GFF 2012: Tales of Life and Death
Death might be the final act, but it's only the beginning of the debate. We examine three films showing at GFF that engage with this controversial subject
Last month, MSP Margo MacDonald re-introduced a bill into the Scottish parliament that would legalise assisted suicide. It follows her previous attempt in 2010, and if her bid is successful Scotland will be the first country in the United Kingdom to allow terminally ill people the right to die. The subject is a hot topic at the moment, so GFF's inclusion of several films focusing on death is timely.
While the debate is still ongoing in Scotland, in 1994 Oregon became the first American state to legalise assisted dying. Peter Richardson's documentary, How to Die in Oregon, which won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance in 2011, follows a number of people considering the options available to them. From its opening scenes, in which Roger, who's terminally ill, takes a cocktail of drugs to begin his suicide, this HBO film is powerful. As Roger is asked his final question, “what will this medication do?” and replies, “it will kill me and make me happy,” the right to choose – and the lack of choice enforced upon others – is at the forefront of the discussion.
At the other end of the spectrum is Werner Herzog's latest documentary, Into the Abyss. While How to Die in Oregon records dying people's right to end their own life on their own terms, Into the Abyss explores capital punishment. After Michael Perry and his accomplice Jason Burkett took the lives of Sandra Stotler, her teenage son, and his friend, Perry's choice to live is removed by the state. Herzog uses this case to examine the death sentence, and the effect both it and the crime that precedes it have on the families involved, in his usual non-judgemental, matter-of-fact manner. As with Richardson's film, the viewer is invited to form their own opinions, and how each film is viewed will undoubtedly be affected by the viewer's beliefs. It is especially interesting that, while the argument within How to Die in Oregon focuses on each individual's right to control their own life, former – and reformed – executioner Fred Allen claims “nobody has the right to take another life” in Herzog's documentary.It is this contrast between the right to end one's own life, and the right to end the life of another's, that resonates so strongly between these two documentaries.
The third film of the festival focusing on death is The Crow, a graphic novel adaptation from 1994. While seemingly unrelated – it is not a documentary, not based on truth, and doesn't question the ethics of an individual's right to choose their own fate – it is a poignant addition to the festival's roster. A straight-forward, violent revenge story, The Crow follows Eric Draven (Brandon Lee) who is brought back from the grave to avenge his and his fiancée's death at the hands of a group of thugs. For Draven, his actions serve as just retribution for the tragedy that befell him and his lover, and he cannot find peace until his sadistic killers are destroyed.
While on the surface The Crow seems a simple tale of fiction, events that occurred during filming have added another layer to its story. An error made during loading a gun with dummy cartridges went unnoticed, and the film's lead (and son of martial art legend Bruce Lee) was shot on set during filming. After he failed to get back up once the director, Alex Proyas, shouted “cut!”, he was rushed to hospital, where he was pronounced dead after a failed attempt at emergency surgery. He was 28 years old. It is hard to imagine anyone other than Lee portraying the tragic, gothic Eric Draven, and the film's plot – that of a life unfairly taken too early – is reflected off screen by the horrible truth of the actor's demise.
This year, GFF offers its audience three sides to one important, controversial story. The debate continues as to whether the individual has the right to die and whether the state has the right to kill. Then, in the case of Brandon Lee, viewers are shown a man who was offered no choice, no warning, and died, seemingly without cause or reason, for his art. His unintentional sacrifice has, however, ensured both his, and his film's, legacy. There is a message, a powerful message, at the heart of each of these films, and none should be ignored.