The
Work **** / *****
Directed
by: Jairus McLeary and Gethin Aldous.
Once a week, inmates at Folsom
Prison attend group therapy. Most of these men have been in jail for years, and
have years more to go until they get released – and some know they will never
get released at all. The group therapy gives them an opportunity to break down
what went wrong in their lives, and get to something more real and painful
inside them and let it out. Twice a year, the prison opens its door and allows
civilians to attend a four day group therapy session right alongside the
inmates. The Work documents one of these four day sessions – and does so with
surprising restraint. Yes, there is material here that could be fashioned into
some sort of inspirational doc – but director Jairus McLeary (and co-director
Gethin Aldous) don’t do that so much, as simply sit back and observe. In doing
so, you really do get to see how therapy of this sort works – it forces the
audience to sit there in what are sometimes awkward, long silences, or other
routines of this sort of therapy – it doesn’t give you a choice. If that works
well to give you a peak in this 90 minute documentary – imagine if you had to
do this hour after hour, day after day. You kind of don’t have a choice but to
embrace it – the alternative is even worse.
The film follows three of the
civilians inside the prison for this four days of therapy – a middle aged black
man named Charles, whose father was in prison when he was born, and he never
got to meet, Brian, a judgmental hothead, who cannot help but find fault in
everyone he comes in contact with, and Chris, a middle twenties kind of
hipster, who tries to stay detached from the whole process but that can only
last for so long. You can tell early in the movie that all of them have moments
when they question what they signed up for – it doesn’t take long for one of
the inmates – named Kiki – to go through a powerful process that allows him to
open up and feel the grief about his dead sister he has always denied. This
involves awkwardly long eye contact, screaming, and eventually the rest of the
inmates holding him down, as he lets out all of that rage, and gets to
something underneath.
Eventually, though, all three of
them will have breakthroughs of a sort during the process (one of the
unfortunate things about the film, is that Chris waits the longest to have his
breakthrough – and frankly, it pales in comparison to much of the rest of the
movie, even if it comes last). Throughout, the prisoners are thoughtful – open and
honest. They’ve done this work already, and are smart enough to know that it’s
only a beginning, not an end. It’s one thing to open up and left that rage out –
it’s another thing to replace it with something else. Most of them haven’t quite
gotten there yet – and certainly the three civilians aren’t fully there either.
But the process has started – progress has been made.
The Work is a wonderful
documentary because it doesn’t push too hard – it simply sits back and allows
things to play out. The film has no voiceover narration, no music, etc. –
instead it lets things play out however they are going to. I think the film shows
both the positives, and potential negatives (it only works if you want it to –
if you fight it too hard, you’re not getting anyway). The film is a quiet, sly critique
of toxic masculinity and violence, without ever really mentioning either. It doesn’t
need to – we can see it throughout the film, and we watch as men – for some, it’s
too late, for other not – to try and overcome it, so it doesn’t ruin their lives.
It’s a quiet documentary – and all the better for it.
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