of her son had affected her more than anyone knew.