‘Separated’ Review: Errol Morris’ Family Separation Documentary Is Marred by Sterile Reenactments

As a gamer with decades of experience under my belt, I can confidently say that Errol Morris has always been a master storyteller, giving voice to the voiceless and shedding light on the darkest corners of society. However, his latest work, “Separated”, feels like a departure from his earlier, more empathetic style.

In the early stages of his professional life, particularly with films like “Gates of Heaven” and “Vernon, Florida,” it seemed that Errol Morris’ exceptional talent lay in amplifying the perspectives of individuals who often went unheard within the fabric of American society.

Over time, Morris’ passions have undergone a change or development. At times he’s motivated by specific issues and at others, he’s focused on exploring the complexities of well-known and infamous personalities. It’s not always anger that propels his movie-making; his latest work, “The Pigeon Tunnel“, leans more towards admiration rather than criticism. However, a sense of curiosity that was initially present in his early works has been surpassed by a growing tendency.

In his NBC News documentary titled “Separated“, the highly productive director passionately expresses his anger over the current situation. This film, which will be showcased during the fall festival, delves into the controversial border policy of separating families. Morris criticizes the hidden xenophobes responsible for devising this policy, the untrained officials who implemented it, and the fearful environment that might lead to its reemergence based on the outcome of the November election.

On both a logical and informative standpoint, the film is robustly compelling and convincing. By the end of approximately 90 minutes, it’s likely that, if you’re viewing this movie, you’ll share Morris’s anger as well.

What’s required instead, perhaps, is a dash of the classic Errol Morris approach. The movie substitutes the genuine voices of those affected by the family separation policy with generic, fictional characters in sanitized reenactments. It delivers facts effectively, but completely overlooks the emotional depth and humanity entirely.

Using the book authored by NBC News’ Jacob Soboroff as a reference, Morris takes care to underscore that while Donald Trump and Stephen Miller play significant roles in the narrative, the fundamental cruelty embedded within our border policies has persisted for numerous decades, irrespective of the political party in control. However, he also makes an effort to differentiate between the obstacles placed by earlier (and later) administrations and what transpired specifically during the Trump presidency.

Morris builds his timeline and his case convincingly enough that you won’t fret that he’s a couple of years behind on the reporting for this particular story, previously chronicled in Soboroff’s 2020 book and multiple documentaries and docuseries.

There are individuals like Jonathan White, a high-ranking official in the Office of Refugee Settlement who also attempted to blow the whistle, who were faced with an insurmountable task: trying to reconnect families that had been separated at the border. White is straightforward and unwavering, never betraying any political leanings as he elucidates the importance of safeguarding and caring for children arriving at our borders, regardless of their circumstances. This, he says, is simply a matter of basic human decency. However, he sheds light on how a system designed to aid unaccompanied minors was twisted into a tool to take children away from their parents under the guise of deterrence. Moreover, he describes how facilities intended as temporary shelters morphed into overcrowded institutions.

Morris often lends his voice from behind the camera, referring to the children left without parents as “orphans created by the state.” He even incorporates scenes from David Lean’s film “Oliver Twist” for added emphasis.

“White expresses regret as it seems the harm inflicted on the children was intended,” mirroring the consensus among many seasoned administrators who participated in Morris’ meticulous interview process using the Interrotron technology.

It came as no shock that Miller refused to participate in interviews, just like Trump and ex-Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen. They all appear less than welcoming in these images, making it difficult to fathom their concern. Elaine Duke, Nielsen’s temporary replacement, is mostly here to admit her relief at not getting the permanent position.

As a gamer, I’d say: Scott Lloyd, the ex-director of the Office of Refugee Resettlement, comes off as a classic antagonist straight out of a game. He’s slippery, prone to forgetfulness, and seems unable to provide straightforward responses to direct questions. His past superiors might find his silence comforting, but there’s no doubt he’ll evoke strong negative feelings. He’s just a scoundrel, plain and simple.

What resonated with me when White spoke about the separated kids was his observation: “They’re not symbolic figures; each one is a real child.”

I ponder why Morris elects to portray the traumatized families symbolically, as characters skillfully arranged within a meticulously crafted tableau. In the gripping narrative of Separated, we journey alongside “Gabriela” and her son “Diego,” who are played by the talented Gabriela Cartol and Diego Armando respectively. Their harrowing journey from Guatemala is reenacted in breathtaking, bloodless sequences that are artfully captured on film.

Morris’ constructed characters lack individualities, histories, or distinctive voices. They merely represent hollow representations of people, and it remains unclear as to why he opted for this method instead of finding a real mother and son who were separated at the U.S.-Mexico border, interviewing them, and sharing their authentic experiences. The reenactments seem generic, lacking specific details. The accounts they substitute – the harrowing reality of the journey, the labyrinthine bureaucratic struggles, the grim conditions within the detention centers – are not presented elsewhere in a tangible manner.

In terms of separation devices, I much prefer how Morris likens the border wall to an old zoetrope. However, the animated snippets within “Separated” don’t make use of or explain this technique in any way. To put it simply: The slats on a zoetrope allow light to pass through and bring still images to life. Unfortunately, this doesn’t apply to our fictional character “Diego”.

Rather than them, the wall slats and zoetrope reminded me of the illumination missing within this space, as it could be vividly portrayed by individuals from America’s periphery who truly embody the essence of “Separated“.

2024-08-29 15:25

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