Wisconsin Death Trip

Unapologetically dark. Unashamedly morbid and moody. This documentary offers an alternative, more realistic, depiction of American life at the turn of the twentieth century. Mundane elements of work, love, marriage, and simple existence in the American North are swept up in an undercurrent of darkness that reminds the viewer that history is not all presidents, education, and industry. This documentary offers both sides of life, not just the common, brightly lit portion that is outlined in popular media and historical documents. This is all not to say, however, that the film is oppressive or grotesque: accounts of insanity, murder, and tragedy are intermixed with elements of black humor and sarcasm. Well worth the hour-and-a-half running time.

Wisconsin death trip is not really a film that can be accused of being "entertaining." entertainment implies that you will sit their gripped by the story and enthralled by the narrative, and this can be applied to most documentaries, such as Bowling for Columbine or Spellbound.

However, Wisconsin death trip is not most documentaries. there is no narrative or story. instead, we are given a litany of deaths and events in the life of a small town in Wisconsin, USA. obviously, this is not going to be the happiest of films.

filmed in a soft black and white, with the exception of some shots of the town in modern times, we are given an insight into the strange events and deaths in the - whose name I forget ^_^;; - over the course of four different seasons.

for some reason, I found this film to be strangely compelling. whilst not having a huge running time, it gave me a morbid curiosity that kept me watching. strangely enough, you do start wanting to see what could possibly happen next in this small town.

In conclusion, whilst it is a slow-paced film, it can be compelling if you let it, and by the end you're wondering how many strange deaths one area can actually suffer.

7/10.

Wisconsin Death Trip is a beautifully filmed, lyrical look at the underside of human existence in Black River Falls, Wisconsin during the late Victorian era, cross-cut with color images of Black River Falls one hundred years hence (1997). Told with still photographs, renactments, narrators, Wisconsin Death Trip will certainly shock moviegoers who long for the 'good old days' when we lived in close-knit small towns (or farms), life was simple, immigrants were hard working, family farmers were successful, and children always obeyed their parents.

WDT shows us, often graphically, that murder, madness, crime, drug and alcohol abuse, arson, bad children, guns, superstitions, poverty, ignorance, adultery, and fears about old age have always been with us and perhaps will always be with us.

The only negative comment I can make is about the veracity of the 'documentary'. Many of the events that were reported in the movie to have occurred in the pages of the Black River Falls newspaper occurred in other places - Beaver Dam and Poynette are much further south, Appleton is much further east, Eau Claire and Rhinelander further north, and the state mental hospital in Mendota is in Madison. The river and the sandstone bluffs are near the Wisconsin Dells; beautiful, in Wisconsin, but not near Black River Falls.

Anyway, I think that for such a beautifully photographed film such as this, it is minor quibble. Wisconsin Death Trip is the movie you would get if Fellini, an absurdist and grandmaster of black and white film, had worked with Bergman, with his dour humanism and northern European sensibilities.

Loved it. My family came from Wisconsin; wish they had used some of our family stories.

This gripping documentary looks at events, many of them dealing with homicide, suicide, and mental illness, in the life of the town of Black River Falls, Wisconsin, during the nineteenth century.

If you think we are presently living in an unprecedentedly violent age, it will be enlightening to see the number of husbands who shot wives, wives who shot husbands, lovers who shot each other, parents who killed children, and children who killed whomever, in this sleepy midwestern town, filled with hard-working citizens of German and Norwegian descent.

Added into the mix is a remarkable number of mentally ill or drug-addicted people, notably Mary Sweeney, the "Wisconsin Window-Smasher," who destroyed tens of thousands of dollars worth of windows across the state, while taking cocaine to "steady her nerves."

The film is a combination of still photographs from the era and black-and-white set-piece recreations of the incidents, narrated beautifully by Ian Holm. The viewer should be warned, however, that it is not until the very last frame of the credits that we learn that not all the photographs shown necessarily correspond to the people in the incidents described.

A great work of social history, exploring a side of life many people prefer to ignore.

The film is based on newspaper articles and photos, which is surely why it is so emotionally detached from its subjects, but it is simply not possible to have absolutely no emotional connection to any of the characters and remain interested in hearing about their deaths for two hours. It becomes tedious after the first 20 minutes and almost unbearable after 45. The main reoccuring characters -- a whispering mental hospital clerk and a woman who compulsively breaks windows -- are given no personality at all, only roles to perform, and only add to the problem. While well-shot, this movie is dull, plodding, and the worst kind of bad movie: it doesn't even attempt to entertain you, it just drags you along, waiting for the end.