Deep Water (2006)

 As I've discussed before, the act of summarizing and reviewing documentaries makes me compare and contrast between them. Louise Osmand and Jerry Rothwell's Deep Water is a riveting experience that, at first, made me think of, yep, The Island President. You see, the ocean is cast as the antagonist yet again, but in this case its not the encroaching dread it becomes to the Maldives. Here, the film focuses on intrepid sailors who rushed out to meet it back in the 60s. The camera films it as a roiling, beautiful, gray-blue-green terror. As the story unfurled, however, I soon realized this was more in tune with The Flat. While less sparse than that documentary, Deep Water deals with similar themes; family members taking secrets to their grave, and how their survivors cope with a tattered view of their history.

The event in question is the Sunday Times Golden Globes Race. During the cold war, the U.K. regained a fascination with sea voyage not seen since Elizabethan days. In 1968, inspired by Francis Chichester's feat of sailing around the world, sailing enthusiasts and newspapers alike decided to promote the next biggest feat; circumlocution without ever stopping on land.

It was a tall order even for the most accomplished of sailors. And Donald Crowhurst, who signed up to take part, was decidedly an amateur. However the cash prize was a strong incentive to a man with a failing business, so he opted to sign up. From the start the media took a great interest in this unknown, dark horse contestant, trying to paint him as a symbol of British fortitude and ingenuity. Things were a bit less rosy in actuality. Crowhurst's yacht was shoddily made and his financier put severe qualifications on his funding; if Crowhurst crashed or gave up early he would have to pay for the cost of the boat. Losing would leave him in even worse financial straits. As someone who had lived in poverty during childhood, he did not want to put his family through that.

 

The filmmakers have a talent for taking archival, cheery footage and teasing out meaningful micro-expressions. Crowhurst looking terrified here, Crowhurst's wife looking concerned there, their children looking oblivious there. They also sketch in the personalities of the other sailors. Bernard Moitessier felt so in tune with the sea, for example, that the film goes a way to showing that he was escaping the constraints of life on land. Robin Knox-Johnston, the ultimate winner, even appears in talking head segments, in order to fill the viewer in on the conditions sailing in the Australia to South America leg of the journey. (Hint: it's not pretty.)

In the late 60s, with the space race going at full tilt, it was easy to feel excited about travel and adventure. However, the ocean is a vast, overwhelming place, and we've explored less than 5% of it. And, as Deep Water constantly asserts, technology was limited. During this seafaring contest, it was easy to go weeks upon weeks without human contact at all. If you bring worries and concerns with you into your sequestered existence, the demanding conditions often amplifies them to the point of it being unbearable.

Therefore, without spoiling too much, I will say that this film is ultimately a dissection of Crowhurst's failure. Deep Water demonstrates how numerous disastrous choices and coincidences lined up to create a near insurmountable situation. Even as many talking heads beat themselves up for their failure to step in, the film gently suggests that Crowhurst was running face first into economic realities, cultural expectations, and his own inner demons. There was very little that any one person could do once the ball began rolling.

That this was supposed to be a reflection on parables- both personal and nationalistic- becomes underlined in the last segment of the film. Crowhurst's son recounts his feelings upon receiving dreadful news, and how, as a child, he thought that "this is the wrong story. This is not what it's supposed to be happening."

At this point I realized that the whole documentary had been about this; people and the stories they tell (or don't tell.) 

It's about people and the stories they choose to believe in, until they can't believe in them anymore. 

The Flat (2011)

 

The Flat was one of those documentaries I stumbled upon via netflix. Its description on that site makes it sounds like a film centered around a mystery. In a way that's exactly what it's about. But if you go in looking for mind-blowing surprises and unsolved crimes, then you might be disappointed. If The Flat focuses on a mystery, then it's a meditation on the contradictions of the human mind, and the complexities of inter-generational relationships. 

The film opens with filmmaker Arnon Goldfinger organizing the titular flat in question.  Turns out it was the home of his recently deceased grandmother. His maternal grandparents were German Jews who moved to Israel in the wake of World War II. They never learned to speak Hebrew, and much of their apartment comes across as tribute to the land of their birth. Case in point; a bookshelf full of literature that's written auf Deutsch. In the middle of emptying out his grandmother's home, Goldfinger uncovers items that complicate his understanding of his grandparents lives in Germany and how they spent their years after the war. 

Filled with questions, Arnon Goldfinger proceeds to tape a number of interviews, and go on several trips to piece together the story of his grandparents. I mentioned in my previous review that modern reviews take on some stock tropes in order to engage viewer interest. The Flat largely eschews some of the traits of trendier films. In fact it's all very bare bones; sedate instrumental music, voiceovers, and extended interviews. Just the (known) facts, ma'am. It can make for a plodding, slow experience, but it fits the nature of the story being told. 

For me, the emotional anchor of The Flat was the relationship between the filmmaker and his mother. If Arnon Goldfinger is full of incredulity and curiosity, his mother is reserved and seemingly pragmatic about her parents' reticence. Goldfinger has an interest into figuring out the psychological truths of his grandparents' lives, while his mother hints at what it must be like to be raised by two refugees from Germany. How she didn't want to kick the proverbial hornets nest by asking questions and causing her parents further pain. In his travels, Arnon Goldfinger runs across many people of his mother's generation who have a shared demeanor. A couple times she looks to the side and says she wishes now that sometimes she had asked more. Together the two journey together and try to cope with their differing relationships to tragedy and veracity.

The Flat, then, is not just a story about how his grandparents coped with the horrific betrayal of their homeland. It's also about how World War II - and the Holocaust in particular - has rippled out and effected each subsequent generation. For Arnon Goldfinger, he seems to have settled on politely but persistently probing at secrets and asking questions designed to make people think. Near the end of the movie he uncovers information that might upset a previous interview subject. He gets on a train and, as his voiceover says, "my dilemma is what to do with what i know."

He ultimately opts to speak to the woman about his discoveries. However, this film demonstrates problems faced by historians or filmmakers of his generation. The movie ends with Goldfinger and his mother fruitlessly searching in Germany for the grave of a relative and the last shot is off the empty flat back in Israel. These are twin images that speak to one of the major themes of this documentary. Namely, the Holocaust didn't just kill millions upon millions of people. It also disrupted some of the usual transmissions of history, and people Goldfinger- descendents of survivors- now have to piece together their relatives lives in bits and pieces. And the answers to certain questions are simply lost forever.