At over three hours, this is an epic film. It has to be because it's about an epic institution: the New York Public Library, its history, its management, its multiple branches, its global city mission, its changing nature.
As usual, director Frederick Wiseman moves silently, invisibly, unobtrusively, through his subject institution. He doesn't intrude, but lets what he finds in sound and image reveal his message. Of course, a documentary is as calculated an arrangement of materials designed to make the director's point as any fiction is.
But Wiseman doesn't interfere. He doesn't even make cuts within a scene or a speech. He lets the material reveal itself — though he has chosen what material to show, what message will be revealed.
The frequent committee meetings make this film equally about the richness of the Library's offerings and the challenges of its governance. The Board has to work for the public's support, convince both its public and private funders to meet its needs, and balance the demands of the traditional needs with the new.
Indeed, in this Library, a massive institute with responsibility for a dramatically diverse community, Wiseman finds a microcosm of America itself. Hardly any of the speakers are identified because the film is not really about them but about the institution they serve — and the national culture it represents.
For the federal government has the same responsibilities of meeting the citizens' needs and generating the income to do so. But where Trump "loves the poorly educated" — to the point of trying to convert all Americans to that — the Library loves all its citizens — to the point of wanting to improve all their lives.
As the studies of the users' faces reveals, the Library serves America's diversity in culture, economic class, education level, and needs. The Chinatown branch provides materials in Chinese to serve that culture and English materials to ease their assimilation. The Braille branch tapes books and teaches the blind to read.
In all the branches the Library works to bring the citizens into the computer age. The Westchester branch teach kids robotics.
The Bronx audience at a modern wind quartet is largely working class or unemployed, street people. The programming is not what we'd expect. Some sleep, some are simply staying warm, one woman mimes a singalong, but for each person there the music is doing some service.
In the Harlem branch an impassioned poet's recital is punctuated by a baby's cries in the audience. That's life, which the artist must accommodate. So does the Library; so should the government.
Bu the Republican government isn't. Time and again the speakers express a tacit resistance to the Trump administration. At a job fair, a border guard reads a statement about his job and its importance. He lacks the sincerity and warmth of the others who speak from their heart.
As one speaker asserts, the library is no longer about books; it's about people. That's what the government has forgotten: it thinks it's about things, about securing personal profits, not about the citizens it is supposed to be serving.
In a forceful correction to Trump, the Muslim director of the Schoenberg Institute cites the line, "The library is the pillar of democracy." In fact Muslims appear throughout the film as helpful Library stuff or citizens with the same earnest needs and care as their paler citizens. A Jewish author celebrates the Jewish immigrants and their deli tradition. This is melting pot America not our current racist paranoia.
Wiseman's Library reminds us where America's greatness lies — in welcoming citizens from around the world and enabling them to make the best lives for themselves that they can. Among the most powerful correctives to current America are the speeches about the African American experience, the revival of racism, and the failure of modern capitalism to provide a fair and equal distribution of wealth.
There's a lot of talk here, but it's important talk, the kind of thoughtful, articulate and constructive debate that's beyond the skill and ethics of current politics. That the Library provides the arena and the thinkers and the audience for such discussion makes it of epic importance to our future. If this New York can't save America what will?
As usual, director Frederick Wiseman moves silently, invisibly, unobtrusively, through his subject institution. He doesn't intrude, but lets what he finds in sound and image reveal his message. Of course, a documentary is as calculated an arrangement of materials designed to make the director's point as any fiction is.
But Wiseman doesn't interfere. He doesn't even make cuts within a scene or a speech. He lets the material reveal itself — though he has chosen what material to show, what message will be revealed.
The frequent committee meetings make this film equally about the richness of the Library's offerings and the challenges of its governance. The Board has to work for the public's support, convince both its public and private funders to meet its needs, and balance the demands of the traditional needs with the new.
Indeed, in this Library, a massive institute with responsibility for a dramatically diverse community, Wiseman finds a microcosm of America itself. Hardly any of the speakers are identified because the film is not really about them but about the institution they serve — and the national culture it represents.
For the federal government has the same responsibilities of meeting the citizens' needs and generating the income to do so. But where Trump "loves the poorly educated" — to the point of trying to convert all Americans to that — the Library loves all its citizens — to the point of wanting to improve all their lives.
As the studies of the users' faces reveals, the Library serves America's diversity in culture, economic class, education level, and needs. The Chinatown branch provides materials in Chinese to serve that culture and English materials to ease their assimilation. The Braille branch tapes books and teaches the blind to read.
In all the branches the Library works to bring the citizens into the computer age. The Westchester branch teach kids robotics.
The Bronx audience at a modern wind quartet is largely working class or unemployed, street people. The programming is not what we'd expect. Some sleep, some are simply staying warm, one woman mimes a singalong, but for each person there the music is doing some service.
In the Harlem branch an impassioned poet's recital is punctuated by a baby's cries in the audience. That's life, which the artist must accommodate. So does the Library; so should the government.
Bu the Republican government isn't. Time and again the speakers express a tacit resistance to the Trump administration. At a job fair, a border guard reads a statement about his job and its importance. He lacks the sincerity and warmth of the others who speak from their heart.
As one speaker asserts, the library is no longer about books; it's about people. That's what the government has forgotten: it thinks it's about things, about securing personal profits, not about the citizens it is supposed to be serving.
In a forceful correction to Trump, the Muslim director of the Schoenberg Institute cites the line, "The library is the pillar of democracy." In fact Muslims appear throughout the film as helpful Library stuff or citizens with the same earnest needs and care as their paler citizens. A Jewish author celebrates the Jewish immigrants and their deli tradition. This is melting pot America not our current racist paranoia.
Wiseman's Library reminds us where America's greatness lies — in welcoming citizens from around the world and enabling them to make the best lives for themselves that they can. Among the most powerful correctives to current America are the speeches about the African American experience, the revival of racism, and the failure of modern capitalism to provide a fair and equal distribution of wealth.
There's a lot of talk here, but it's important talk, the kind of thoughtful, articulate and constructive debate that's beyond the skill and ethics of current politics. That the Library provides the arena and the thinkers and the audience for such discussion makes it of epic importance to our future. If this New York can't save America what will?
