The passing of Frederick Wiseman, a true master of documentary filmmaking, leaves a profound impact on the world of cinema. At 96, Wiseman's legacy is a testament to his unwavering dedication to capturing the extraordinary within the ordinary.
His journey began in the mid-1960s, and over five decades, he crafted nearly 50 documentaries, each a window into the inner workings of everyday institutions. From the Idaho state legislature to the New York Public Library, and even a high school in Philadelphia, Wiseman's lens brought to life the surreal and the mundane with equal measure.
"I wish I could be more like him," said Errol Morris, an Oscar-winning documentarian and a friend of Wiseman's. Morris admired Wiseman's unique ability to find the absurd and surreal in reality, comparing his work to the Theater of the Absurd. Wiseman's influence extended beyond filmmaking; he also directed plays by renowned playwrights like Samuel Beckett and Luigi Pirandello.
One of Wiseman's most memorable scenes, according to Morris, is from his 1993 documentary Zoo. It depicts an all-female surgical team castrating a wolf at the Miami zoo, with a male janitor nervously watching from the sidelines, hands folded over his crotch. This scene, Morris believes, is a perfect example of Wiseman's talent for uncovering the bizarre within the everyday.
Wiseman's impact on Morris was profound. After losing his father and brother to heart disease, Morris credits Wiseman with saving his life by arranging medical help. Their friendship and mentorship extended beyond the film industry.
Born in Boston in 1930, Wiseman's life took him from serving in the U.S. Army during the Korean War to living in Paris in the 1950s, and eventually teaching law at Boston University. It was a field trip to Bridgewater State Hospital, a prison facility for the criminally insane, that inspired Wiseman to direct his first and most famous film, Titicut Follies.
Titicut Follies, made in 1967, exposed the appalling conditions inmates endured, with scenes of bullying, force feeding, and strip searches. The film's opening belied its shocking content, and the state of Massachusetts successfully banned it from public screenings for over two decades.
"For years, you had to sign a declaration stating you were a professional in criminology, law, or film studies to watch the film," said Barry Keith Grant, a film scholar and author of Voyages of Discovery: The Cinema of Frederick Wiseman. Despite the ban, the film cemented Wiseman's reputation and established his career.
Wiseman's meticulous approach to filmmaking was legendary. He directed, produced, and edited his own movies, a hands-on process that resulted in films of prodigious length, some running up to six hours. He refused to compromise on length, believing that interested viewers would watch regardless of the duration.
In a 2014 interview with NPR, Wiseman described the process of making National Gallery, his documentary about the famed London art museum. He spent three months shooting, twelve hours a day, six days a week, amassing 170 hours of footage. The ratio of filmed material to the final cut was an astonishing 60 to one.
Frederick Wiseman's passing marks the end of an era, but his impact on documentary filmmaking and his unique perspective on everyday life will continue to inspire and influence generations of filmmakers.
