Blood in the Face is
the kind of documentary that I miss quite a bit, and not just because of my
nostalgic affection for the great era of shoulder-mounted 16mm cameras and the
unique movements they produced. It’s also
because they are so much less desperate in terms of both style and agenda. The feeling I get from diverse films of that
period like Martin Bell’s Streetwise
(1985), Jennie Livingston’s Paris is
Burning (1990) and Blood in the Face is
of an unpretentious filmmaker taking a sincerely curious peek into a little
known sub-culture, and remaining quite hesitant to make editorial comments on whatever
he or she finds. In the past 10-15 years,
though, partly due to the remarkable ease of digital shooting and editing
compared to film, the predominant feeling of documentaries is of hip posturing
and relentless haranguing by sarcastic and sneering film school grads. Ironically, Michael Moore deserves a sizable
chunk of the blame for this problem and yet here he is briefly in Blood in the Face as one of the crew’s
interviewers. The film takes a look at
the neo-Nazi movement in Michigan, where a group of passionate, and highly
paranoid, pro-white activists gather for various meetings, socials and
conferences. Rafferty and team are smart
enough to let the subjects speak in a casual manner rather than in a constant state
of wary defensiveness, which allows them just enough footage to hang
themselves. This approach has led to the
curious phenomenon of the film being a favorite of hate groups too since the
filmmakers appear so silent. This is
very different from recent documentaries that wear their anger on their sleeves
and therefore do little more than preach to the choir.
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