Strong Island

I wanted this to be The Thin Blue Line. It wasn't. That's a pretty high bar for a doc. I was probably being unfair. But I was disappointed. The families rage at the murder of their son/brother came through. But the story of what happened didn't. It just felt like rage. Understandable, but not what I want in a doc.

Racism is still big and not just in America. But with all the movements going on, there is a certain spotlight on it. Not to mention the current POTUS, who whatever you think of him, has divided and is dividing people as we speak (or rather as I write). But this isn't about Republicans or Democrats, it's about a tragic family story.

It may not strike a chord with everyone, but watching some of the interviews you don't have to feel bad if you choke at some of the descriptions and happenings. It's quite human and it's also human that certain things are subjective. When it comes to what someone else feels about a certain situation, there might be two different views on things. While someone jokingly playing with a knife may seem silly and innocent to some, some others may feel threatened and disrespected. So this is not an exact example from the movie, but you will know what I'm talking about if you watch the documentary ...

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.

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.

Moving and incredibly honest portrayal of The Ford family's tragedies resulting from racial segregation. Some questions left unanswered: Who was Lesline and did the family get the car back.

Any mother raising sons prays to get through that difficult period from 14 or 15 to full maturity. This exemplar American family almost made it.

But local corruption put a monster in its path: the corrupt Datre family, and the cops they owned. How could a grand jury not return a true bill for mot murder but manslaughter if the fix was not in or the jury was not dominated by racists?

Why should one stupid outburst of anger negate justice for a young man who risked his life to apprehend a mugger? Was this testimony included about William's last day?

Very thought provoking.