What I can speak about with great enthusiasm are two excellent documentaries that were part of the festival but not included in the main slate: one about perhaps the greatest filmmaker of them all, Ingmar Bergman; the other about the extraordinary earliest woman director, Alice Guy-Blache.
I found reading “Fear” to be especially painful. There were times I had to force myself to read more. It was much like watching a most terrifying movie, knowing the maniac is poised to strike at any moment. He could be behind the bathroom door or the living room couch with an axe or a chainsaw. Escape seems impossible.
I wish that the dignity and credibility Cronkite brought to the evening news would reappear.
I, for one, am extremely grateful that Wolff managed to survive the mental torture that is apparently the way of the current White House. A lesser man or woman would have thrown his notebook to the floor and run to the hills after the first day.
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