O.J.: Made in America.

Review #1980.3: O.J.: Made in America.

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.

O.J.: Made in America.

Review #1980.2: O.J.: Made in America.

Cast (Parts Three and Four): 

Interviews and archival footage of various individuals:

Archival footage: O. J. Simpson, Johnnie Cochran, Al Cowlings, Christopher Darden, Ron Goldman, Judge Lance Ito, Robert Kardashian, Nicole Brown Simpson, Robert Shapiro, among others.

Interview: Mike Albanese, F. Lee Bailey, Danny Bakewell, Carrie Bess, Yolanda Crawford, Marcia Clark, Carl Douglas, Mark Fuhrman, Gil Garcetti, Mike Gilbert, Fred Goldman, Tom Lange, Jim Newton, Barry Scheck, Ron Shipp, Zoey Tur, among others. Directed by Ezra Edelman.

Review: 

Part Three of O.J.: Made in America starts exactly where one knows it will go: midnight on June 13, 1994, where two bodies are discovered at 875 South Bundy Drive in the Brentwood neighborhood of Los Angeles. No matter the knowledge one has of the murder case of that day, it does not make the presentation of finding the bodies of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman (as photographed on discovery) any less shocking. The days that followed the murders on June 12 are the heart of the entire documentary in showing just what the Simpson case meant to the public eye in terms of seeing an epic fall happen on television to millions of viewers. Part Three isn't just an expression of showing the famous white Ford Bronco chase as the key step in forming reality television, of course, because one cannot have a chase without detailing the investigation that formed between all of that. You hear both the procession of information from detectives such as Tom Lange to the procession of shock and grief from Ron Goldman.

The June 17 chase shows the voices of the time and now in a mesh that manages to be distinct from the aforementioned previous ESPN documentary on the day that makes it keenly aware of how impactful the moment was in the eyes of those who saw it (which sees 1994 footage and current-day footage of Dave Gascon). This involves people such as Zoey Tur (who covered the chase by helicopter) that notes the carnival-like atmosphere that arose from the viewing of Cowlings and Simpson driving the Bronco across the city. The chase is the chase, a baffling display of just how absorbed people really can become in something. I think these two parts of the film spur the most discussion when it comes to the art of "talking to the screen as if you were there with the talking head". In other words, it is a very reactive center to the whole experience, one that arouses your senses to look back on the events of the past with useful context that makes what might seem routine when it comes to archival footage into the most captivating in interest. It runs the gamut of generating emotions from its viewer in the montage of voices old and new to the growing circus that was 1994. There will likely never be a chase on the scale left by the Simpson chase and there may never be a trial that consumed the American consciousness as the Simpson trial did in part because of how it stoked insatiable desire (others might say insatiable insanity) for the 24-hour news cycle. Hell, one probably already had it in mind when they saw how much people wanted to watch shows that featured real-life law enforcement with Cops, but the coverage of OJ and the trial took everything to a new level that still seems so freshly ingrained in our culture. It is as if the barriers of shame were suddenly ripped away and replaced with two paper-thin ones that both said "famous" on them. Anyone can be famous, but those definitions can only mean so much when people like Judge Lance Ito can be turned into a comedy bit for late-night television (with high-powered prosecutors and defense lawyers, he certainly comes off in the archival footage as seemingly overwhelmed but given that he allowed cameras for cases involving Charles Keating, it is not surprising). You could probably count on multiple hands just how many people involved in the case that ended up writing a book about the trial in some sort of form.

It should be noted that Christopher Darden did not wish to participate in this documentary. Nothing is really lost there, unless having another perspective of a prosecutor besides the lead in Marcia Clark (left unmentioned in the documentary is that Darden was brought in to replace William Hodgman as co-prosecutor because Hodgman had collapsed with chest pains after opening statements. Hodgman survived and is interviewed for this film). So, yes, one is fascinated in hearing the statements from people like Clark or Gil Garcetti (District Attorney of Los Angeles County) when it comes to the perspective of people who saw the case as they felt it was. This of course was the belief that the facts would result in one certain verdict and the resulting nightmare that came with the media circus that was the trial (which saw Darden make likely the most foolish decision in the history of televised cases with the trying of the glove, which no one, probably not even Darden, could defend). Clark may reflect well in terms of seeing like the kind of sharp tack in insight while relating the hell that was when it comes to trial that makes her perspective more than just being the perspective of the failed prosecutor. Moments are also spent with two jurors from the trial (Carrie Bess and Yolanda Crawford), which went through a long process of selection to try and select the ideal people that would have to be in a courtroom for months in downtown Los Angeles (keep in mind, the trial promising to go on for months resulted in a certain type of jury pool, which ended up seeing a jury sequestered for 265 days). Various people who testified in the trial are interviewed as well, namely with Mark Fuhrman, who casts a long shadow over the proceedings in the most evident of ways, one that certainly lends himself as an living example of the old saying "actions speak louder than words" (as much as one would say of the sacrificial lamb of the defense that got accused on perjury). This probably works as well to describe Barry Schenk, a co-founder of the Innocence Project (committed to exonerating people falsely convicted by using DNA testing) who went on to put the biggest display of speculation of flawed DNA testing in one case. 

And then of course there is the interviewing of certain surviving members of the defense, dubbed the "Dream Team" and headlined by in Carl Douglas, Barry Schenk, and F. Lee Bailey, for which one will see clips of Johnnie Cochran (who died in 2005) and still-living Robert Shapiro and Alan Dershowitz (although it is apparent even more so in 2023 that no one really wants to hear about or talk from Alan Dershowitz, which is saying something when hearing from once famous-turned-disbarred lawyer Bailey). You hear about their tactics to turn the case into an indictment of the whole Los Angeles Police Department with regards to treating evidence and so on. To relate this back to film for a moment, film director Milos Forman likely summed it up best when he once described O.J.'s defense as "Because you are not perfect, O.J. is innocent." Hearing about the exploits of Cochran as a civil rights defender prior to the case results in quite the interesting effect when snippets of his closing argument (which had moments such as equating Fuhrmann to Hitler) are shown to us. Douglas reflects well among most, if not all of the interviewees in terms of insight. Edelman lets the words of the speakers (1994 or 2016) speak for themselves when it comes to the power of high-priced (and clever) lawyers. Now more than ever, Americans consume entertainment on a wide scale, and it seems that we are consumed with following tragedy wherever it may lead. For people involved in tragedy, it is just their lives, but for others, it is, well, the new focal point of one's time. We do not lose sight of the people that were viciously murdered on that day in June 1994 or the people who found themselves at the face of the cameras (such as Ron Shipp, another surficial lamb to the defense). The trial may have muddled the victims into the background for spectacle, but that doesn't mean we forget. One might think that I am not talking much about Simpson with regards to this review, but it only goes to show the perspective that arises from that fact that the documentary is really not so much about him as it is about us, even as we see more examples of the facades that he put in front of the camera as opposed to when he is not on camera, as if he is wondering whether the metaphorical Faustian bargain is about to strike back in his face. Simpson has had a camera on him for decades, and the attention is more apparent from the eyes of the world, but at what cost now? (especially considering that he went so far as to sign parts of a jersey when in jail, which made for a strange booming market)

In the end, the third and fourth part of O.J.: Made in America is the heart of the movie when it comes to showing the America we live in now, since it essentially was the precursor for what we call reality television. It is the insanity of ourselves that is really put into display here more so than the actual case, but it is the most important thing to consider when dealing with a documentary that demonstrates the very nature of just how far one can go down the rabbit hole in connections by how intricate it weaves the events of 1994 and 1995. Sure, you can search contemporary articles of the time just to see the perspective of people becoming "junkies" for the trial, or you can see it for yourself with these two parts of the documentary.

Tomorrow: Part Five.

O.J.: Made in America.

Review #1980.1: O.J.: Made in America.

Cast (Parts One and Two): 

Interviews and archival footage of various individuals:

Archival footage: O. J. Simpson, Marcus Allen, Muhammad Ali, Howard Cosell, Al Cowlings, Roy Firestone, Robert Kardashian, Daryl Gates, Nicole Brown Simpson, among others

Interview: Mike Albanese, Danny Bakewell, Joe Bell, Tanya Brown, Booker Edgerson, Harry Edwards, Peter Hyams, Walter Mosley, among others. Directed by Ezra Edelman.

Review: 

“I could use that canvas to tell a deeper story about race in America, about the city of Los Angeles, the relationship between the black community and the police, and who O.J. was and his rise to celebrity. That’s the story I wanted to tell.”

I knew the film was going to be one for the ages when I heard of it being shown on television in 2016. O.J.: Made in America was produced and directed by Ezra Edelman for ESPN Films as part of their 30 for 30 series (started in 2009 as a series of documentary films that highlighted interesting moments and people in sports history). That series had done a documentary featuring footage of O.J. Simpson in 2010 with Brett Morgen that was called June 17, 1994, which chronicled the events of that day that happened to involve numerous sports events alongside the police chase of the famed football star that was comprised solely of footage of the time. However, there was still ideas to do a longer venture about Simpson, with Edelman being first asked about possibly being interested (which was pitched initially as a five-hour project). Edelman was born in Boston, Massachusetts to civil rights activist Marian Wright Edelman and Georgetown professor Peter Edelman. After graduation from Yale University, he started work as a director and producer for sports documentaries with HBO Sports, debuting in the former category with Magic & Bird: A Courtship of Rivals (2010). He first rejected the idea because he thought there was nothing new to say about Simpson, but he later came around to the idea of doing the venture for something that could encompass more than just Simpson. The resulting film was done over the course of eighteen months with 72 interviews that was shown in two forms: theatrically on the festival circuit with intermissions (one or two depending on the festival) to account for a runtime of 467 minutes (almost eight hours) starting in early 2016 and on television in the summer of 2016 as a five-part miniseries; the DVD release that I have of the film includes the "Intermission" subtitle after the end of Part Two and Part Four, respectively (in essence, Part One and Two combined make a runtime of three hours, which is the same as the combined time of Parts Three and Four). I saw the film on its original television broadcast, but I wanted to wait until it felt right to give the film (the winner of the Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature in 2017) the proper review I felt it deserved. Seven years seems appropriate to return to this documentary and express my thoughts. Part One of O.J.: Made in America deals with the life of O.J. Simpson in his years as a football star (1965-1979) and the television presence that came with it that runs in parallel to the narrative of the city of Los Angeles within growing racial tension. Part Two covers the dissolution of his first marriage from Marguerite L. Whitley and his eventual marriage to Nicole Brown (who he had dated prior to his divorce) that saw children alongside Simpson pleading no contest to spousal abuse in 1989 and divorce in 1992. Basically, the football of Simpson takes the stage for the first part and his personal life takes the second part, with context running behind in tandem with each.

There have been numerous ways to tell the story of O.J. Simpson and the famous murder trial, obviously. The People v. O. J. Simpson: American Crime Story, a true crime anthology series based on a book by Jeffrey Toobin (interviewed later in this film, incidentally), premiered the very year of O.J.: Made in America came out. But this is a film that knows exactly how to pace oneself in the story of Simpson that has the benefit of archival footage of the man as people used to know him (a query letter written by Edelman to Simpson, by then incarcerated and approaching the age of 70, was left unanswered). Naturally, there is footage of others that knew Simpson in contemporary times or in the present-day here to go along with, one that shows Simpson and his triumphs (most notably the University of Southern California and the Buffalo Bills) that run in tandem with his reaction to the growing movement of the strong-principled black revolutionary athlete. Robert Lipsyte aptly describes O.J. in the film as essentially "the counterrevolutionary athlete white America is looking for." If one really thinks about it, the story of Simpson could also remind one of the Faustian bargain, since it seems that more than anything, he wanted fame (as quoted in one interview, he wanted people to say "hey, there goes OJ") and in return he traded his very soul. In essence, the first two parts remind the viewer of who Simpson was in the time before 1994 in all of its aspects: on and off of the camera; it also shares time on the city of Los Angeles before 1994 when it comes to the Watts riots of 1965 and the 1992 riots in the city that each sprung from tension of the city between black residents and the city's police department; one sees this from the reaction from the community to the release of the Rodney King beating tape and the murder of Latasha Harlins (the trial of the officers for excessive force on King resulting in a nonguilty verdict and a city-wide riot hours later). Regardless of how familiar one is of Simpson, Edelman presents a worthwhile canvas because it truly is necessary to know how the story of Simpson intertwines beyond the expectations one would expect. You see the many aspects of personality in Simpson from his ambition to his jealousy, one that might as well have had the talent to become a great actor with how he juggles the facade of having an actual conscience. Instead, the great television star fell at the risk of being a has-been with diminishing attention all because of himself, which certainly is ironic considering his desire of being not black but being O.J.

There are many fascinating voices to hear from when talking about Simpson or the city of Los Angeles, since he spent years living in the city in the neighborhood of Brentwood. You hear the voices of authority figures such as Mike Albanese, detailing the mood in some part of officers in the city within the riots that contrast with city residents such as novelist Walter Mosley or civil rights activists in Danny Bakewell. You hear from associates of Simpson such as childhood friend Joe Bell, who sets the stage of how Simpson grew to be the person that became Simpson in the housing projects of the Potrero Hill neighborhood in San Francisco in a family upbringing with an absent gay father, or with people that knew him during his marriage to Brown such as her sister Tanya that reveals the nature of Simpson beyond the public persona (which involved rage and jealousy, before and after the divorce); the use of footage with Brown shows her in the light that matters most: not simply listed as the wife of O.J. Simpson but a person with their own dreams and their own struggles that come out from the footage and diaries shown to us; the way we see domestic violence now as opposed to decades prior is made striking when it comes to the 1989 coverage of Simpson, made particularly clear with the interview of him with Roy Firestone. You see the differing perspectives of Simpson in regard to him as an athlete (such as from teammate Booker Edgerson) versus being an example of the socially aware black athlete (as noted by sociologist Harry Edwards and the aforementioned Lipsyte). You see the perspective of Simpson in his ascension to advertising pitchman and actor from people such as director Peter Hyams (who directed Simpson in Capricorn One in 1978) or Hertz Corporation chairman Frank Olson (whose company associated with Simpson for nearly two decades, even with the 1989 charges) when it comes to where Simpson's power worked when it came to being malleable for a consumer audience.

To list everyone would be to miss the point: you understand who O.J. Simpson was beyond the words that could always be used to describe him before 1994 and you understand the very nature of how that comes in parallel with Los Angeles of that time, where the burning of building in Los Angeles runs in parallel to the diminishing elements of Simpson's soul. One knows where the story will close itself by its opening shot with the Lovelock Correctional Center in the present day, but that doesn't mean the opening of the canvas of O.J. and others is diminished in fascinating quality.

The rating for this review will be displayed when the review is fully completed on February 28. Tomorrow is Parts Three and Four of O.J.: Made in America before the review is final, which will essentially make this the longest review in Movie Night history.