Cameraperson

Cameraperson (2016) is a documentary, directed by Kirsten Johnson, about her own career. Johnson has directed--or done the cinematography--for many documentaries that certainly appear to be extremely interesting. Unfortunately, I haven't seen any of them, so I can't comment directly about her work. She calls Cameraperson an autobiography, but I don't think that's really accurate. We do learn a bit about Johnson and her family in the movie, but mostly we see a patchwork quilt of her work. (I say patchwork quilt because Johnson has presented short segments of her films in seemingly random order.)

Michael Moore--who appears in one of the segments--is a documentary film director who is always in the center of his movies. However, Johnson doesn't seem to appear much in her own films. (One exception is a movie she filmed in Bosnia. She returned five years later to interview the same people, and they treated her like an old friend.)

Johnson is talented, so a short segment of each film whets your appetite. However, each segment is too short to be satisfying. Also, it's hard to learn why she makes documentaries. Is it just what she does, or does she have a political or social agenda? Johnson doesn't tell us, so we have to speculate.

We saw this film at the excellent Little Theatre in Rochester, NY. It will work almost as well on the small screen.

Much has been said about this film. It's not your typical documentary on a specific issue or topic. It's also not a completely straight-forward autobiography, but I do think it's some type of autobiography that, while unique, still very much reveals something about the subject. The subject in question here is Kirsten Johnson, and all of the images and footage chosen to be shown to us do tell us something about her. Despite not really talking about her own life or only appearing on camera for a few seconds, the images and her interactions with those around her do give us a glimpse as to who this person is. That is why in that respect it is an autobiography of some sort, the type that shows rather than tells. It's a fascinating picture through and through and highly recommended.

Kirsten Johnson's CAMERAPERSON is a documentary collage lovingly pieced together from outtakes of the many documentaries she's worked on in her long career as, well, a cameraperson. Intermingled with these outtakes are snippets from Johnson's personal life: playing with her twin toddlers, poignant flashes of her mother succumbing to Alzheimer's, sweet moments with her father & the twins at her parents' home in Beaux Arts, WA. In the vein of Koyaanisqatsi or Fast, Cheap & Out of Control, the seemingly unrelated clips are woven together until patterns begin to emerge. In the Q&A afterward, Ms. Johnson said that in most every Q&A an audience member discovers a new pattern or theme--pointing to an editing process that is both intentional & subconscious. The pacing & structure of the movie invokes the essence of fleeting memories. As an audience, we are given a behind the scenes look at what it takes to make documentaries. In a clip that illustrates the difficult balance between objective observer & compassionate storyteller, we watch a Bosnian toddler attempting to play with an axe. As his tiny fingers come perilously close to the blade, the audience cringes & we hear an off-camera exclamation of "Oh, Jesus!" from Johnson. An intimate portrait of a cameraperson, illustrating the delicate balance between the personal & the professional.

Kirsten Johnson has been working in the camera department and as cinematographer, producer and director for decades; her first credit, according to the Internet Movie Database, was in 1996. This movie is a series of excerpts from the movies she has handled the camera on, all over the world, from Afghanistan to Serbia, to Brooklyn, to her family. She calls the results onscreen an album, and a betrayal: that you may have someone's permission when filming, but later.... in some ways it is a betrayal: particularly when she films her mother in the grip of Alzheimer's.

But even an album requires organizing. Even if you include everything, the order of each sequence's inclusion affects its meaning; that's the point of the Kuleshov Effect. So what does this movie add up to, what does it say, what does it mean?

That is a question that can only be answered by the audience, the often unremarked component of cinema. A good film maker, a good editor, can often estimate what that result is, but only the audience can say what it is. Theory and practice: try it out and see what the result is. It's experimental cinema. The creator may have an opinion, but, well, at that point, it's no longer Miss Johnson's movie.

Kirsten Johnson's 2016 visual memoir. Johnson, a camera woman (or person to be fair) who has worked for years on documentaries compiles a series of scenes from the films she's shot to deliver a personal travelogue which ranges in locations as Gitmo, Africa, Bosnia & even her own homestead featuring unique glimpses of people like Bosnian survivors of their genocide from the recent past, child birth in Africa, & even her own young twin children at an early age. Perhaps one of the lingering moments from the film is footage from her mother (who passed away from Alzheimer's complications) still alive & while not being mentally vibrant, the image of her still walking among the living (at a time when she had long passed) is heartfelt & gripping. Nothing resembling a traditional narrative can be found here but if you're in interested in the visual mind of an artist & where they were at a given time, this is one for you.