Cameraperson

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.

I was lucky enough to watch this on the big screen which may have given me a bias to my sheer adoration for this film.

I was moved. I feel this captured the sheer power of cinema to give insight into ways of life we have never seen or experienced. The wonderful eye of Kirsten Johnson guides us through her experiences. Her empathy bleeds through the screen and give you a truly breathtaking documentary.

It gives you a moment to detach yourself from the world. And look at it through someone else's eye.

A documentary that isnt worried about teaching you explicit facts, but more letting you empathise and wonder about this world and all of us who reside here.

I captivated from the very first shot to the end of the credits. I will watch this again.

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.

I had such high hopes for this to work. The very title makes a huge promise, and it partly fulfills it, however You might find the Person not as charming as She thinks She is.

There's a dissonance between first two sequences of the film and the whole rest. Whatch these two. These are amazing - there the Camera really is the Person. The whole rest is pedestrian, with too much 'in your face' ideology and self indulgence.

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.