spoke digital films

This is the week of the Nashville Film Festival, and I’m glad to say that close to half of the feature programming is made up of documentaries. I was able to catch one of the two screenings of At the Death House Door, the new documentary by Steve James and Peter Gilbert (directors of Hoop Dreams among many other great films). This quietly engaging film chronicles a retired Texas pastor who worked as a prison chaplain for fifteen years. Part of Pastor Pickett’s job was to counsel convicts on Death Row, though his responsibilities went further than that. One of Pickett’s duties was to counsel the men on the days leading up to their execution and make certain they wouldn’t fight as they were led to the gurney to be strapped down for lethal injection. He did this for ninety-five inmates during his fifteen year tenure. The pastor makes clear that this had a profound effect on him, and interviews with his family members further reinforce that notion.

The death penalty is the ever-present subtext to the film, but it remains in the back seat as the directors keep most of their focus on the aging pastor. Two death penalty cases are featured in some detail, however. One involves the killing of two women who were members of Pastor Pickett’s congregation at a prior church. Another involves the case of an executed convict named Carlos De Luna, who many believe was innocent due to a great deal of evidence in favor of that conclusion. De Luna’s case was deeply troubling to the pastor, and he eventually meets the executed man’s sister, who is also haunted by her brother’s execution. The filmmakers never try to push any agenda about capital punishment, but the subjects of their film grapple with the issue in the most intimate and nuanced manner. This is the brilliance and beauty of a difficult and moving film.

After each of the ninety-five executions for which Pastor Pickett counseled the convicts, he recorded an audio cassette of his feelings and recollections. Much of the film takes place in the Pastor’s office as he plays the tapes and reacquaints himself with his thoughts from years past. It is incredibly intimate, but the filmmakers have a delicate touch regarding how intrusive they become. Sometimes a few seconds of a wistful look is all that is needed to communicate volumes about the pastor’s conflicted feelings.

The film is also beautifully shot, evidence of people in full control of their craft. Many of the executions discussed in the film took place at midnight. A large clock dominated the center of the prison facade at the “Walls” prison in Huntsville, Texas where Pastor Pickett worked. The shots of that backlit clock against a dark midnight sky remain with me more than any other imagery. Within the emotional context of the film, that solemn, simple image said so much more than any hour of dialogue could have hoped to offer.

I don’t yet know the distribution plans for the film, but go here for more information: www.ifc.com/atthedeathhousedoor