Photos
Deborah Alexander-Lee
- Doctor
- (as Deborah Alexander)
Maren Grainger-Monsen
- Self
- (as Maren R. Monsen)
Storyline
Featured review
An absolute disgrace to the memories of the people in the film
This is a film made by a doctor and it is about patients near death. It is about sad, beaten down little people who have to make the decisions to stop life support on loved ones. It has moments of terrible sadness, and without the incessant narration of the self-obsessed filmmaker, plays at times like the great Frederick Wiseman's NEAR DEATH. Then, it is ruined.
This film is the worst of its kind. Once Roger Ebert said that BLUE VELVET was despicable because it presents raw emotion, then follows it with wackiness. One is not permitted to take the powerful moments seriously, because the filmmaker keeps expecting the audience to stand back and find the whole thing funny. I disagree with that, but this is the film those words apply to - in a relative sense.
The filmmaker treats us to many shots of herself, and I guess so that we believe the "MD" after her name in the opening titles, we see poorly staged shots of her ordering a team of nurses in a resuscitation in the ER. The she waxes on and on about The Fates of mythology, and we are confronted with three community theater actresses in costume playing with yarns and scissors on a concrete bandstand, in slow motion.
These three show up after each visit the "filmmaker" makes with a hospice worker to terminally ill people. They linger on superimposed billboards, snip clotheslines, and parade around construction sites wearing hard hats. This is absurd and so out of place it has nearly enraged me.
The father who cares for his severely brain damaged little son fights back his emotions in the glare of her camera, but you can tell he has pride in his little boy. His son is small and useless, like a doll, but his father tends to him daily in a ritual of love he can not cut away. It is so beautiful a moment, but only exists long enough to be shattered by the filmmaker's ridiculous "artistic" trope.
How this utter piece of trash ever got on PBS's P.O.V. series is TOTALLY beyond me. I have seen 45% of the films in that series, and this is by far the worst. Without regard, I give this film a 1/10.
If anyone who was associated with this film as a subject or with someone who was a subject of it reads this review, this does not reflect on you or yours. If only a real filmmaker had come knocking asking you to sign a release to be in their film. The greatest sin is that this "filmmaker" is more wrapped up in herself and what she can produce with the help of a bunch of crappy filmmakers than in the stories which are devalued by what surrounds them. A total shame!
This film is the worst of its kind. Once Roger Ebert said that BLUE VELVET was despicable because it presents raw emotion, then follows it with wackiness. One is not permitted to take the powerful moments seriously, because the filmmaker keeps expecting the audience to stand back and find the whole thing funny. I disagree with that, but this is the film those words apply to - in a relative sense.
The filmmaker treats us to many shots of herself, and I guess so that we believe the "MD" after her name in the opening titles, we see poorly staged shots of her ordering a team of nurses in a resuscitation in the ER. The she waxes on and on about The Fates of mythology, and we are confronted with three community theater actresses in costume playing with yarns and scissors on a concrete bandstand, in slow motion.
These three show up after each visit the "filmmaker" makes with a hospice worker to terminally ill people. They linger on superimposed billboards, snip clotheslines, and parade around construction sites wearing hard hats. This is absurd and so out of place it has nearly enraged me.
The father who cares for his severely brain damaged little son fights back his emotions in the glare of her camera, but you can tell he has pride in his little boy. His son is small and useless, like a doll, but his father tends to him daily in a ritual of love he can not cut away. It is so beautiful a moment, but only exists long enough to be shattered by the filmmaker's ridiculous "artistic" trope.
How this utter piece of trash ever got on PBS's P.O.V. series is TOTALLY beyond me. I have seen 45% of the films in that series, and this is by far the worst. Without regard, I give this film a 1/10.
If anyone who was associated with this film as a subject or with someone who was a subject of it reads this review, this does not reflect on you or yours. If only a real filmmaker had come knocking asking you to sign a release to be in their film. The greatest sin is that this "filmmaker" is more wrapped up in herself and what she can produce with the help of a bunch of crappy filmmakers than in the stories which are devalued by what surrounds them. A total shame!
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- Nov 9, 2001
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