"Gideon's Army"

Gideon's Army, 2013

Dir.: Dawn Porter

Prod.: Julie Goldman, Dawn Porter

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense" - Miranda warning

I usually try to avoid documentaries that are heavy with legal jargon because I often become frustrated at my inability to follow whatever the hell they're talking about. Law is not my strongest subject. I took a law course in college that I barely scraped by in (though it was a course in media law and was pretty specific and easy to follow). I've tried a couple of times to blog about legal and law-based documentaries and they are still sitting in my draft folder because I get so jumbled up trying to explain what things are that I get flustered.

But because this week's HBO documentary was centered around the law and the legal system, I dove headfirst into it and tried my best to follow. Luckily, the subject was not so much about the law as it was about the people who practice the law.  

The doc this week is Gideon's Army, which explores the lives of the overworked, underpaid, oft-overlooked public defenders of our country's legal system. The title of the documentary comes from the case of Gideon v. Wainwright. In 1961, Clarence Gideon was jailed for robbery. He was too poor to afford a lawyer and instead represented himself in court. That turned out to be not so great of a plan, because Gideon went to jail. Gideon appealed, from jail, which was granted, and he got a re-trial, with a lawyer, and was then freed by a jury. Basically, long story short, Clarence Gideon is the reason why we have these absolute angels of the legal system called public defenders. 

There are currently 15,000 public defenders at work in the US, and even though they can't buy enough gas to fill their gas tank, they are passionate about what they do. Every day, they defend those who cannot afford a lawyer, and most often, those people are guilty of their crimes and their job is to help prove these people are innocent.  

Brandy Alexander has been a public defender for three years, and she represents 180 clients at once. She speaks to her clients with a firm but gentle tone, almost like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. Travis Williams has been a public defender for less than a year, and represents 120 clients. He carries his court losses personally, and vows to one day have the names of all of his losses tattooed on his back. June Hardwick has 150 clients and still remains positive about her career, and visits her clients in jail as often as possible. 

June, Travis and Brandy are part of a program that helps train incoming public defenders, called the Southern Public Defender Training Program (SPDTP). It's the only program like it in the country. Public defenders from several states come to this program to meet, to air their grievances, and to reassure one another that they are doing what's right and they are making a difference in the country - despite the poor pay and the long hours (there's a scene where Brandy is scraping together change in order to pay for gas to keep her car running for the next two days).

The public defenders face exhausting battles. Brandy ends up having to take a week off from work because one of the men she was defending for murder was bragging to his cellmates that he was planning on murdering her if they lost their court case. 

Being a public defender is not glamorous. It is not easy, it is not fun. But it is one of the most important jobs that someone in the legal profession could have. If everyone in this country has a right to a fair trial, someone has to defend them. That's what public defenders are here for. They are here to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves. 

What is completely amazing about this documentary is the courtroom access. We get to see these court cases unfold right in front of our eyes, on film. The people who are on trial are completely open about being filmed, their faces aren't blurred, they allow the cameras access into their homes and their lives. It was amazing to get to see this process completely uncensored.

Not everyone can handle being a public defender for a long period of time. Sometimes the stress is overwhelming, and the pressure of a low paycheck is soul-crushing. But, like the head of the SPDTP tells Brandy and her co-workers, they are doing "God's work". They are speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves. It is extremely admirable, what they do, and they often go unrecognized.

Gideon's Army was a wonderful look into a side of the law that gets very little attention. I was very impressed with the access the filmmakers gained and the editing, though I really think they spent too much time focusing on Brandy and not enough on Travis and June (June actually gets the least amount of screen time).  Otherwise I thought this was a great doc that had moments of victory, moments of sadness and, always, moments of glimmering hope.

"The Loving Story"

The Loving Story, 2011

Dir.: Nancy Buirski

Prod.: Nancy Buirski, Elisabeth Halivand James

Exec Prod.: Sheila Nevins

In case you've been living under a rock for the past few weeks, section three of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) was deemed "unconstitutional" at the end of June. What does that mean? It means that same-sex partners who were married in a state that recognizes same-sex marriage are now legally recognized as "spouses" and can now receive spousal benefits - like health care and insurance benefits - like everyone else in this goddamn country. It means that in the eyes of the government, same-sex and heterosexual marriages are one in the same. 

DOMA was signed by President Clinton in 1996. It effectively barred same-sex couples who were married in states that recognized same-sex marriages from receiving spousal benefits. Let me repeat that: 1996. That was only seventeen years ago, people. 

Now that DOMA has been overturned, we're going to have a good laugh about it, right? Oh boy, how silly was that? Can you believe how uppity people were over a thing like same-sex couples getting the same benefits as heterosexual couples? My goodness, are we are going to look back one day and have a good knee-slapper. How silly everyone was! How ridiculous people were acting! What was wrong with people back then? Our children are going to be appalled that same-sex couples didn't have the same rights as heterosexual couples. Why, it's almost as ridiculous as interracial marriage being illegal! Ha-ha-ha! 

Guess what? In 1958 - a mere fifty-five years ago - interracial marriage was illegal. It was a crime that was punishable by jail time, and this was the case across 24 states. 

That was also the year that Mildred and Richard Loving were arrested in Virginia shortly after their marriage for this very reason. Mildred is black, Richard is white, and they spent nine years trying to get their marriage recognized in their home state. Told through archival footage, interviews and home video, The Loving Story tells the incredible tale of a beautiful couple and their powerful love for one another that went all the way up to the Supreme Court.

At two AM, less than two months after they were married in Washington D.C., the police entered Richard and Mildred's home, ordered them out of bed and placed them under arrest. They were put in jail for a year, but their sentences were suspended under the condition that they leave the state.

Mildred admits that she didn't know that interracial marriage was illegal. She recalls the segregated South, not being allowed to eat in "white only" restaurants, but she'd always seen black people and white people together, and it didn't bother her or anyone she knew. 

Richard and Mildred share a tender moment in their home

After they were released, Richard and Mildred were separated. Mildred went to her parents' house, Richard went to his parents'. Shortly after, they left Virginia and went to Washington, D.C., but they were under the impression that they could come back to Virginia and visit. They were wrong. Once they returned to the state, they were arrested once more.  

In a filmed interview, Richard's mother Lola Loving is surprisingly nonplussed about the whole marriage, saying she's never seen them not happy when they were together. "I like 'em. I like her," she says. "I didn't advise them not to get married." 

Peggy Loving, Richard and Mildred's daughter, recalls that her parents loved to go to drag races, and her father was passionate about building and fixing drag cars. Richard is described by friends as "warm, very friendly...he could blend and mix with any people." Other voices who'd known the Lovings describe the community they lived in as helpful and friendly. No one really cared about what race you were, and everyone helped everyone. 

The Lovings, shortly before their arrest

So what had happened in this utopia that made it all go wrong for Mildred and Richard? 

The local sheriff, that's what. It was well known that he did not get along well with the black community in Caroline County, VA, where the Lovings lived. He was the one who knocked down Richard and Mildred's door in the middle of the night to arrest them, and he was the one who kept trying to bring them back to jail.  

Mildred was unhappy living in Washington D.C., and often went back to Virginia to visit her family. They were allowed to go there separately, but not together. "Knowing them, they probably came back together," Peggy Loving says. Mildred and Richard often had to sneak around when they wanted to come together. Their friends would help them lay low, and they would stay out of public places, mainly spending time with family and keeping close to family homes. 

Mildred and Richard on the porch of the boarding house owned by Mildred's sister Garnet

In 1964, at the height of the Civil Rights movement, Mildred wrote a letter to Robert Kennedy - who was, at the time, the Attorney General of the United States - and told him her story, letting him know how unhappy she was at her plight of not being allowed back to her home state simply because she was married to a white man. He wrote back, suggesting that she contact the American Civil Liberties Union. 

Meanwhile, in the South, we start to see a very aggressive tightening of segregation and a prominence of the KKK in the South. Race issues were becoming a bigger and bigger deal, with more prominence in the media. Coinciding was the Lovings' ongoing battle with the court systems, and the runaround they were given. It wasn't until 1965 that the court of the district of Virginia finally decided that the Lovings could go to the Supreme Court of Appeals. Unfortunately, their ruling was upheld and affirmed, that Richard and Mildred were criminals, guilt of interracial marriage, which is considered just as heinous as incestual marriage. Of course, they appealed this decision again to the US Supreme Court. Richard and Mildred were flabbergasted that this was going so far. They did not attend the proceedings in Washington, D.C. but a statement was read on Richard's behalf: "Just tell the court that I love my wife."

Then, in June 1967, the US Supreme Court unanimously deemed that interracial marriage was considered 100% legal in every state. Those states that had laws against interracial marriage must revoke them immediately. The ruling read as follows: 

Under our Constitution, the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another race resides with the individual and cannot be infringed by the state. These convictions must be revered. It is so ordered. 

And just like that, Mildred and Richard were "free". 

The Lovings at a press conference following the Supreme Court ruling

After nine years, they were finally able to move back to Virginia with their children, and not have to worry about being arrested. They could go out in their hometown, hold hands, visit family and friends, without wondering who was going to break down the door and drag them away. Just like that. 

I thought that among the celebrating of DOMA being overturned, we should take a moment to thank the Lovings and honor their bravery, determination and devotion to their cause and one another. Because I feel in a way, Robert and Mildred Loving's fight to their right to marry paved the way for not only other interracial couples, but for same-sex couples as well.  

Our country is moving at a slow pace, "the wheels of justice grind slowly", but we know from the case of the Lovings that, one day, we will see equal rights for all. So while DOMA coming off the table is a step in the right direction, it does not mean the fight is over. Someday soon, we can hope to see that this:

will one day be as legal as this

In Loving Memory of Richard (1933-1975) and Mildred (1939-2008)

"12th & Delaware"

12th & Delaware, 2010

Dir.: Heidi Ewing, Rachel Grady

I know I'm mainly going to be focusing on the HBO docs this summer, but that doesn't mean that's all I'm going to be watching. This particular documentary's tenure is about to expire on HBOGO and I wanted to catch it before I wouldn't get a chance to see it anymore and I am so glad I did. 

One of my favorite styles of documentary is called cinema verite, which translates to "truthful cinema". It allows the filmmaker to remain strictly observational, and the finished product is one that is no frills, no muss, no fuss. No music, no narration, no prompting questions. They are very much a "fly on the wall". This was the style that Ewing and Grady used for their eye-opening, heart-wrenching documentary about a woman's right to choose in 12th & Delaware. 

Now, I want to preface this entry by saying that I am pro-choice, and I will leave it at that. The documentary I am about to recount will make it clear where I stand. 

The documentary begins with two teenage girls being interviewed, separately, by a woman named Anne. The first girl is Widline, age fifteen. She is ten weeks pregnant and not ready, financially or emotionally for a baby. Then there is nineteen year old Brittney, who is seven weeks pregnant, and has already aborted one pregnancy before. Anne is the matronly sort, in her late forties maybe. During each interview, Anne occasionally scurries out of the room and whispers things to a woman in an examination type room. Things like, "She's abortion-minded" and "Let's get her in for an ultrasound, and see if we can get a heartbeat."

Anne shows the girls plastic models of what their babies look like at ten and seven weeks' development. The model for the seven-week fetus is about the size of a double-A battery. The ten-week one, about the size of an iPhone. Just by seeing this, I am immediately uneasy. Then it quickly becomes clear: these girls had mistakenly walked into a pro-life clinic. 

In 1991, an abortion clinic opened up on the corner of 12th and Delaware in Fort Pierce, Florida. In 1999, a pro-life organization opened up directly across the street. Often, girls enter the "Pregnancy Care Clinic" thinking they are getting help with their unwanted pregnancies. Instead, they get pressured and strong-armed and talked out of having an abortion. The clinic workers use scare tactics and lies to manipulate the girls and women who think they are getting help. They stock their waiting rooms with pamphlets that give completely false descriptions of an abortion procedure, and claim abortions give you breast cancer. 

Now, back to what made me uneasy about what Anne said about the size of a seven- and ten-week old fetus. According to thebump.com, at seven weeks, a fetus is the size of an apple seed (approximately .13" long). At ten weeks, it is the size of a prune (approximately 1.2" long). Knowing these girls were shown completely false representations about the size of their fetuses makes me absolutely sick to my stomach. 

Across the street, the abortion clinic is run by a husband and wife, Candace and Arnold. Arnold picks up and drops off the doctors who actually performs the abortions at a separate location every day, to protect them and their families. Arnold covers the doctors with a sheet when they are on the road, so no one can see their faces or recognize them, and he insists that the doctors carry guns and wear bulletproof vests.

"This is their paycheck," Anne says of Candace and Arnold. "It's like when you walk into a car dealership, they want to sell you a car. When you walk into an abortion clinic, they want to sell you an abortion."

Every single day, protesters arrive as early as five in the morning to set up shop in front of the abortion clinic. An elderly woman is usually the first to arrive. She carries a sign that says "Thou Shalt Not Kill" and shouts at the women who walk into the abortion clinic, calling them murderers and tells them they should be ashamed and that God will save them. She is joined by others, who carry even more graphic signs depicting babies with their limbs torn apart and spouting hell fire. They often go ignored, but it's terrifying to hear and see. When women and girls come in for their procedure, the clinic workers have to warn them ahead of time that there will be protesters outside.   

Inside the abortion clinic, Candace and Arnold make sure video cameras are on the protesters at all times. Candace talks about how disgusted she is by the. She often jokes about how she wants to go over to the pro-life clinic and stage her own protest. "But we don't have the time! We're too busy...we're not obsessed with them!"

Back at the pro-life clinic, Anne is sitting with Victoria, a 24 year old woman with two children already and pregnant a third time. Their exchange is one of the most intense parts of the film. 

Victoria tells Anne that her boyfriend is verbally abusive, and is not the best father. Anne asks her how she knows the baby won't change him (here I slap my palm to my forehead so hard I black out for a second). Anne tells her she will regret her decision to abort. Victoria says no, "abortions are for getting rid of unwanted pregnancies. This pregnancy is not wanted. The only thing I regret is having sex without a condom." Anne smiles and says that condoms are only effective 85% of the time. Victoria disagrees, and tells Anne that she's never gotten pregnant when she's had sex without a condom. Their argument becomes heated and Victoria excuses herself to make a phone call. 

"This fucking bitch is getting on my nerves," she says over the phone. "If I have this baby, she's not gonna take care of it." Victoria then leaves the clinic, and drives off. Smart girl. 

Back at the abortion clinic, we view a few of the interviews that Candace has with potential patients. Her voice is warm, she smiles a lot, and asks a lot of questions. All the women she interviews have their faces hidden. The first woman Candace interviews explains that she is 47 years old and was recently diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. "When this baby is twenty, I'll be sixty-seven," she says to Candace. "That thought is why I am doing this." 

Another woman, who barely speaks above a whisper, tells Candace that her husband is violent and pressures her into having sex without protection. She says she does not want to do this. Candace is very patient and asks why she is here. "Because I have to," is her answer. "I feel like a monster." 

"You're not a monster," Candace assures her. "The only way you would be a monster would be if you had this baby and then mistreated it." 

One of the worst parts of the documentary is when a young girl - whose face is hidden - tells Candace that she'd gone across the street by accident. They gave her a pregnancy test and told her she was seven weeks pregnant. Candace asks the girl when the start of her last menstrual cycle was, and then pulls out a chart when the girl gives her a date. According to Candace's chart, the girl is actually more than ten weeks pregnant.

"They lied to her," Candace says later. She explains that the pro-life clinic will tell girls they are not as far as they actually are, so they think they have enough time to think it over. By the time the girls decide to go through with an abortion, it's too late and they're too far along.

The reason this documentary infuriates me so much is that this is even an issue. It's 2013 and there is still a debate over a woman's right to choose. Why are women still getting shit over what they do to their bodies? You don't like abortion? Don't get one. Just like how if you don't like tattoos, don't get one - you don't have a right to not get a tattoo. No matter what happens, people are always going to protest, just like how currently people are tearing their hair out about DOMA being shot down. What I don't like is how people choose to verbally attack these women and then use religion as their shield. Religion is a great thing, I have religion. It's okay to not have religion. But don't use it as an excuse for your ignorance.

I can't say I enjoyed 12th & Delaware, just like you can't enjoy a root canal or paying bills. But it was a very interesting documentary about how two sides of the same old debate are never going to see eye-to-eye.