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Friday, July 29, 2011

Tabloid (4/5 Stars)


Tabloid (4/5 Stars)

“You know, you can always tell yourself that at least God knows the truth; and life would be easy enough if all you had to worry about everyday was God. But no, you also have to deal with people.”
-       Joyce McKinney, Former Miss USA contestant and alleged kidnapper/rapist of Kirk Anderson, a Mormon missionary

The closest you will get to the truth is an Errol Morris documentary. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. How about this? The most certain you will ever be that you are listening to a lie will be while watching an Errol Morris documentary. Perhaps there is an even better way to say that. When watching an Errol Morris documentary, it is possible if for only the briefest of moments to become aware of exactly what it is you don’t know. Morris deals in errors of certainty. He cast great doubts on the homicide conviction of Randall Adams in “The Thin Blue Line,” which resulted in the man's release from death row. He cast doubts on the supposed bad-apple-ness of the Abu Ghraib photographers in “Standard Operating Procedure.” He once even interviewed a Holocaust denier named Fred Leuchter Jr., in an aptly titled movie called “Mr. Death.” All of these movies had something in common. At some point, one of the interviewees with strange conviction spoke directly into the camera and flagrantly lied about something.

The bizarre tale of Joyce McKinney is no exception. Joyce made headlines as the beauty queen that travelled halfway across the world to rescue her one true love from a religious cult. She found him in London. He ditched his cult to go with her to Devonshire for three days of  “fun, food, and sex.” It was like a honeymoon. Well, that was what she claims. The police arrested her after the object of her desire, Kirk Anderson, a Mormon missionary, went to the police claiming that she had kidnapped him at gunpoint, brought him to a country cottage in Devonshire, and raped him continually for three days. Well, maybe. Joyce says the entire thing was consensual and the Mormons brainwashed Kirk after the fact. Or maybe as it is hinted, because a Mormon is supposed to be celibate during the mission, Kirk’s story was a convenient political fabrication of his own. Some things are not in dispute however. There was a cinnamon oil backrub. Joyce tied Kirk up at one point (with rope or handcuffs we do not know and either as sexual therapy or something else we do not know). Joyce took off Kirk’s magic Mormon underwear and burned them in the fireplace. And yes, they had plenty of sex. Joyce testified in court that the third time was more consensual than the first two, but insists quite fervently that it really is impossible for a woman to rape a man. “A man either wants to have sex or he doesn’t. That’s like putting a marshmallow into a parking meter,” she says with a laugh.

As if the truth couldn’t be more obscured, two British tabloids, the National Express and the Daily Mirror, got a hold of the story and did their best to further sensationalize it. The National Express bought Joyce’s exclusive story and sought to paint her in the most romantic and rosiest light possible. They published a photo of her dressed as a nun and made generous copy from quotes of hers like “I would ski down Mount Everest nude with a carnation up my nose to be with the man I love.” The Daily Mirror, being without the exclusive story, went the other and sent out a private detective to dig up dirt on Joyce. They found enough (I won’t give away what exactly) to fill a complete week’s worth of cover-to-cover tabloid, including plenty of nude pictures in let us say “role-playing” situations. The Express and the Mirror than essentially “fought” each other for the attention of the common Brit with dueling headlines of the same story telling vastly different versions of it. Two reporters, one from each paper, are interviewees here. Both are delightful chaps, but generally speaking, they are as concerned with the truth as tabloid reporters. (The man from the Express loves saying the word, “Spread-Eagled.” We don’t know if that actually happened though.) They do agree on one thing though: that Joyce McKinney is a crazy person and more importantly, a liar. Kirk Anderson, for his part, did not want to be interviewed for this documentary. In his stead is a gay ex-mormon who helpfully explains Mormon beliefs about sex. (They probably would not have approved/been terrified of Joyce McKinney.)

Joyce McKinney is most definitely a liar and perhaps crazy, but how and in what ways is not so clear. Errol Morris does a very keen thing by allowing Joyce to tell her side of the story before we get to hear everybody else’s. It is convincing. She speaks with eloquence and conviction and has logical arguments. At one point, while speaking of her love for Kirk, she actually starts crying. I was touched. Of course, later in the movie, as she seeks to discredit the Mirror and asserts that all of the photos of her were doctored (and quite clearly they were not doctored), she starts crying again. They are the same type of tears, completely indistinguishable from the first set. And I was like, “hey, wait a second.”

This is Errol Morris funniest documentary and it could easily be turned into a rather successful broad comedy. Just the idea of a beauty queen kidnapping a 6’3’’ 250 pound bespectacled and quite flabby Mormon missionary for a weekend sex getaway is just so ridiculous. And that’s just where it starts. After Joyce is released from prison and becomes famous, she starts hobnobbing through London society with celebrities (all of this is bankrolled by the Tabloids, who definitely get their money's worth when they capture Joyce smooching with The Who’s Keith Moon.) The story segment that garnered the biggest laughs in the theater was Joyce’s story of how she escaped from England by disguising herself in a Deaf-Mute Mime Troupe. She must have looked suspicious with 13 suitcases, all full with incriminating newspaper clippings. How she manages to get by Canadian customs without anyone noticing that she is an escapee with several felony charges is something straight out of, well I don't know, you wouldn't believe it if you saw it in a fictional movie. Then there is an epilogue concerning the cloning of now-middle aged Joyce McKinney’s pet dog, Booger. Errol Morris seems to have thrown that in just for fun.

 It’s impossible to tell what Errol Morris thinks of his subjects because he is so nonexistent in his movies. You never see him. If he is present at all, he is shouting unseen questions from off-screen. I remember seeing the story about the Holocaust denier and realizing that Morris spoke only once. Two hours into the movie and ten minutes from the end, he finally asks a question, “Have you ever considered that you might be wrong?” If Morris has an agenda, I haven’t the slightest idea what it could be, but whatever it is, it has made possible some of the best documentaries in the last quarter century (Fog of War, The Thin Blue Line, First Person). This seeming lack of agenda in effect gives the interviews a genuine feeling of liberation. The interviewees are always in control of their story and so they tend to speak with more abandon. Weirdly enough, it is in this cocoon of safety that the lies become so obviously transparent. The interviewee’s guard comes down and the truth (or rather what couldn’t possibly be the truth) comes out. I hear Joyce McKinney is very angry at Errol Morris at the way she is portrayed in this movie. I also hear that she is sneaking into screenings, loudly announcing herself during the credits and then gleefully bathing in the applause of complete strangers. I wouldn’t be surprised if they both tales were true, false, or somewhere in between. 


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