All the Beauty and the Bloodshed

As a person who's generally really interested in drug related documentary, this was probably the worst two hours of my life spent. The whole document begun by introducing a whole bunch of people that were close to Nan, but it didn't quite deliver their story strong enough for me to form any kind of opinion or picture about these people. About 80% of the document was presented with slides of photos, sometimes relevant to the narrative, other times just to fill in the otherwise blank screen I feel like. It was a real struggle to keep focused and interested in this. There were hardly enough takes discussing or depicting the Oxycontin crisis and instead, things about Nan Goldin's life, which had been awful, but the delivery of the whole story is sub par and fails to connect to the viewer. I've seen far better documentaries from topics far less interesting or important, which forces unfortunately forces me to leave a quite generous rating of two out of ten for this one. I would only suggest this, if you fancy Nan Goldin as a public figure or as a person, but if you are more interested in the whole Oxycontin crisis, how it all started, what it was like to get sucked in to this horrific circle of opioids and what it ultimately took - just skip this movie, as it provides little to no context or insight to the subject.

This didn't work for me: Not enough information on the Opioid industry and the 'evil' Sackler family and far too much information on Nan Goldin and her life and career as an artist, which is fine if the intention was for this to be a biographical monograph on the photographer, but frankly I didn't find her life as interesting as she does and all the endless snapshots of her friends were such a bore. What's very importantly missing here are a few Science heads to tell us why Oxycontin is so highly addictive and the dangers involved in prescribing it; What are the correlations of it leading to harder drugs? What methods were used to get doctors to prescribe it? Some statistics on how widespread the epidemic is, etc, etc, etc. Instead we are presented with details of Nan Goldin's love life and personal relationships and her world in the NYC art scene. It would have been nice to hear from a few museum and institution heads as to what these Sackler donations actually mean to them. I just felt the whole issue was unfocused and over-clouded by what seemed like a biographical, promotional film on the artist. Like a lot of celebrity activism it seemed simplistic and showy. I left the theatre feeling disappointed that this was a bit of a bait and switch documentary and for some inexplicable reason it reminded me of a neighbour who is always so insistent on showing me photographs of her pet dogs, present and past... some even from her childhood.

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source: All the Beauty and the Bloodshed

All the Beauty and the Bloodshed can join Fire of Love in the club of Oscar-nominated documentaries from 2022 that would have been more worthy winners than Navalny. It's admittedly a small club, but I feel like both of those movies have moments that demonstrate documentary filmmaking at its best. In the case of All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, it's probably the final 15-20 minutes that shines the brightest. It can be a slow and somewhat uneven feeling documentary at some points, but it builds to some phenomenal and emotionally hard hitting final scenes. The rest of the documentary still tends to hit far more often than it misses, but I did get the sense it may have been a tiny bit too long, and while I respect the choice not to tie together its two primary narratives more explicitly, part of me was waiting for them to collide more directly at a point. Still, leaving some of that up to the viewer felt like a deliberate choice, and I can respect that. It follows Nan Goldin, with the film both recounting her life story from the 1950s to the 1990s and detailing her activism against the Sackler family and their role in the opioid epidemic in the 2010s. The latter might be more interesting narratively, but the former has the more interesting presentation, seeing as Goldin's an accomplished artist/photographer, and the documentary frequently relies on her work to serve as visuals. It's a heavy and often sad documentary, dealing with mental illness, addiction, corruption, censorship, the AIDS crisis, discrimination, and domestic violence. It might be upsetting to some viewers as a result, but I think it was best not to pull punches (so long as people know what they're in for before deciding to watch it). It's a largely powerful documentary that I think will stick with me. Not perfect, but it has some amazing sequences that were very striking and moving.

I have no doubt that the Sacklers are the monsters that the protagonists say they are. I also have no doubt that the Sacklers would do it all again, if they weren't in prison. But the Sacklers are not the reason Nan (or anyone else) got addicted. The people who got addicted made the decision to keep taking drugs when they no longer needed them. The problem is the addict. Blame shifting about opioids has been great for politicians (and promoters like Nan) but it hasn't been great for opiate manufacturing, doctors or patients in pain. They have been denied appropriate levels of pain relief because the Sacklers were greedy, but because the addicts were even greedier. When a film maker obscures a truth like that, it says the film maker is too self absorbed to see anyone else's point of view. And that ruined this documentary for me. Too self indulgent. Too whiny.

The movie "All the beauty and the bloodshed" is a beautiful documentary that covers two aspects of the life of the American photographer Nan Goldin. Her fight against the Sackler/Purdue pharmaceutical empire, the creator of OxyContin that triggered the opioid crisis, and also her journey of sexual freedom, drugs, and rock'n'roll spanning from the 70s until 2000. Once again, experienced director Laura Poitras sensitively captures Nan's struggle with psychological survival, drug abuse, and determination to fight against the companies that influenced her drug addiction and the deaths of over 400K people. And we follow Nan's journey only through her photography lens. It's simply touching to witness her passing through the AIDS epidemic, the loss of her older sister to suicide, and the opium epidemic. Nan's spirit life without judgment or traditionalism is very inspired.

All the Beauties and Bloodshed This documentary uses a large number of slides to create a dreamlike American past, a memory of childhood, friendship, love and the accompanying crisis, a sister who committed suicide, and violence. Tendency boyfriend, and a spiritual suppression of AIDS homosexuals in the last century, but as the story continues to deepen, the director uses superb means to bring the audience into that period of glory days full of sorrow, each from Nan goldin work became a gift to commemorate that time. And now the protest against addictive drug companies seems to have become a supporting role in this film, and it seems that the essence of the documentary is a bit simple, but Nan Goldin herself, who protested in the museum, seems to remind me of that scene decades ago. The one who is brave enough to face herself.

You would think, as an enterpreneur who had created/developed this product, as you saw that it was contributing to 100s of thousands of deaths throughout the world, you would attempt to do something, anything, to reign in the misuse and misapplication of the product. Maybe you would put some money into combatting the misuse and consequences of misuse, of your product. But no, the family put money, lots of it, into entertainment for the wealthy, the educated, the priviliged few who attend the Louvre, the Met, the Guggenheim, etc. After all, they believed "no one is forcing them to misuse our product". The film is powerful. It shows the power of people who come together to fight evil and apathy, in spite of themselves. I enjoyed the film and I would have joined them on their march for justice.

Have you ever watched a movie that feels like it could readily be split into two separate pictures? Such is the case - and the problem - with this latest offering from documentarian Laura Poitras. The film's dual tracks showcase (1) the campaigns of the activist group P. A. I. N. (Prescription Addiction Intervention Now) formed by artist/photographer Nan Goldin to expose the greed-mongering atrocities of Purdue Pharma, manufacturer of the highly addictive opioid painkiller OxyContin, and the Sackler family, the principals behind this organization, and (2) the life, career and addiction struggle of the artist herself. In particular, the film follows P. A. I. N.'s activities to protest the Sacklers' efforts to deflect attention away from their nefarious behavior by making huge donations to the arts community (including many notable museums) by staging highly vocal, highly visible demonstrations at those facilities to draw attention to this issue, particularly the mounting number of deaths that have resulted from addiction to this prescription drug. Simultaneously, the documentary charts Goldin's journey through her colorful, prolific and high-profile career, which eventually led to a period of addiction (whose origins are never really made clear) that nearly killed her. While each of these narrative tracks is explored capably in themselves, they never quite mesh into a complete, coherent whole. Goldin's struggle with the opioid serves as an anemic lynchpin that attempts to connect these two story threads. But the central nexus isn't strong enough to link them effectively, each of which individually could have served as the bases for films all unto themselves - and that ultimately would have each been more engaging and compelling than this underdeveloped hybrid product, which often feels like it's stretching to find its true footing. The work of P. A. I. N. is arguably the stronger of the two stories, and focusing on that aspect of the story by itself would have made for a better and much more impactful picture. Unfortunately, that's not how matters play out, a disappointment given that it deals with such an important subject. Providing the proper focus for her projects seems to be an ongoing issue for the filmmaker, one that previously became apparent in her award-winning but underwhelming real-time documentary "Citizenfour" (2014) about the revelations of Edward Snowden, a shortcoming that, regrettably, has been repeated here. I find that frustrating, especially since this meandering offering, like its predecessor, has been showered with considerable undeserved praise, including an Oscar nomination for best documentary feature. Poitras clearly has a lot to say, but it's unfortunate that she has still yet to figure out how to say it more effectively than she does.