The Nine Lives Of Marion Barry @ SILVERDOCS
Huge lines wound around the AFI Silver Theatre on the Closing Night of SILVERDOCS with people -- old, young, black, white, east and west of the river -- all pondering the same general question.
Just who is Marion Barry?
No, I mean, really: besides the Mayor-For-Life, the City Councilman, the man who coined "bitch set me up" for a generation of cheap laughs, the dashiki-clad firebrand, the convicted felon, the so-called "moral politician," the addict, the civil rights hero, the Washingtonian symbol for better and worse, the tax evader, the kidney transplant recipient, the man who's seemingly never lost an election in which he was running and the general larger-than-life symbol that he is.
Between all that, just who is Marion Barry?
That existential question is the driving force behind Dana Flor and Toby Oppenheimer's The Nine Lives Of Marion Barry, the world premiere of which closed another successful SILVERDOCS festival on Saturday evening. Flor and Oppenheimer are two D.C. natives who, like most of us, found themselves inseparably attracted to the moves of Mr. Barry, regardless of how deplorable some find his faults to be.
"We wanted to explore what made [Barry] such a fascinating story," said Oppenheimer after the screening.
Well, if anything, his proclivity for being in the public eye doesn't hurt. Despite his ongoing health concerns, Barry confidently strutted the press line, greeting and kissing numerous people, saying hello to local figures in attendance like former Councilwoman Carol Schwartz -- and in true Barry style, posting next to the marquee poster with that smug look we all know so well.
If one left with anything from the film aside from what they brought, it's this: like any mythic figure, even though we know seemingly everything about Barry, there's always more behind the curtain. Flor and Oppenheimer try their damnedest through 78 minutes of archival footage, interviews with colleagues, media, supporters and detractors, and the people of Ward 8 -- just as important a figure in the life of Barry as anyone who can walk and talk about his life -- to narrow it down for the audience.
Nine Lives frames a linear retelling of Barry's life in politics with his return to the fray during the 2004 City Council campaign -- spending significant screen time with one of his 2004 opponents and virulent anti-Barry candidate Sandra Seegars -- and splicing views on modern-day Washington with those of pre-Home Rule D.C. Sure enough, it is a documentary just as much about the District as it is about Barry -- but of course, as the two are interminably linked, like it or not.
"[The film] is the story about the man, and the subplot of the city," said Flor.
The filmmakers do an admirable job; attempting to deconstruct Barry is an elephantine task, and the film, as any good documentary will do, answers some questions but offers up others -- for instance, about Barry's godson, who openly questions his godfather's addictions and represents the questions that Marion Barry presents as a man in power who has very quantifiable addictions.
In the end, though, "the man" addressed the cinema to rousing applause after the screening, offering up his take on the media ("[they] think I'm a monster"), but also his thoughts on the movie itself.
"This is a personal story about struggle, and redemption, and triumphs and tragedies," said Barry. "Everyone in America has had those."
A Washingtonian Everyman? Yes, perhaps that who Marion Barry is, after all.
The Nine Lives Of Marion Barry can next be seen on HBO, airing August 10 at 9 p.m.