Bill and Turner Ross's second documentary feature, Tchoupitoulas, is an evocative, immersive portrait of New Orleans, seen through the wide eyes of a band of curious youth who venture across the river into the bright lights and sounds of the city for a dreamlike night of unexpected adventure. Led and narrated by the charming, overly precocious eight-year-old William with his two brothers and dog Buttercup along for the ride, the film adheres to an abstract, roving, tightly framed aesthetic that yields an almost childlike-wonderment at the endless stream of musicians, quirky drunkards and lovers that cross their path.
The Brothers Ross skillfully weave in tangents that expose the seedy, sexy underbelly of NOLA nightlife, serving as a thought-provoking counterbalance to the naive, superficial journey of the boys: We peer in on burlesque artists literally from behind a curtain, a group of transvestites belting out "Proud Mary" in a small dive bar and even jump on the stage for a grimy after hours blues show. The film takes a fascinating and dark turn as the boys miss their ferry back home, making for a satisfying narrative arc including the exploration of an abandoned cruise ship. Tchoupitoulas might feel a tad too wavy and empty for viewers looking for a more cohesive structure, but those interested in a visually compelling, intelligent journey of NOLA at night will find themselves engaged completely.
McCullin (Morris, 2012) ****
A searing, sobering look at the 30+ year career of Don McCullin, a world renowned war photographer, who ironically hates the moniker "war photographer". The first documentary feature by Jacqui Morris, a producer/director who initially started her career in film as an assistant to McCullin, the film deftly handles the photographers exploits into some of the most urgent humanitarian disasters and war zones of the 20th century. Morris interviews McCullin at his home during a wintry month in the English countryside and manages to purge shockingly vivid memories from her subject, taking us from his initial beginnings as a gruff amateur taking pictures of roughnecks in the bad side of London, to assignments in Berlin, Cyprus, Vietnam, Biafra, Cambodia and Beirut.
Morris pulls no punches here, relying on the stark, visceral humanity evoked by the sometimes violent, shocking images captured by McCullin; the edit is tight and unobtrustive. McCullin is our guide, but perhaps what is most compelling about the way he tells his story is the humility and self-deprecation about his unrelenting dedication to his subjects and the moral quandries inherent in the grey zone of journalistic ethics that one inevitably finds themselves in a war zone. One of the most pleasant, lingering surprises of this year's Hot Docs.
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