Cast (Part Five):
Interviews and archival footage of various individuals:
Archival footage: O. J. Simpson, Johnnie Cochran, Al Cowlings, Christopher Darden, Robert Kardashian, Robert Shapiro, among others.
Interview:
F. Lee Bailey, Danny Bakewell, Carrie Bess, Yolanda Crawford, Marcia Clark, Carl Douglas, Bruce Fromong, Celia Farber, Mike Gilbert, Fred Goldman, Jim Newton, Tom Riccio, Jeffrey Toobin, among others. Directed by Ezra Edelman.
Review:
"What people seem to want to leave off on are, "Oh, here are these images. Here are these images of black people cheering and white people crying and then white people are angry at black people." It’s like, "Okay, but why?" And it’s strange to be put in a position where you feel like you have to create some primer for white people to understand something that is fundamentally not that confusing."
Even if this film did not end up winning an Academy Award for Best Documentary, one would still consider this to be a grand movie in the art of setting a broad canvas that lives up to its title in ways that would make it a film version of a great crime book. It is always reactionary in its tempo and scope that paints an interesting question among the straight path of doom laid out by its timeline: what does one consider a proper balance of justice? It should be noted that one year after the release of the film, Simpson was released on parole after having served nine years of what was a sentence of 33 years for armed robbery (after having been granted parole in a few parameters in 2013), and in 2021 he was granted early release from parole that made him a "free man" (incidentally, you can now see him on Twitter posting about a variety of things, such as double murder trials, for example). Among the various things to say about the epic that is O.J.: Made in America is the very fact that there are no weak parts of the film. It never slogs in its beginning, middle, or end when it comes to the mosaic that Edelman wants to portray. I will say though that my favorite part of this documentary is this fifth part, one that lasts roughly an hour and a half that encompasses the time spent from the verdict of October 3 of 1995 and 2008. It depicts Simpson essentially living a life in exile from the public sphere that he had so desperately craved, with the 1995 verdict essentially being a pyrrhic victory in all senses of the world. It shows a man now approaching his fifties moving away from California to Florida after the civil trial in 1996 (with Fred Goldman getting Daniel Petrocelli to represent the Goldmans, left unmentioned here) before the fateful events of a ill-fated robbery in Las Vegas. This is where the noted names of people from Simpson's past associations in acting or rich associates (such as Peter Hyams or Robert Kardashian) fade away from the background to see others arise from the shadows such as journalist Celia Farber (who profiled Simpson in 1998 that details the strange qualities that come with the nature of who Simpson is in the eyes of who wishes to seek him out) and Tom Riccio (a key player in the foolish robbery).
No matter how one is aware of the OJ murder trial and the verdict, it still doesn't prepare you for how it all went down. As one probably knows, a trial of 253 days with witness testimony from over 156 individuals (notably not Simpson), the deliberation for a verdict took less than four hours. It probably doesn't reflect greatly on Clark that one of the jurors gave a black power raised fist salute right after the verdict was delivered (Lon Cryer, who actually is featured in a different miniseries about jurors in famous trials). One will never know how it feels to be part of a jury until they actually participate in one, which is basically all that matters to say about the perspectives from the jury members presented in the documentary (with memories of exhaustion and probable regret for their ultimate decision). The one thing that I observe most from the trial is just how many people felt the need to write books about it: Both Clark and Darden wrote books about their experiences as the prosecution while Shapiro wrote one that basically tried to pass himself off as not being big on the defense "playing the race card", while Mark Fuhrman also wrote one while trying to go from retired detective to crime writer. The most noted book of the trial may be Jeffrey Toobin's 1996 book The Run of His Life: The People v. O.J. Simpson (you could argue about if his appearance here represents a certain angle of privilege, but that is what I would expect from the most distinct type of person to treat with scrutiny: former lawyers trying to talk about lawyers). At any rate, yes, the verdict was a decision made by human beings that did what they could when faced with doubts that at least reasonable. But really the documentary makes the case before its end that Simpson may not really have ever left the cage that he set himself on when he was in that Ford Bronco all those months ago. In short: there is a clear difference between being a free man and being a free man in the eyes of others around you. In case one forgot how guilty Simpson sounded during the so-called trial of the century, the account of the civil trial (filed in 1996 by the Goldman and Brown family) reminds you pretty quickly. That trial was a non-televised affair with a jury that got to see Simpson in a new form: a charlatan on the witness stand. If there is anything to take about the life of O.J. Simpson beyond what you see in archival footage is that he was a man addicted to fame and adoration. It makes for a great irony when you consider the words of people such as Danny Bakewell and others about the ultimate legacy of Simpson being the distinct difference between his symbol of escape with the verdict and the man as a whole. In other words: Simpson flew to heights thought impossible that remind one of the myth of Icarus and became exposed bare to the world exactly as Icarus did, with the apparent injustice in 1995 being followed by a weirder sense of justice in 2008 (the civil trial was about finding liability).
Oh, right, here we are talking about Simpson. My interest in the documentary now and then comes from what you can gleam from someone that tried to transcend being black by "being O.J." that now finds attention from people that he forgot about. This is made pretty clear by the voice of Mike Gilbert (Simpson's former agent), who I should mention also wrote a book about his experience with Simpson, who not only seems to be a mere symbol for escaping the boot of white authority but also became a symbol for some sort of weird exploitation. Gone are the days of 1st & Ten and The Naked Gun, now here Simpson is talking to people about the good ol' days or trying to make a hustle out of the shell that we know is a pretty crappy person to select people. The charm shown in the earlier parts of a noted name is now one of a man on the hustle, made distinctly clear by footage shown of him from "Juiced", the pay-per-view video released in 2006 that sees him try to play a hand at improv and hidden-camera pranks. It is a gloriously surreal thing to be watching a guy who seemed at ease in TV commercials and occasional films in his "prime" flail hard while approaching his sixties (my favorite part in reading about the video is an article written about the show from a participant, which is amusing and sad in the ways expected from reading something you sure as hell aren't watching). The aspects covering his ill-fated attempt at profiteering with a book detailing "if he did the murders" are what they are for the viewer to think about for themselves, especially with an ever-present Goldman seen throughout (the children of Simpson and the Browns aren't interviewed at any point of this part, so interpret it how you like). The aspects covering the robbery in 2007 are swift and strange in dark humor. Think about it: a famous man of entertainment and alleged murder coming to believe that it was a good idea to scare alleged robbers of his stuff (which is where Fromong comes in) with the dubious help of hired muscle, a guy with a gun, and a strange figure in Riccio (who recorded the robbery and then, go figure, also wrote a book about Simpson). The ensuing trial and judgement leaves a fairly clear perception about the sentence given out, which is, well, yea, it probably was excessive (Carl Douglas contributes my favorite bit about equating it to a "Fifth Quarter").
Ultimately, it is a documentary of epic stature done in exquisite detail by Ezra Edelman. It utilizes seven hours to set an entire range of understanding the importance of the verdict of one of the most famous trials in America beyond the person on trial. The story of Simpson is one wrapped in the fiber of America in the context of race and privilege that might as well be the story of great irony, one where we tell it to our children to educate ourselves on doing better when it comes to possible blind-spots in perception but also on how to treat others regardless of fame. It shows the perspective of how people treat others with regards to skin that shows where we have come since the 20th century and where we still have to go when it comes to race in America. It skillfully tells the story of America within the lens of more than just its namesake when it comes to race and celebrity culture that might as well have its own shelf when it comes to exquisite documentaries that I highly recommend in every sense of the word.
Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.
And so ends a 4,000-word review of a great documentary that I hope matched in some way the scope of the film. Thank you for enjoying another edition of Black History Month presented by Movie Night. I hope you enjoyed the attempt at broadening the scope of black actors or directors that I felt discovered a spotlight. Granted, one can spotlight great black presences all of the year, but it seemed appropriate to make this is a suitable third rendition. March is the time for Women's History Month, as you know. We shall see what is in store for the fourteen features of spotlight time.
No comments:
Post a Comment