Cameraperson

Kirsten Johnson's film "Cameraperson" was instantly beloved by film critics and cineastes alike upon its release last year. It's a dose of pure, direct documentary cinema -- a poetically arranged mosaic of passages from films she's worked on for different directors, as well as footage from her own home movies (including scenes showing us her own mother, a photographer in her own right, as she struggles with the ravages of Alzheimer's).

A document of this sort stands on its own; there's very little given in the way of contextualization or explanation, and as it happens the film doesn't need any of that. It becomes its own story -- less so in the traditional narrative sense than in a transcendent manner, with the film's themes standing above words, imager and experience that address the essence of its meditations: The observer's relationship to the observed; the camera's role as a tool that provides a means for preservation, and that also enhances the human, and artistic, eye and its interpretive, as well as cognitive, function; the way a moment's shape is revealed more fully over time, in much the same way as a conception of a sculpture's dimensions emerges more fully when one walks around it in order to examine it from different angles.

What more do we need to hear, or to say, about this extraordinary film, a work that takes its place next to other (albeit more narrowly focused and artificially crafted) cinematic observances such as "Le Quattro Volte" or "Into Great Silence?"

The answer to that question: Plenty, as this Criterion Collection release proves. Johnson's film remains the centerpiece and the main attraction, with its unflinching look at troubled nations, human cruelty and suffering, raw emotion, and lyrical, sometimes almost magical, coincidence. But the story behind the film -- why it was made, how it was made, the efforts to shape it and the drive behind its production -- make for a fascinating subject also, and in this way, the extras almost constitute a second feature. In the featurette "Editing 'Cameraperson,' " Johnson talks about herself, and the footage that went into the movie, with almost confessional frankness; her comments are especially potent when she talks about filming her mother, who had previously expressed unwillingness to be subjected to Johnson's lens. The editors and producers who worked with Johnson also weigh in, and together they offer a fascinating explanation.

"In the Service of the Film" is a roundtable discussion between Johnson, two sound recordists she's worked with on different projects, and producer Gini Reticker, a colleague they all have in common. Their reminiscences about filmmaking in foreign, and sometimes dangerous, countries lends a rough romance to the whole idea of working in documentary film, though some of the specific memories they recount are nothing short of hair-raising.

Criterion being an outlet that's known for a generosity of supplements, there is also a short film by Johnson, footage taken at film festivals (including a chat between Johnson and documentary filmmaker and political gadfly Michael Moore), and liner notes by documentary filmmaker Michael Almereyda, as well as a "Director's Statement" from Johnson.

You could purchase this release for the film alone; you could, equally, buy it just for the supplemental material. All of it together makes for an irresistible package.

"Cameraperson"
Blu-ray
$31.96
https://www.criterion.com/films/29003-cameraperson