Your Guide To Becoming A Docuphile: The Woman Who Wasn't There

Let's be honest. When you get to the core, everyone one of us wants a sense of belonging and purpose. Some people spend their lives trying to hone this purpose, while others will force themselves into a purpose. Tania Head is one of these people, in one of the most bizarre and heinous crimes of human manipulation, chronicled in the great documentary The Woman Who Wasn't There.

Tania, so she claims, was on the upper floor floor of the World Trade Center when the plane hit on 9/11. Holding tight to her arm, which was nearly severed from her body, she escaped down the eighty-some flights of stairs until she collapsed in the arms of a firefighter. Only nineteen people were rescued alive from the floors above where the plane hit. If that wasn't traumatic enough, Dave, her husband of one month, perished in the other tower.

Tania's story was inspiring to other survivors, and her charisma led her to become the head of the WTC Survivors' Network. The only problem, as if you couldn't guess from the title, was that she made it all up. She was never at the WTC. She didn't work at Merrill Lynch as she claimed. Dave was a real victim, but they never knew each other.

The film uses earlier footage of Tania talking about her survival story, footage and interviews from her former friends and fellow survivors, and clever use of illustrations to visualize Tania's story. What causes someone to do this? Was she so starved for attention that this was the only way she could get it? Was she just a manipulative sociopath? How did no one question her on her story? My guess is that in their immediate grief, none of the survivors were in a place to question another survivor, and Tania was able to hold up her rouse for quite a while.

The Woman Who Wasn't There provides all the background and exposition, but will leave you with the question of why someone would do this, and this wondering is part of the appeal of the film. I discussed this film with four of my friends who saw it, and we all had different, but equally plausible explanations of her motives. Playing on Netflix Instant, it's a great watch and a great conversation starter.

Your Guide To Becoming A Docuphile: It's Not Easy Being A Teen

This week's documentary recommendations include some lesser-known finds that highlight youth angst.

Dirty Girls

This seventeen-minute documentary has had an interesting shelf life: filmed by high school senior Michael Lucid in 1996 about some of his classmates. It's an instant retro-gasm for those of us that were teens in the nineties, and focuses on two sisters, Amber and Harper, dubbed the "dirty girls" by their classmates for "not washing their hair" and making riot girl zines. (Are you kidding? How can I be friends with these girls?) The film contains interviews with other classmates who detest and put down these girls, showing us that although the cliques have changed, high school will always be high school. Lucid does a fantastic job of capturing youth angst and the feel of being "different." The sisters are doing just fine and are still as awesome, as expected. The full film can be seen below.

Billy The Kid

Billy The Kid is a simple, subtle portrait of Billy, a fourteen-year-old rural kid with the mind of a thirty-five-year old. He has really great insights into life despite his short time in it so far. As you can imagine, having older, wiser thoughts doesn't exactly make you the most popular kid in school. Billy struggles to find his identity, maintain relationships with his single mother, dealing with a new found crush working at the family restaurant, and feeling alienated at school. Despite Billy's coming-of-age struggling, it's comforting to know that someday Billy will come into his own and be the next great author/artist/whatever he wants to be. But for now, you can't help rooting for the awkward kid who loves the band Kiss. The entire documentary is below.

Sexy Baby

Sexy Baby is a film about three women: a retired adult film star, a woman who is considering surgery to reduce the size of her labia, and a thirteen-year-old girl trying to grow up in an age where everything is sexualized. Winnifred, the thirteen-year old, is really the most fascinating element of the story. For a thirteen-year old, she's already got a great life: she lives in an artist's loft in New York City, she writes and performs her own one-act plays, and she's quite smart. However, the forces of social media still tend to make her feel like she is only as good as her sexual appeal. As her parents try to instill self-esteem in her and set her in the right mindset, they are still no match for her peers who are obsessed with what identity they are projecting to the outside world. It's bleak and disheartening, and the film heavily asserts that the impact of women's sexuality is demoralizing women everywhere. I can't say I fully agree and the film does leave out the notion that sexuality can also empower women, but young girls have a hard time ahead of them... but what era has that ever not been the case?

This documentary airs regularly on Showtime, but can also be seen on DVD.

First Look: Salinger

Check out the trailer for this documentary!

Your Guide to Becoming a Docuphile: Paradise Lost

As with any art form, there are classics of the form that every student of the subject should know. It doesn't necessarily need to be a favorite, but it should be known as a benchmark to which compare all other art forms. For documentaries, there are such films that define documentary filmmaking. The Paradise Lost trilogy are such films.

True Crime is almost always a fascinating subject to document. There's the mindsets of the perpetrators, the lives of the victim, the chronicle of the trial, and the media reactions to include, which all contain their drama. Fictional Crime shows continually dominate the TV ratings. For the first film in the series, Paradise Lost, The Child Murders in the Robin Hood Hills (1996), filmmakers Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky couldn't have asked for a more compelling story; it was serendipitous to the filmmakers for finding such a story arc. They went in to film a trial of an already interesting case, and what they ended up with was better than any Emmy-winning show.

But first, some background. The town of West Memphis, Arkansas, is, unfortunately as you would imagine, not very progressive or cosmopolitan. Religion pervades the small town, any thought or form of expression that is different is not accepted, and much of the town is encased in poverty that seems to be the ultimate fate for many of the residents. One afternoon, the mutilated and abused bodies of three seven-year-old boys were found in the woods by a creek. This would be a huge undertaking for any police investigation in any town, but the understaffed, inexperienced police of this small town were in over their heads. The collection of evidence was rife with errors and carelessness; the investigation was spotty at best.

Your Guide To Becoming A Docuphile: Room 237 Is A Must-See

Each week, I'll cover the documentaries that are worth a view. Consider it a primer to be becoming a docuphile. I encourage you to leave your favorite documentaries in the comments or tweet at me at @robinhardwick. This week, films about films.

Room 237 (2012)

Room 237 is unlike any other film, much less documentary, I've seen. I can already tell you it will be on my top films of the year, if not of all time. Yes, I am willing to make that statement. Why am I so obsessed with this film? Because it validates my obsession with movies. Room 237 looks at one particular movie in the ways that I obsess over films. I'm not crazy after all!

Room 237 highlights five different theories about the film The Shining, ranging from its symbolism and cinematography (basic Film Theory 101) to "okay, I guess I can see that" theories about holocaust allegories, to batshit-crazy theories like Stanley Kubrick was using this film to tell the world that he had helped fake the Apollo moon landing footage. And honestly, by the end of the film, I was not sure I could totally refute that. The five "panelists" of the film do not appear on screen, but their theories are carefully illustrated with clips, diagrams, and scenes from other Kubrick films to further illustrate the panelists' thoughts. Even the simplest, most innocuous moments are scrutinized, from the workers in a background carrying chairs, to how the opening credits are placed, to the way that someone shakes someone else's hand.

Many of you already realized that Stanley Kubrick was a genius, so I apologize for not fully realizing this until I saw Room 237. In further reveal, I didn't totally love The Shining when I saw it the first time, which was actually only about a year ago (I know, I know! How can I call myself a cinephile?) but watching this made me appreciate the level of meticulous detail that goes into Kubrick's film making. (It's no wonder there are rumors that he was a nightmare to work with.)

If I could wish anything (aside from wishing for more wishes), I would wish that more films would get the Room 237 treatment. Film geeks love nothing more than obsessing over every detail of their favorite films, and it's nice when there are films produced that do that for us.

Not to mention that the film also has an amazing trailer that is an homage to one of the most memorable scenes of The Shining. The film will open in select cities starting this week, and I am confident it will be one of your best movie-going experiences of the year.

Your Guide To Becoming A Docuphile: There She Is

Each week, I'll cover the documentaries that are worth a view. Consider it a primer to be becoming a docuphile. I encourage you to leave your favorite documentaries in the comments or tweet at me at @robinhardwick. This week, I was lucky enough to have a chat with a real-life documentary filmmaker.

As I've begun my concerted effort to watch more documentaries, I've become more interested in the production and "behind the scenes" side. As an avid film fan for years, I've seen and read a lot about the production of mainstream films and of course, many of those rules are out the window when it comes to documentaries. Fewer full-length documentaries are produced than feature films, and the public demand for them is less (hopefully not for long).

Documentary shorts are even less acknowledged by the typical theater-going public, but are just as, if not more, compelling. I had the privilege of viewing the film There She Is, which profiles Allison and Jenny, two best friends competing in the 2011 American Beauties Plus Pageant. The film is about the women as they compete in the pageant as both a statement and a celebration of their body acceptance. Both yearn for full acceptance of women of all sizes and have full confidence in themselves.

However, the unfortunate reality is that they do live in a world where women's body sizes are so obsessed over and judged, they can't help but escape the constant reminders in their world about how they are viewed. These women are open in their insecurities, which include scared to be out of the house in full makeup and never finding acceptance from a potential romantic partner. Although the film is only 18 minutes, the viewer easily relates to and makes the connection with the women. A good documentary should transport you into the subject's full world, and to do that so quickly is a tribute to the talent of the filmmakers.



At first, I was surprised that Allison and Jenny would willingly participate in something like a "pageant" that mimics the demeaning "beauty contest" that pageants do represent, but for them, it's a way to reclaim what beauty is. They also enjoy makeup and dressing up, which at times is seen as a conflict with "empowered women," but why can't a woman be empowered and enjoy such things?

Co-director Emily Sheskin was also gracious enough to answer my questions about the process of producing documentaries:

Your Guide to Becoming a Docuphile: Paul Williams: Still Alive

Each week, I'll cover the documentaries that are worth a view. Consider it a primer to be becoming a docuphile. I encourage you to leave your favorite documentaries in the comments or tweet at me at @robinhardwick. This week, a filmmaker sets out to find his former childhood idol.

What: Paul Williams: Still Alive (2012)

Who: Paul Williams, superstar of the seventies, writer of iconic songs ("The Rainbow Connection," "The Way We Were") and filmmaker Stephen Kessler who idolized him as a child

What: Filmmaker Kessler wonders what became of his idol since he hadn't heard anything from him in over two decades

Why It's Intriguing: This isn't just a documentary about Paul Williams's career, it's the story of the filmmaker's quest to make the documentary, and the relationship he forges with Paul Williams in order to make the documentary.

This also answers the question: what happens to the famous after they are famous? Unfortunately (or fortunately?), there's a whole genre of reality television specifically for these has-beens. But some are happy in their retirement, lucky enough to get by on royalties, and are fine just living their lives.

Spoiler alert: this has a happy ending. Paul Williams is just fine. He's happily living in a nice house in Florida, enjoys a good Hawaiian shirt and relaxed-fit jeans. He can walk around every day without being recognized. However, there are some places (Winnipeg and the Phillipines, for instance) where he is a superstar, and a couple times a year he plays shows where fans will come from all over the world to meet him.

At first, he's reluctant to be on film or talk about his past. As the film moves on, it's because he's embarrassed for some of his behavior. At the height of his fame, he was seduced by drugs, and caused pain to his then-wife and children. Fortunately, he's now sixteen years sober, and dedicated most of his life as a drug and alcohol rehabilitation counselor.

Williams has made amends with his past, but he battles against talking about it. This doesn't make him cold; this makes him incredibly human. He's got his quirks; is that surprising for a man in his late sixties? One could say that Kessler is a narcissistic documentarian, making the film a lot about himself coming to terms with meeting his idol, and trying to have a breakthrough with Paul to get him to talk about his past. He even goes as far enough to try to convince him not to take a gig in the Phillipines because he is afraid of terrorism.

Paul Williams: Still Alive is not sensational, it's not an expose, it's a fairly even-keeled look at a very talented man whose work touched a lot of people, and for all it's worth, it's just nice to see a happy ending to fame.

First Look: The Blueblack Hussar

Here's the trailer for The Blueblack Hussar, the upcoming documentary that chronicles Adam Ant's nervous breakdown and his return to music.

Your Guide To Becoming A Docuphile: Early Nineties Music

Each week, I'll cover the documentaries that are worth a view. Consider it a primer to be becoming a docuphile. I encourage you to leave your favorite documentaries in the comments or tweet at me at @robinhardwick. This week, three documentaries that cover my favorite era of music: the nineties.

What: Dig! (2004)

Who: Anton Newcombe, eccentric lead singer of the indie rock band Brian Jonestown Massacre, and his ultimate frenemy, with Courtney Taylor-Taylor, singer of the '90s indie rock band The Dandy Warhols. Dig! is equal parts character study, chronicle of the music industry in the 90s, and a story about friendship, and a story about self-destruction. Plus, really rockin' performance footage.

Why It's Intriguing: You don't need to know anything about either bands, about the music industry, or even about music to appreciate what filmmaker Ondi Timoner has created. Anton Newcombe is as equally frustrating as he is interesting. He's a raging egomaniac, a substance abuser, and he wears his pain right out there. Courtney Taylor-Taylor, who provides some narration, is definitely the more level-headed, rational one. Both bands were slated to become the next big alternative rock band of the '90s. The Dandy Warhols ultimately obtain the success, and it's easy to see why: their songs are radio-friendly, the members have a better understanding of how to act appropriately around record executives, and they are, ahem, "prettier," at least in the eyes of the public.

Anton Newcombe cares a lot about gaining success, but spends an exorbitant amount of energy giving the appearance that he doesn't care. His frustration and envy is clear, but as a troubled person can best handle it. It's actually a wonder his bandmates put up with him (although he has been kicked out of the band several times). Substance abuse is a large part of his behavior, which is only touched upon lightly.

The footage used for the documentary varies which keeps it compelling. Interview footage, home videos, industry interviews, and live performances are all equally exciting and is guaranteed to make one miss the alternative scene of the nineties. Surprisingly, both The Dandy Warhols and The Brian Jonestown Massacre are still releasing albums today, but I believe their music peaked in the nineties, and we're lucky to have Dig! to capture that.

Side note: if you haven't listened to the 1997 album ...The Dandy Warhols Come Down, drop everything and do it now.

Your Guide To Becoming a Docuphile: Grizzly Man

Each week, I'll cover the documentaries that had a significant impact on me. Consider it a primer to be becoming a docuphile. I encourage you to leave your favorite documentaries in the comments or tweet at me at @robinhardwick. This week, a man who loved the bears of Alaska so much he gave his life for it.

What: Grizzly Man (2005)

Who:: Tim Treadwell, a charismatic guy who dedicated every summer for thirteen years to living among the Grizzlies of Alaska. In the ultimate ironic ending, he was mauled and killed by one of the very bears he cared so much about.

What Makes It A Compelling Story: Treadwell taped 100+ plus of footage of the bears, getting better footage than any nature photographer would. Treadwell had an undeniable love for the bears, naming them and talking to them as if he was their keeper. At first, it seems somewhat childish, but his earnest charm wins you over. Treadwell, a failed actor, thought he would bring the love of the Grizzlies to a nature show. The documentary, narrated by the notorious over-analyzer Werner Herzog, paints a picture of a tortured man, and also interviews his friends and loved ones. If a story about a passionate artists doesn't get to you, there is gorgeous shots of the bears in their habitat and several shots of adorable fox pups to keep anyone invested.

Grizzly Man is currently available to stream on Netflix.