Happy Valley

I liked this documentary very much. Watching people involved in the unchecked crimes of Jerry Sandusky give their side of the story was much more revealing than reading quotes. Matt Sandusky, Jerry's adopted son, impressed me as thoughtful and sincere. He did his best to be fair to Sandusky, saying that ninety percent of the time he spent with the man was everything a kid would want--association with fame, access to football games, etc.--but the other ten percent "would destroy you."

I was shocked when Matt, at the end of the film, said that not one single person from the Sandusky family contacted him after he went public about how Jerry molested him. What kind of people are Dottie and her relatives? If they didn't believe him, you would think someone might want to talk with him and ask him to take back his "lies." But no. That didn't happen.

The one thing missing from "Happy Valley" was any mention of the well-known fact that Paterno decided that some of his players who broke into a residence and beat people should not be put into the legal system. Paterno clearly believed that he and his players were above the law. He decided the law-breaking players would clean up the stadium after some games. It's also known that then-President Spanier and other higher-ups in the Athletics Dept. all agreed that Paterno was in charge of things like this. This piece of history is a big deal. It should have been in the documentary.

The behavior of some of the residents of Happy Valley was detestable. There's an extended scene in which these idiots don't hesitate to grab a sign from an older man making his negative view of Paterno known at the statue of the coach. A woman who wants a selfie with the statue pushes the man aside with her body. Others get in his face with red-neck-type logic. It's scary to see how conformist the community could be---all worshiping a football program.

This film had to be made, and it was made well.

I was expecting more of an independent look or balance in this thing going into it, and it seems there are 25% of the people interviewed are or for the victims of Sandusky, and the other are 75% on the side of Paterno or the school pleading ignorance.

None of the people important to establishing a third-party POV to the situation, like Sara Ganim, state or local officials, ex-school officials, etc. Are interviewed which is beyond disappointing as it doesn't provide any additional context to this situation. It is a very binary presentation of what happened in Happy Valley.

It doesn't help the last part of the show is a defense of Joe Paterno from all of his allies and family. I'm sure PSU fans loved it, but the rest of the audience does not understand why this had to be a part of the film.

An excellent documentary about how a college and it's football sycophants had to eventually grow up. What happened to Sandusky and Paterno was exactly what should've happened.

The only sad part is that Paterno died not really seeing his true fall from favor. Those that commit evil and those who do nothing to stop it are equally at fault.

Football is mindless nonsense. Perhaps in the end the students of Penn State finally actually learned something.

Bravo.

Disclaimer: I have always had an appreciation for the Penn State football program. My mother was a Penn State fan (not an alumnus though), and she would always say that Joe Paterno represented class, while almost in the same breath denounce the legendary coach of my favorite college team, Barry Switzer as being anything but. Even though I am a loyal Sooners fan (though not an alumnus of OU, simply having been born in Oklahoma), I could appreciate what JoePa and Penn State stood for.

I couldn't help but think of that as I watched this documentary. In his lifetime Joe Paterno went from being a mere man into being a mythical one. It was one legend right after another, and I don't believe it matters who you are, if left unchecked, a person can buy into their own hype. I believe that happened with Joe Paterno, and it has left an impression on a program, a university, and a community struggling to make sense of it all. The whole truth may never fully be known.

From watching this I got the sense that Joe Paterno genuinely wanted to do the right thing. Having however the myth of "St. Joe", I believe he hindered himself from doing more because he couldn't believe a monster had gotten so close to him, and he couldn't live with what that would do to his perception. His son seemed to confirm as much as he stated both his parents were very well read, but naive about many other things surrounding them. Joe was too wrapped up in his own myth.

This documentary goes to great lengths to show how others have bought into the myth as well, and their support is as blind for him as it is deep. On the one hand they'll acknowledge what was done to the kids Jerry Sandusky was supposed to be helping was terrible. Just as quickly though they will try to absolve Paterno of any wrongdoing, saying he reported what he knew. In other words, the bare minimum. For a man that had built a reputation of going above and beyond the bare minimum, this seems to me, unacceptable. Yet they don't see it.

However, the lasting impression I got from watching this, and honestly I believe this was the point of the documentary, was that there is no prototypical child abuser, and that it is possible to dupe many into thinking one thing about you when something else may be the reality. That's a sobering thought for anyone.

The line that sums up this documentary for me though is quote "You should never build statues for guys who are still alive." True character is revealed when nobody else is looking. We may think we know someone, even if only by reputation. That reputation however may be little more than a house of cards ready to fall. In the end, regardless of what Joe Paterno knew or didn't know, what he reported or didn't report, the carefully crafted myth has come crashing down.

he titular "Happy Valley" that director Amir Bar-Lev's fascinating documentary about the Penn State sexual abuse scandal focuses on sits right in my back yard. Growing up the son of a rabid college football fan (go Temple!), I spent dozens of freezing cold Saturday afternoons watching my father's pitiful Temple Owls get their asses handed to them. Several of those beatings came at the hands of Joe Paterno's Penn State Nittany Lions (that's pronounced "Nit-knee"). My father hated Joe Paterno. "He's an a**hole," he would tell my 10 year old self. My grandfather, a Temple alumni and highly regarded high school football coach, actually knew Joe Paterno personally. He was much more diplomatic. "He thinks he's God," is how he put it, if I recall correctly. And so, my opinions on Joe Paterno, Penn State and their fans have been likely influenced since the day I was born, making me an easy mark for Bar-Lev's slyly biased documentary.

For those unfamiliar with the horrific events that surround Happy Valley, it goes like this: in 2011, Penn State football assistant coach Jerry Sandusky was accused and convicted of 45 counts of sexual abuse to minors that occurred between 1994-2009. Sandusky met his victims through a non-profit charity for wayward youths he funded called "The Second Mile," earning their trust through various predatory means (free games, meals, attention they weren't getting at home). As if that weren't horrible enough, it was eventually revealed that someone had caught Sandusky raping a boy in the showers, alerted head coach Joe Paterno who in turn alerted his superiors. And then nothing. No police. No disciplinary actions. No justice. And that's what Happy Valley takes aim at. We can all agree that Jerry Sandusky is a monster, but what of the revered man who played a part in just letting the monster roam free, enabling him to damage more lives than he already had? Shouldn't he have to answer for his part in all of this? The answer, if you're a Penn State football fan, is a resounding, "NO!"

Bar-Lev populates his documentary with folks who are varying degrees of pro-Paterno. From his own immediate family who will defend their father's legacy and character to their own graves right down to the flustered Penn State football fan sitting in front of his bedroom wall scrapbook of Penn State pendants, posters and plaques complaining about everyone getting bent out of shape about this whole thing and not focusing on what really matters: football. Rather than force a reaction from his subjects, a la Michael Moore, Bar-Lev takes a page right out of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart's book and simply lets them talk and talk and talk until they hang themselves with their own words, not even realizing it in most cases. It's a funny trick, for sure, but after the 5th time you see it unfold you kind of get the point. These people are blinded by their fandom, biased by their own admiration for Joe Paterno. From the fans who traveled to take a photo with the since removed bronze Joe Paterno statue to the fans who rallied and then rioted when Paterno was fired from his head coach position in the aftermath of the FBI report that detailed his involvement in Sandusky's web of nightmares, these people will not stray from St. Joe's side.

But who is Joe Paterno and why does he have this effect on people? Happy Valley does its due diligence to give a little bit of history on Paterno and his good deeds throughout the years. That juxtaposed with video of the frail, fragile coach during his last few months make a case that he was a good man, flawed, but rooted in good intentions. Of course, we all know the old adage about good intentions and where the road they're paved in lead to. I believe they lead to the Orange Bowl, according to this gentleman with the Penn State logo painted on his naked torso.

In the end, Happy Valley is a fascinating look at this culture of fandom that even my own football-obsessed father can't reconcile. To be so blinded by winning at all costs that you'd sacrifice the innocence of a child… it's tragic and infuriating. And that's the feeling you'll get while watching this film. I only wish that it wasn't as one-sided, albeit ever so subtly, so that the other side's case wasn't presented in the condescending tone it is. Of course, how are you supposed to defend someone embroiled in a conspiracy of this nature without looking like a complete asshole? These are the kinds of problems us Temple fans never have to worry about.