Strong Island

I believe in black lives matter, white privilege, systemic racism, the injustice with which black men are treated...and I still don't like this decent looking, well-intentioned, but overtly manipulative doc.

Unfortunately this was painted to be a compelling story of mis-justice that was then solved or at least contested but it was nothing more than a diary or almost autobiography of someone we'd never heard of. The constant reference to Racism in the families past was almost building up to some sort of mis-justice due to race or color but that didn't seem to be the case. There was parts talking about the struggle of coming to terms with sexuality and growing up which seemed completely irrelevant to the confusing story line that zigzagged at the speed of a snail. Don't get my wrong its a sad story, no one should be murdered and no one should have to deal with a death in family but I just couldn't help but feel this documentary was almost the director/producers way of dealing with it rather than it shedding any light on a given subject. This was almost a professionally shot YouTube video certainly not fit for mainstream Netflix.

The whole point of this documentary is to humanize the victim and show the viewers the human side of this story. It just baffles me how some people here couldn't grasp this simple emotional-based point. We do need more of this kind of documentaries for us to feel each other's pain.

Okay, it would be a stretch to label this as underrated. It was nominated for a best documentary Oscar and received a good deal of acclaim from the critics at least. But on IMDB it's got a surprisingly low user score, as well as not nearly the number of votes it deserves. It's on Netflix and therefore likely buried under so many other true crime documentaries, but it's easily one of the better ones. It's maybe the best film of this sub-genre I've seen since the absolutely heartbreaking 'Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father' from 2008.

The emotional impact of Strong Island is similar to Dear Zachary. Maybe not in exactly the same manner, but it hits hard and seems explicitly designed to provoke strong emotional reactions from its audience. It's an achingly, almost uncomfortably personal story about director Yance Ford recounting the circumstances of his brother's death, way back in the early 1990s, interviewing the people who knew him best as well as effectively interviewing himself in parts. It was a risky move, becoming more than a narrator, though not in the occasionally grating way that Michael Moore or Morgan Spurlock often do in their documentaries. What Ford does here feels more honest, and much braver. Those other two often have an ironic, 'hip' sort of detachment to what they're talking about, but Ford doesn't hold back at all. It's confrontational, even at times to the audience, and maybe that's turned some people off. But I found myself respecting the decision. Ford talks about things in a way that 99.9% of people would be too afraid to, and when the subject matter is as serious as it is here, it's more than understandable.

It's not a fast-paced movie, but I wouldn't call it slow, which is a common and somewhat confusing criticism I've seen on here. The running time felt just about perfect- not too long, but not too brisk, and even if you find yourself restless here and there, it's worth it for the stunning last couple of scenes; particularly the very ending, which left me with a sizeable lump in my throat.

There isn't a whole lot to criticise. I loved how stark the first 20 or so minutes felt with no music of any kind, but eventually a fairly traditional score is utilised, and while the music isn't bad, I really liked the empty, gut-wrenching feeling that the music-free atmosphere conjured up. Maybe some people will call this documentary biased too, but that didn't bother me. It's as much an exploration of grief- and how a tragic event can tear apart a family- as it is a critique and expose of the flaws in the justice system. Even if you're not moved by the story of what happened to Ford's brother, or convinced that his killer wasn't acting in self-defence, the film is potentially even more compelling as a recounting of what happened to the people who knew him after his sudden death. If you're not at least a little saddened by learning of how his parents coped with his passing, or hearing about how close he was to achieving a dream job of his before his sudden death, then I'd be honestly shocked.

Strong Island is a sometimes slowly paced, often very challenging film, that may or may not be too confrontational or 'biased' for some people's tastes, but I thought it was excellently constructed and emotionally powerful. I want to recommend it to as many people as I can, because I think that while it isn't perfect, it says a great deal about so many things, and has a very bold and compelling way of doing so. And as a movie that's now on Netflix, you've really got nothing to lose beyond about 107 minutes, and I can all but guarantee that if you go in with an open mind, you'll find at least something to respect or be moved by within that runtime.

A Oscar nominated documentary from 2017. It entails the trek to Long Island by the Fords, an African American family & how during their stay, the elder son tragically lost his life during a verbal altercation w/a white individual. One night out, the son was driving his vehicle when a tow truck, w/its lights out, collided w/him prompting the owner to offer his body shop's services to make repairs. As weeks drove on & hostilities began to surface, the son made an ill-timed decision to confront the owner of the repair establishment leading to one of the employees to pull out .22 rifle & fire, killing the son instantly. We follow Yance Ford's journey in trying to glean some meaning by her brother's death especially from all accounts he was a thoughtful & respected man even intervening in another occasion apprehending a person who was the perpetrator of a shooting. The subject matter is heart wrenching but ultimately I have to judge the film by its construction & not by its importance which I think is evidenced by the unusual decision to begin a recap of a particular event near the doc's last 15 minutes making the film feel like its spinning its wheels as it were but if one can overlook this lapse in presentation then this potent story is another all too familiar modern discourse of our current racial polemics.