Stranger with a Camera: Too Close for Accuracy

On a basic, gut-level reaction to the film, I found Elizabeth Barrett’s self-disavowed defense of Hobart Ison unsettling at best, and at worst, appalling . Certainly, viewers should be encouraged to foster an appreciation for a different walk of life—in fact I believe we could all benefit from a fat slice of humble pie from time to time—but the cold hard fact that a crazed Hill-person shot and killed a man who merely wished to inspire social evolution did not sit well with me. Say what you will in defense of a simpler way of living, but in real life you can’t shoot and kill people who may or may not be trying to embarrass you. Hobart Ison received ten years in prison for premeditated murder, one of which served, all the while his community of Apalachia rallying around him as if he were some sort of martyr-prophet. Barrett comments on how she struggled with her, “Instinct to protect my community from those who would harm it,” and the objectivity of her film suffers as a consequence.

One detail of Elizabeth Barrett’s Stranger With a Camera stood out as particularly puzzling to me during the screening: For what purpose does Barrett insert her own dilemma as an artist into the documentary, seemingly without relevance to the story? Beneath the surface of a crazy Hillbilly who shoots a reporter, beyond the justification for an archaic act of brutality, the viewer observes as Barrett struggles with her own role as a filmmaker—taking example from Hugh O’Connor’s mistakes and attempting to remain detached and fully objective without hurting anyone's feelings. Unfortunately, Barrett’s final product comes across as much too compassionate towards a way of life which in many regards simply cannot be judged as acceptable by any standards. One surmises that Elizabeth Barrett, while a talented filmmaker with exceptional self-awareness, began this project too close to her subject material to have remained objective.

Often, the urge to protect one’s home is simply too great to ignore, even if only on a subliminal level. In modern media, especially in the case of the Iraq war, one must be wary of media monopoly. Even when pretexted under the best of intentions, objectivity can easily go awry. Take a look at similar stories written about the city of Mosul, Iraq only a few months apart—one published in the Guardian, the other from the New York Times. For example, one statement made by both parties indicates that many insurgents have escaped from Mosul. The Guardian reports,

“But most al-Qaida insurgents slipped away before it began - and they are now slipping back,”

while The New York Times comments,

“the Iraqi military appears to have allowed many insurgents to slip out of Mosul.”

Many of the facts are the same: dates, names, areas, statistics; yet the overall tone of the two articles vary immensely. It is the job of the viewer/reader/listener of media presentations to draw inferences from what is said, but equally (sometimes more) importantly, what is not said.