FILMS BY FREDERICK WISEMAN DISCUSSED IN THIS ESSAY
In his most recent documentary, Central Park, Frederick Wiseman photographs homeless New Yorkers lying on the park's benches and hillsides, covered in blankets, plastic wrappers, and bits of paper—shelter that looks more like a burial mound than protection for the night. It's as if the homeless were carrying the means of their interment around with them, as if their only 'home' could be death. This is the kind of harsh insight we have come to expect from Wiseman, who has been chronicling American institutions on film for almost twenty-five years without shrinking from life's grimmer provinces. But apart from such images, the movie is mostly a record of New York exuberance, a celebration of the city's surviving lyrical and idealistic impulses. In his films, Wiseman has often questioned received ideas and images: here he questions the commonplace that American cities are moribund.[1]
Review, 5142 words
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