Into the Abyss

In Conroe, Texas, 2001, Michael Perry and Jason Burkett broke into the home of an acquaintance, Jason Stotler, in the hopes of stealing a new car. When their plan began to unravel, Perry shot and killed Stotler's mother. After dumping the body, they then killed Stotler and another friend in order to regain access to the house inside of a gated community they had been locked out of. Shortly thereafter, the duo was arrested after a haphazard shootout and brought to justice. Perry was sentenced to death, Burkett to life in prison. With Perry's execution right around the corner, filmmaker Werner Herzog journeyed to the maximum security prison in Huntsville, Texas in order to interview the culprits, get the details of the case, and have a look at the concept of the death penalty.

Perhaps the preeminent voice in documentary filmmaking, Herzog has spent the majority of his illustrious career crafting his approach and that shines through once again here. What I love about Herzog's documentaries is that there's never any question as to how he feels about his subject matter and yet you never feel as if he's forcing it down his throat. At the outset of Into the Abyss he states (off-camera) that he is against the death penalty and at times you can tell that his film is sliding toward his side of the argument. A very compelling portion of the film involves Herzog's discussions with a man who spent his entire career strapping the condemned to a gurney until a series of events led him to jump to the other side of the argument. Still, however, Herzog allows the audience to judge for themselves, choosing to let the camera roll while laying out the facts. My impression is that Herzog would like to start a dialogue concerning the matter rather than shame proponents of the death penalty into submission.

At the same time, Into the Abyss pulls no punches in its portrayal of both Perry and Burkett. While both profess their innocence, Herzog quietly points out the holes in their respective stories and makes it clear that there is virtually no evidence to support their claims. These two were morons with a history of bad and violent behavior who finally escalated their actions. Perhaps their greatest mistake was being so stupid as to believe they could get away with their crimes when clearly neither one of them had the mental capacity to outsmart a brain damaged dog, let alone a team of police detectives. The film uses splices of the videos investigators shot at the crime scene and accentuates the footage with interviews with the detective in charge of the case and the family members of the victims. It is a dark light that is shed on Perry and Burkett and Herzog makes no attempt to turn them into the martyrs they would have you believe they are.

The only real issue I had with Into the Abyss is that it simultaneously tries to cover too much ground and doesn't reach quite far enough. Herzog takes the time to highlight a fairly extensive interview with Burkett's father, himself in prison, in an effort to illuminate Burkett's difficult childhood but then doesn't do anything with this information. It seems as if the film goes halfway toward building a bit of sympathy for at least Burkett, if not Perry, and then abandons the idea. There are also a handful of interviews that don't seem to serve much of a purpose. At the same time, because of the nature of how Herzog shot the film, his "turn on the cameras and see what happens" style, there are times when Into the Abyss seems a bit purposeless. There's no great statement made and again, while I appreciate that he didn't take to the heavy-handed preaching tactic used too often in these documentaries, this leaves the film devoid of a lasting impression. It's a good film and one that is certainly worth watching if for no other reason than the conversation it could lead to but it lacks the punch that I would have expected it to display.

Please see my reviews at thesoapboxoffice.com

The art of making a real documentary has become lost in recent years with filmmakers consistently using stylistic editing and asking questions only to prove the point there trying to make. One thing that struck me with "Into The Abyss" by Werner Herzog was how brilliantly he stayed on task of what he was trying to say. He clearly states once that he does not believe in the death penalty.

The thing that impressed me the most was how he was never on screen and only asked honest and pertinent questions to all his interviewees without leading them to the answers he wanted. He probed but always let the person say exactly what they wanted to say. He never tries to excuse or romanticize the crime led the one person he interviewed to death row but is firm in his belief that capital punishment is just as much a sin as the crimes perpetrated by the death row inmates

As I understand it, The United States is one of the last few developed countries that still imposes the death penalty and Texas has the highest rate of death row inmates and the lowest rate of appeals for death row inmates in the nation. While pondering that question you have to ask yourself, "why is that?" is crime being any more deterred by this, I would say no since they still have the highest rate of death row inmates even to this day.

The commentary by the different people that Herzog talks too is extraordinary. The two that I found to be the best were the father Jason Burkett who is also in prison and the man who was once captain of the guard where Perry was to be executed. This mans conclusion on why the death penalty should not be used is perhaps the best and most profound.

Herzog poses no enlightening statement at the end and even provides no commentary minus the questions he asks the people he interviews and this is perhaps the best way he could have approached this subject. He let's the viewer determine for themselves what they want to take away from the evidence he provides.

This is a hard film to review but is a film that should be seen, and the two questions stuck with me even after the film was over, Who has the right to take another life? and, Is there a point where the taking of a life is not a sin?

You know and value Herzog because he's one of few these days who can offer a glimpse of cosmologic infrastructure. The wheels and chains that move the world beneath the stories we make up to describe it. What he does, is that he frames chaotic nature where it has a story to tell - say a man living with bears, or an island about to explode - builds this as opera while maintaining the illusion of spontaneous life, blurring document with fiction, then uses this to bring to the surface an image that explains the madness of those stories. A boat being tugged over a hill, as pure as this.

The story here is about death-row inmates awaiting execution in a Texas penitentiary, structured so that we absorn not just the heinous, meaningless crime but the broader world that leads up to it, allows it to happen, is dependent on and reflects it. Broken homes, unemployment, casual street violence, Herzog provides enough background detail to ground this in a larger systemic failure: so-called civilized society as only a facade of chaotic nature left to seed.

As with Caves the previous year, the film is talky, dependent on people being able to conjure an experience we only have a handful of images for; the crime scene, dried blood still spattered on the walls, the quietly ominous-looking execution chamber, the prison cemetery lined with crosses of the executed.

And this is the whole point. Here is a story of immense, sobering power, interviewing a man who will be dead by Monday, but of course Herzog cannot film the moment, much to the chagrin of many. He has to tell a story around it.

No, the point is that we only have words, memories, stories to say. Many of these are recounted in the film. The execution itself is pieced together from objects and testimonies, very much like we would process a memory. But these stories are still powerful enough to decide life and death. Two were convicted for the crime, and going beyond who pulled the trigger, since both planned for it, only one was sentenced to die.

This is what is so sobering to me; one man just had a better story to tell the court, more touching drama to explain his being, and we get to note this in the film for a clear effect, he's just more agreeable to listen to, appears more responsible, more level-headed and contrite, whereas the other is just a little wacky. Asked about a story, he blurts out something about monkeys and camp. Herzog himself is markedly disinterested in him, whereas a lot of time is devoted to the man who isn't going to die, a long soliloquy by his guilt-wracked father - serving life in the same prison - that we presume is as sentimental as he pled to the court with it.

The bitter, hard-to-swallow truth is that this guy's life is simply better movie material, makes for a better story, and this decides life - notice too his wife's sappy story about their first encounter, misty-eyed soap as it is.

So even though the film seems more streamlined and ordinary for Herzog, talky opposed to visually primal, it is as pure as he ever delivered, perhaps without himself knowing it.

The whole system we have devised to support life, call it state, society, civilization, is not an infallible, impartial machine but hinges on the bias of storytelling and emotion. The law is arbitrary, equally chaotic as what is meant to organize. At the bottom of that, there is only time and emptiness.

Observant Herzog fans will note that he used this intertitle - 'Time and Emptiness' - for the closing segment of his Buddhist documentary Wheel of Time. See if you can spot the powerful connection between these two, the floating worlds and ritual they portray.

Into the Abyss is Herzogs most haunting piece since his 1979 remake of Nosferatu and to me, it would appear to be his most personal work to date. Herzog has always been an outspoken warrior against capitol punishment, so I assumed this would be preachy, overstated, and direct. To my surprise this is one of the most understated documentaries on death row inmates and those around them I have ever had the pleasure of watching.

Centering around the homicides committed by two Texas youths over a car in the early 2000's and the consequences felt by all the people involved, Into the Abyss isn't about guilt or innocence, nor is it about wrong or right. Into the Abyss is about staring the reality of it all in the face.

Herzog leaves no stone unturned as he interviews the perpetrators, the victims families, the wife and father of one of the prisoners, the prison chaplain, a series of acquaintances, the police captain, and a retired prison guard that was once the modern day equivalent of the town executioner. None of whom dwell on the deaths of those killed or the upcoming death of Micheal Perry (the inmate that was given death) but life after the events. How their worlds were effected is the topic and even though Herzog states clearly he opposes the death penalty he never harps on it.

The subjects that are interviewed were obviously hand picked with care and it all amounts to an eerie retrospect on how the world misses the big picture when it comes to taking the life of another for crimes they have committed. Easily the most jaw dropping documentary of the young 2010's decade. I cant think of another film that got me so emotionally involved while seemingly dancing around the main subject. Herzog has done it again, but I cant call it triumphant. No, Into the Abyss isn't a triumph at all. It is an epic tragedy that should be watched by those both pro and anti capitol punishment.

I have seen many Herzog films: Encounters at the End of the World, Rescue Dawn, Grizzley Man, and Aguirre: The Wrath of God, just to name a few. I have always been fascinated with his work.

Herzog documentaries are notable for using locals instead of professionals to give it a ring of truth. It makes for a more interesting story.

This film was made 8 days before Michael Perry, a man on death row convicted of murdering Sandra Stotler, a fifty-year-old nurse, was to be executed. He was suspected, but never charged, in two other murders which occurred in Conroe, Texas, with his accomplice Jason Burkett. Perry was convicted eight years earlier of the October 2001 murder, apparently committed in order to steal a car for a joyride. Perry denies that he was responsible for the killings, blaming Burkett (also appearing in the film) who was convicted of the other two murders. Burkett, who received a lesser life sentence for his involvement, likewise blames Perry.

The tales of all involved, especially the inmate's father, and the warden, were fascinating.