Directed By Garrett Bradley

Starring – Rob Rich II, Fox Rich, Freedom Rich

The Plot – Fox Rich is a fighter. The entrepreneur, abolitionist and mother of six boys has spent the last two decades campaigning for the release of her husband, Rob G. Rich, who is serving a 60-year sentence for a robbery they both committed in the early 90s in a moment of desperation. Combining the video diaries Fox has recorded for Rob over the years with intimate glimpses of her present-day life, director Garrett Bradley paints a mesmerizing portrait of the resilience and radical love necessary to prevail over the endless separation of the country’s prison-industrial complex.

Rated PG-13 for some strong adult language

POSITIVES

– Titular meaning. In naming this documentary “Time”, it strips down everything unique about Rob’s dreaded disposition, and defines it in a way that is universally common for people of all walks of life. Through a series of narrations read from various people throughout the film, we come to comprehend time as this monumental construct that bends and expands during the moments of life that truly define us. For the Rich family, it’s the way its terrifying clutches have shaped and expanded reality in a way that has evolved each of them into various embodiments a lot quicker than perhaps the parallel dimension where this family still lives and experiences life together. Internally, they are continuously stuck in this place in time that has taken so much from them, but externally each of them continue to age and grow in ways that contradicts the former, giving way to a physical change that still persists despite a frame of mind that is continuously sedated. It’s an insurmountable adversity that only grows because of the way it plays into the psychology of its captives, and gives us a one noun summary that is very much a person, place, and thing opposing the promiscuity of this family’s situation.

– Originalities. There’s certainly no shortage of films documenting the abuse and mental anguish of the American prison system, but “Time’s” approach is one of unique circumstance, in that it’s told entirely by those forced to endure outside of the bars of confinement. This not only gives the story a fresh take through three different generations of Fox family members giving their perspectives, but also articulates that the hurt of a bad decision spans much further than just that of the person behind bars. It brought with it a barrage of emotions in a barely 80 minute sitting that movies nearly twice that long can’t muster up, and proves all the more urgent in its vulnerability when you consider that these are real people living through the real consequences of growing and evolving without doing so together.

– Obscured editing. That may sound like a negative, but the frequent jumping of time, forward and back, creates an intentional distortion that rubs time together, synergizing it with this full circle dissection that always brings things back to the beginning. This is seen most evidently through a final sequence which visually rewinds the actions in the familiar scenes before our very eyes, but aside from that harvests an overall structure in storytelling that continuously revolves around that one fateful day where everything changed forever. It speaks volumes to the barrage of thoughts and memories that live internally at any given time, conjuring up a link between presentation and personal that gives us a psychological vantage point ahead of the unfolding narrative.

– A woman’s will. The biggest and most rewarding transformation is easily that of Fox, who goes from a timid embodiment of emotional despair to an iron-bred beacon of strength and perseverance. Tasked with bringing along the lives of six beautiful children, Fox’s determination provides her with the ultimate strength that never subdues throughout her trials and tribulations with the American justice system, etching out a protagonist who is a magnet for audience empathy for the level of success she has attained on her own. Films like this speak volumes to the hell a scorned woman can unleash on anything standing in front of her, yet there’s nothing about Fox’s demeanor or course of action that ever feels boisterous or unjustified. Instead, it’s her calm under the storm of adversity that earned her strong admiration from this critic, and illustrated a transformation that never lost hope despite the diminishing odds of her husband’s predicament.

– Colorless presentation. It’s obvious what Bradley is going for here; the blurred line between justice and freedom, which isn’t just defined with shades of black and white, but with this level of grey lacking consistency and clarity. Obvious? Sure, but effective none the less, and a visual scheme that equally conveys this feeling of incomplete because of the absence of the pivotal piece missing from the circumstance that makes each member of this family whole. Despite the colorless hue, the movie never lacks beauty between its dual dimensions of home video and digital presentations, solidifying a style within its memories that are these frozen abstracts of emotional resonance, all the while articulating the sense of technological evolution that has sprung throughout the course of Rob’s twenty-one year plus span incarcerated.

– Purposeful narration. Once again, this is an exceptional example of audible vocal accompaniment that speaks louder than what could solely be interpreted from the imagery in frame. With Fox’s case, you come to understand that her level of control in front of both the camera and her children isn’t even half of the volcanic unease that residing inside is quite nearly tearing her apart. In these instances, it’s great to have an ear inside because it covers more of the sentiments and longing than a camera could ever have access to, and in addition to Fox, gives us many delves into the mind of her mother and her children. The movie doesn’t rest on the laurels of its narration, nor does it ever have an obviously echoing feeling for what is being portrayed in frame, instead appearing sporadically when the narrative absolutely requires it, dispersing no shortage of emotional clarity along the way.

– Brilliant mixing. This is for the enticing sound designs, which could prove a frustrating challenge for some people with regard to registering what is being said, but remained an untouched masterpiece for a guy like me who values authenticity of environmental aspects. The entrancingly never-ending musical score from Edwin Montgomery and Jamieson Shaw serenades our senses with a volume control over the unfolding narrative that never oversteps its boundaries, adding an echoing effect to immerse itself ever so brilliantly to the context of the scene. The dialogue of the home video footage also remains entirely untouched, leaving in elements of music, television sets, and other characters yelling to soak up as much about the moment that the microphone picks up on. A lesser production would try to rid itself of as many of these elements as humanly possible, but the production stays firm in its immersive qualities, and transcends itself of the screen encompassing for a slice of life with frequent reminder.

– No sides. What I love about the amount of information dispersed throughout the narrative is this unjustifiable commentary in the movie’s opinion about Rob and Fox, and the crimes they committed. This means that the screenplay instead lays all of the information out for the audience, and lets them choose, even if it doesn’t feel like it cares about that circumstance to begin with. In speaking to a room of people to hear her speak, Fox conveys displeasure in the recklessness of her youth, but maintains this level of maturity that has come with her beneficial freedom along the way. Like anyone who has made a bad decision in their lives, there’s bound to be an element of regret that comes with it, but Fox’s storytelling seems to allude to the means justifying the ends at the time, balancing this complex juxtaposition of moral clarity that plays into the shade of grey that I previously mentioned.

– Socially provocative. Like most documentaries, this one has no shortage of stimulating social commentary and moral dilemma’s within the American judicial system that will bring debates long after the film concludes. For me, it’s consequence that stemmed from a non-murder, non-violent robbery for Rob, which resulted in a possible sixty year sentence. Even for an outdated law within the book of the state, this is heavily overboard on what justifies the length of such a crime. Aside from this, the lack of communication between families and social workers of the state leaves slightly more to be desired, especially considering the latter is dealing with these frail relatives whose only demand is an element of compassion to satisfy their curiosities. One such scene leads to Fox’s only emotional eruption throughout the film, but one that I can detect through the lack of answers that stems from her repeatedly seeking assistance. “Time” is just the latest in a series of documentaries that cement how outdated the idea of prison reform is, and before we can evolve as a society, we must learn from such idiocracies.

– Complete satisfaction. Documentaries rarely end with a sense of finality to their narratives, often focusing on a story too big and never-ending to attain resolution for the audience it entices. That isn’t the case with “Time”, however, as the narrative attains this complete level of storytelling, for better or worse, that resides in the single most moving sequence of 2020 in the film’s final five minutes. This is a sequence that attains a level of spirituality for something so easy to attain in minimal post production effects work, but one so poetically beautiful for the concept of regret, and what that could visually look like if given the rare chance to conquer it.

My Grade: 10/10 or A+