Set entirely inside Folsom Prison, The Work follows three men during four days of intensive group therapy with convicts, revealing an intimate and powerful portrait of authentic human transformation that transcends what we think of as rehabilitation.
Gruppeterapi for mordere, Mordere i gruppeterapi
USA
South by Southwest Film Festival
Netherlands12
Netherlands
USA
100
Rattles the soul. The deep, dark shit. Emphasizes that, at the end of the day, all we humans can do is embrace our common issues and rise above them. It doesn't have to be the same every goddamn time. We can teach kindness to our children. We can tell them that it's important to hug, kiss, and cry in pursuit of catharsis and empathy. We can provide a break in the cycle of violence and toxicity found in social masculine narratives. It starts with conversation, looking in the eyes of another, and letting tears stream forth, all because you feel something. It should be encouraged, and accepted, as normal, positive behavior. Our hearts should beat in unison. The Work is a landmark, simply due to its resolve and progression of respected human emotion. It visualizes bodies as they are: living, breathing, feeling. Let's show this in schools and talk about it afterward.
We Need to Talk About Brian.
A man makes a sound in this film I've never heard before. It's something else. The most fascinating thing is how many of the men seem to express some sort of doubt or unwillingness just before they break, as if that vocalized denial is actually a part of the process of healing. You have to lie to yourself before you can get to the truth.
i love watching movies that i know will make me cry until i actually turn them on
After it ended I called my Dad and told him I loved him.
Exorcistic by nature, as I discuss on my Top 5 of 2017 podcast here. To fight back against one criticism I saw elsewhere, this is of course not a film filled with neatly framed images, but it does what cinema is supposed to do: capture bodies in all their emotions. We don't live in a world of #OnePerfectShots; we should not ask our documentaries to do so. We do live in one in which bodies are continually moving, breathing, expanding, closing, touching, releasing—and the cameras capture that to their full extent here.
☆"Why can't we be enough to hang onto?"☆
(Quick aside: If you've been in prison, you're already well aware of "social distancing." Yeah, it's called "lockdown." Although it's kinda hard to stay six feet away from your cellie when the cell is 6x12. Things that make you go "hmmmm.")
Like a lot of things about jail, your first group therapy session stays with you. I can't speak for everyone who's ever been locked up, but I vividly remember that first time and the men around me. I'd known them for a bit -- like nearly every program there, it takes far too long to organize, and the meetings are far too infrequent -- but sitting there and being forced (though…
The father of all daddy issue movies.
how do i talk about toxic masculinity? i'm fortunate in a lot of ways especially regarding my own masculinity. i was raised by two people who encouraged my vulnerability, who encouraged me to feel. they allowed me to experience art beyond my age range since they saw my maturity and my need for something more than what i had. i've only seen my father cry a few times properly, one time on a day i don't remember anything else about several years ago, and he was sobbing his heart out about something i still don't know about, and came to me and held onto me, sobbing into my shoulder. my father's never been one to be severe or rigid to…
“Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,
turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,
will never know the source
from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering
the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished
for something else.”
—David Whyte
Amy’s Progress | Ep 14 | Andrew Draper
Audio • Video
Sidenote: You don’t have to see The Work before engaging with this ep, but I’d encourage everyone to seek it out. Few films in my life have been more rewarding as an experience.
This movie: Hey bro wanna cry hardcore nonstop for an hour and a half while we breakdown the fragile facade of masculinity?
Me: sure why not!
In a year of great docs, this might be the best. The cinematic equivalent of an exorcism that rips out the guts of masculinity to reveal repressed vulnerability and deep sadness. A humbling experience.
