Written by Andreas Babiolakis

During the awards season, I will be covering films that are a part of the discussion that have been out for a while.

The history of the prison uprising of the Attica Correctional Facility is still being told, and it is just as important to hear about fifty years later. In this latest recount aptly titled Attica — directed by Traci Curry and Stanley Nelson — we have the gifts of recovered archival footage to go off of, thus proving that the art of documentary filmmaking (whilst forever evolving) will always provide important viewpoints at any given time. Granted, some elements of the film feel like they are adhering to the testimonies provided rather than the bigger picture, but I feel like Attica isn’t trying to explain the whole ordeal of one of the biggest events in contemporary American history. It instead is using its footage to back in the voices being heard, and it’s something that I think provides Attica its identity – for better or for worse. If we have some of this footage, why not experience it as much as possible? Isn’t this a breakthrough in and of itself?

Nonetheless, there were priorities made, and, in ways, Attica really works well on other levels. Which are these voices that we have throughout the picture? Former inmates, predominantly persons of colour, finally can be heard without being silenced. To hear their sides of the biggest prison uprising in American history really is something to behold. In ways, the use of archival, resurrected footage is something I wish that went the distance, but there also just isn’t enough that can compete with memories that are impossible to fade: at times, it feels like we’re experiencing the slow buildup of tension and angst without even being there. This is valuable enough to make Attica at least a powerful watch. It’s impossible not to feel visceral levels of anger when you hear the recounts of how things unfurled, and how so much of this was preventable. Discussing how prisons should be run is a massive grey area I am more than willing to avoid, but I can safely say that treating people brutally is criminal. Attica is two hours’ worth of hearing the viewpoint of those at the hands of oppressors, and it is incredibly difficult to witness at points.

I also can’t help but wonder what the film would have looked like had more of the prison guards and personnel been interviewed for this. I feel like the fullest picture of such an event is to get as many sides as possible. I can’t help but think of something like Shoah that is so damn long because it refused to settle for as few sides as possible. If anything, had these interviews proven what Attica was aiming for (with evidence of a lack of care or empathy from these guards), it would only greatly strengthen what we have here. Otherwise, I also like documentaries that allow us to assess our own conclusions; whilst I most definitely would be on the side of those interviewed (and I can’t see that changing), I also love when political documentaries place me in areas where I have to cut myself out of the thick of it and figure out where exactly I fall. Attica is one side of the story. Granted, it was the side that has been neglected and silenced for decades, and I think it needs to exist for that reason alone. Regardless of your own personal alignment, Attica is the cherishing of resilience and the demand for urgent reassessments of how power is used over others far too often, and its spine tingling recollections will leave you pondering about the film and the history behind it for long after.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.