Critic’s Notebook: In Praise of Frederick Wiseman, America’s Greatest Living Filmmaker

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Occasionally, a filmmaker’s work undergoes a significant reevaluation by both critics and the public, elevating them to the ranks of renowned directors.

The recognition as auteurs, or directors with unique visions, came to Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock, and Samuel Fuller in the 1950s when French critics praised them beyond just skilled genre filmmakers. Later, John Ford’s work was re-evaluated by Peter Bogdanovich and Lindsay Anderson, who argued he was more than just a creator of iconic Westerns. In the 1990s, Krzysztof Kieslowski from Poland and Abbas Kiarostami from Iran, both established directors since the 70s, finally gained international acclaim. More recently, Agnès Varda, a previously overlooked member of the New Wave movement, has been rediscovered through retrospectives and film festivals.

It’s time the same thing happened for Frederick Wiseman.

To begin with, let’s be honest: The 95-year-old Boston resident is widely regarded as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, documentary filmmakers in history. Over a career spanning almost 60 years and 46 films, he has earned the reputation as the foremost chronicler of American institutions, along with some French ones as well.

The films he produces through his company Zipporah Films (named after his deceased wife), which range from 75 to 358 minutes in length, have been self-made and funded primarily by PBS and other American public broadcasters, with recent funding coming from France. These movies often carry simple titles such as Basic Training, Meat, Zoo, City Hall, and State Legislature. However, beneath these unassuming names lie intricate portrayals of human life in late 20th and early 21st centuries, featuring individuals from various racial, social, and professional backgrounds grappling with systems they can’t fully master.

The movies he makes (which can run up to 6 hours) are produced by his company Zipporah Films and financed mainly by U.S. public broadcasters like PBS, but more recently in France too. They have simple titles like Basic Training, Meat, etc., but they’re actually deep explorations of human life during the late 20th and early 21st centuries, featuring people from all walks of life dealing with complex systems they can’t fully control.

Over the past ten years or so, the true brilliance of Wiseman has been recognized more broadly. In 2020, a New York Times Magazine article titled “What if the Great American Novelist Didn’t Write Novels?” suggested that his work isn’t just a collection of institutional portraits, but a sequence of “long, strange and unyielding” films created by an “extraordinarily visionary artist.” A year afterwards, Shawn Glinis and Arlin Golden introduced the highly acclaimed Wiseman Podcast, delving into each film with extensive analyses and interviews, even speaking with him personally. Additionally, a 2010 MoMA retrospective included a catalog where Wiseman’s work was commended by artists and thinkers outside of the documentary world.

Over the past year, career-review exhibitions were held in cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Paris. These events showcased 33 restored movies, thanks to Steven Spielberg’s backing. This has given a new crop of cinema enthusiasts an opportunity to either revisit or experience for the first time his films in their immaculate state. Moreover, it has allowed them to appreciate the vastness of his creative aspirations.

Over the past few months, I’ve watched around 20 of his movies in Paris, some even filling up the theater. With each viewing, I grew more aware that Wiseman is not just a brilliant documentary filmmaker, a title he’s never accepted. Rather, he’s simply a remarkable filmmaker, full stop. In my opinion, he stands as the greatest American filmmaker we have today, regardless of his current residence in France.

His movies, which take place in various locations like schools, libraries, offices, police stations, department stores, museums, and other public or private settings, are not just dry, factual portrayals of institutions and their employees. Instead, they offer meticulously crafted stories filled with intense drama, biting wit, and raw emotion. These tales feature authentic performances by genuine individuals that will leave you in awe on the silver screen.

Here are some rephrased examples:

1. The climactic scene in High School, where a teacher publicly reads a letter praising a former student who was bravely serving in Vietnam.
2. A particularly humiliating incident depicted in Welfare, reminiscent of the existential struggle portrayed in Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot.
3. The camaraderie-building moment in Missile, when two Air Force trainees enthusiastically slap hands following a simulated nuclear attack drill.
4. A gripping and lengthy surgical procedure on a racehorse, featured prominently in Racetrack.
5. An intense vomiting episode by a drug-addled character in Hospital, echoing the infamous exorcism scene from the movie The Exorcist.
6. The bizarre transformation of NATO military exercises into surreal war games, as depicted in Manoeuvre.
7. A heartwarming moment in Blind, where a young girl takes her first steps with the aid of a cane.
8. The shocking scene in Belfast, Maine, where a wolf is brutally gunned down.
9. A poignant and heartbreaking sequence in Public Housing, showing an elderly man being evicted from his apartment with no idea of where he would go next.

Wiseman didn’t personally oversee the filming of these scenes in a conventional sense, such as shouting “action” or “cut.” Instead, he documented them, focusing on sound while other cameramen like William Brayne and John Davey handled the cinematography. Later, he edited those captured moments into cinematic sequences that were pure art.

For those unaccustomed to his method, his films are typically filmed in segments lasting between six and ten weeks, followed by editing by the director for approximately nine months to a year. If editing is what sets cinema apart from other art forms, providing the means to shape time and incidents as desired, then Wiseman’s talent resides in his ability to construct complex, emotionally resonant works from all the footage he has compiled. It’s not exactly direct cinema or cinéma vérité — two documentary styles that came before him — but the conversion of raw material into “reality fictions,” as he labels his films.

In another scenario, I’d challenge any director to replicate the intense emotional impact that two striking scenes from the series “Law and Order” set in Kansas City left on us. One scene involves a heated teenager being forcefully held back by a group of police officers, while the other depicts a female sex worker being brutally strangled by a detective.

These scenes are not just disturbingly violent, but they depict Black citizens being forcefully controlled by white police officers in a way that still feels painfully relevant today, as it did back in 1969. Each scene in a Wiseman film is intended to be understood on two levels – the obvious events taking place and the deeper, symbolic significance hidden beneath. The scenes from Law and Order carry a powerful message about America, both in the past and the present.

Which brings us to what makes Wiseman so important today.

We currently find ourselves in a period marked by significant political and social turmoil, where it seems like our nation is undergoing transformations we never thought possible. The films of Wiseman serve as valuable guides, revealing the underlying tides of capitalism, patriotism, religious fundamentalism, racism, and classism that have consistently existed, albeit to varying extents, within the United States.

In these troubled times, when our country seems to be rapidly changing in unexpected ways, Wiseman’s movies help us understand the hidden forces behind this change – capitalism, patriotism, religious fundamentalism, racism, and classism that have been present all along in the U.S., although they might not have always been so visible.

As a devoted admirer, I must confess that while his movies often exude warmth and humanity, they can at times feel critical or melancholic – a unique blend of humor tinged with tragedy that mirrors the complexities of American society. Yet, amidst this apparent pessimism, there’s an underlying optimism that resonates profoundly. This optimism lies in the fact that despite our increasing individualism as a society, we remain capable of uniting for a higher purpose, demonstrating our collective strength and resilience.

In this context, a classic scene from Wiseman’s perspective might involve individuals gathered in a conference room, deliberating over an issue until they arrive at a resolution. Critics of the director may find these scenes boring, reflecting his hands-off, observational style in filmmaking.

However, as our institutions face critical challenges, these scenes seem to be underscoring a recurring motif that Wiseman has subtly emphasized throughout his career – spanning decades and various films – and which has unexpectedly become more pertinent than ever: the everyday wonder, now at risk, of democracy in practice.

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2025-04-24 22:25