Based on Michael Lesey's 1973 book of the same name, "Wisconsin Death Trip" dramatizes a series of gruesome and strange events that occurred in northern Wisconsin in the late-19th century: Murders, suicides, arsons, and a number of other odd (and often violent) transgressions.
This under-seen docudrama is, visually speaking, a considerable accomplishment. Lesey's book features historical photographs along with actual newspaper clippings detailing all of the odd occurrences in the region, and this film version also utilizes some of those photographs, but the black-and-white reenactments of them are stunning and expressionistic, resembling a cross between the photography of Diane Arbus and the films of Carl Dreyer. The footage has a surreal quality that traps the viewer in a dreamlike haze.
Narratively speaking, "Wisconsin Death Trip" does not possess much of a story per se, as its numerous vignettes splash across the screen in the same random nature as the events actually occurred--however, there are some throughline stories that are woven from the beginning through the end, in particular that of a cocaine-addicted schoolteacher with a fixation for breaking windows throughout the area, and another regarding an eccentric opera singer who arrives in town and may or may not be an imposter. Interspersed are capsulated tales of gruesome murders, suicides, religious delusions, disease, and mental illness, each narrated by James Marsh.
The film is bolstered by a baroque musical score that helps render the reenactments in a manner that is highly dramatic, unnerving, and gorgeous by turns. While some may find the film as a whole unsatisfying due to its splintered nature, the stories contained in it are very human, and demonstrative of the fact that our idea of the "good old days" is more or less a romanticized fantasy of the past. 9/10.
This under-seen docudrama is, visually speaking, a considerable accomplishment. Lesey's book features historical photographs along with actual newspaper clippings detailing all of the odd occurrences in the region, and this film version also utilizes some of those photographs, but the black-and-white reenactments of them are stunning and expressionistic, resembling a cross between the photography of Diane Arbus and the films of Carl Dreyer. The footage has a surreal quality that traps the viewer in a dreamlike haze.
Narratively speaking, "Wisconsin Death Trip" does not possess much of a story per se, as its numerous vignettes splash across the screen in the same random nature as the events actually occurred--however, there are some throughline stories that are woven from the beginning through the end, in particular that of a cocaine-addicted schoolteacher with a fixation for breaking windows throughout the area, and another regarding an eccentric opera singer who arrives in town and may or may not be an imposter. Interspersed are capsulated tales of gruesome murders, suicides, religious delusions, disease, and mental illness, each narrated by James Marsh.
The film is bolstered by a baroque musical score that helps render the reenactments in a manner that is highly dramatic, unnerving, and gorgeous by turns. While some may find the film as a whole unsatisfying due to its splintered nature, the stories contained in it are very human, and demonstrative of the fact that our idea of the "good old days" is more or less a romanticized fantasy of the past. 9/10.