Derick Murray

  • I Am JFK Jr. (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, April 2022) Now that I’ve seen almost all of Derick Murray’s “I Am” series of biographical documentaries, I knew what to expect from I Am JFK Jr.: a semi-hagiography about a dead celebrity featuring friends and family, going through the man’s life and delivering a sympathetic assessment of his achievements. Considering those expectations, the result is not surprising. The obvious question about John F. Kennedy Jr., of course, is whether there was more to him than the scion who died too soon from a 1999 plane crash.   A young boy at the time of his father’s assassination, JKF Jr. instantly became American royalty – someone groomed for higher office, whatever and whenever that office may be. That never happened: other than founding a moderately striking lifestyle/politics magazine (“George,” which lasted from 1995 to 2001 — barely outliving its founder after a precipitous drop in interest while JFK Jr. was still alive), JKF Jr. worked at the intersection of law, politics and New York City: working in the public defender’s office and being a darling of the tabloid press. The documentary draws a largely chronological portrait of his life using interviews with notable figures (the most incongruous of them being Ann Coulter), friends and drawing upon archival footage. The tack that the film takes in approaching JFK Jr.’s legacy can be summed up in a simple quote cited early in the film as a framing device: “People often tell me I could be a great man. I’d rather be a good man.”  Or, in other words, here is someone to be applauded for living his life well rather than being insanely ambitious in fulfilling the expectations of others. Anything that would distract from this narrative (such as the ongoing decline of his magazine by the time of his death) is not really mentioned, although the film does leave a few breadcrumbs to suggest that, through it all, JKF Jr. was positioning himself to make a jump in politics if the right circumstances presented themselves. But that’s the nature of the “I am” biopic series: an homage, an easy lesson and not a serious work of scholarship. It’s well done, though, and entertaining as well – Four years later, Murray’s I am Jackie O would revisit a closely related topic, so there’s a double-bill possibility for you.

  • The Cowboy (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On TV, July 2021) While the version of The Cowboy that I saw was presented as a feature-length documentary, I see that IMDB lists the film as a two-episodes series, which does make sense considering the clear change in topic midway through. The entire film is presented as a documentary homage to the western movie genre, and specifically the archetypical figure of the cowboy. It’s produced and directed by Canadian documentarian Derick Murray, which is interesting in how the result shares one common annoyance with Murray’s better-known “I Am” biographical series: it’s utterly uninterested in delivering an impartial take on its topic. If you’re looking for an incisive commentary on the cowboy archetype, go elsewhere because, while The Cowboy will gladly discuss differences between movie cowboys and real-life historical figures, it’s firmly in the “print the legend” camp: there’s no critical re-evaluation of the toxicity of the archetype, its decreasing relevance to a more complex society that values cooperation over self-reliance, or the sometime-repulsive incarnation of American racism through the cowboy. Seeing Adam Beach being present to praise the character of Tonto is… interesting. While The Cowboy is too smart a piece of filmmaking to not at least mention those issues, they’re quickly forgotten as the narrative moves to an overall loving appreciation of its subject. (This too is a characteristic of the “I am” series: they’ll fleetingly mention and minimize the flaws but then rush past it to tell us how wonderful their subject was.)  But I’m probably being a bit too harsh on what remains, in the end, a serviceable documentary. Talking heads (including the always-entertaining Ben Mankiewicz) are interspaced with movie footage to first present a short history of the western genre, and then (in the film’s second half) compare historical figures with their Hollywood adaptations. Many of the people interviewed in the film are part of western appreciation societies or are associated with horse-riding, and that probably influences the tone of the film as well, never daring to stray too far from their enthusiasm for their lifestyle. Seen five years after production, The Cowboy also has odd notes due to the topicality of some of its material. Produced close to the release of Seth MacFarlaine’s western parody A Million Ways to Die in the West (about as high-profile a western film as there has been in 2010s Hollywood), it places an emphasis on that film that seems unwarranted only a few years later. Ah well — I suppose that a play-nice documentary is a better commercial prospect than one that really prods its topic, and The Cowboy does have its moments of insight despite the upbeat tone.