recy taylor is still alive

(TW: rape)

every year, i say i'm going to be better about planning my chicago international film fest schedule, and every year, the fest sneaks up on me and i feel like i have to scramble to get tickets for the films i really want to see.

"the rape of recy taylor" was one of the films on my list for this year. i no longer remember who recommended "at the dark end of the street" to me, but i remember reading it and being fascinated. here was rosa parks, years before the bus boycott, working to help fellow black women get justice in an environment that couldn't even fathom such a thing for such a people. and here was recy, daring to stand up and speak up about what had happened to her, consequences be damned.

needless to say, i was in tears within the first 10 minutes of the movie. sadness, yes, but also anger. knowing that so many of us are still dealing with and healing from all kinds of trauma. that shit like this still happens with what feels like impunity. that no one believes us when we say "this is a thing that happened to me." i caught myself on the verge of kicking the chair in front of me, which i hadn't done since i watched "fruitvale station" in the theater and cried so much that i gave myself a migraine.

but then.

y'all.

recy taylor is still alive.

at the end of the film, we see and hear from recy directly and i am getting weepy just typing about it right now. i remember thinking to myself that i'd just managed to pull it together and then recy comes on screen and holy waterworks, batman. i apparently had cried so much during the movie that, on our way out, a woman nearby asked if i was going to be ok. i'm sure my eyes were red and my face was all blotchy. i wound up taking a lyft home from the theater because i was emotionally drained and i wasn't sure i could make it home on public transit. i think i wound up going to bed insanely early that night, too.

worth it, though.

and then this piece from bitch landed in my inbox this morning. i saw "marshall" (for free!) a week before it opened in theaters, thanks to a screening hosted by my employer, and a lot of the thoughts/feelings i had about the movie are addressed in that essay.

this is what happens when you read a lot, i suppose. at the "marshall" screening, i was surrounded by people who admitted that they didn't know much about thurgood marshall. i was at an advantage because i'd read this biography which, if memory serves, mentions the case that the movie focuses on. i could totally be wrong about that, but i remember watching the movie in a "well, of course this is what happens" kind of way. people left the screening waxing poetic about how much they'd learned and i felt like maybe i wasn't the target demographic for the movie, lol. absurd, of course, given that the director and producer were in my employer's nyc office urging all of us to take our book clubs and sororities and church groups and families and friends to see the movie when it opened. (i didn't, obviously. my review can be summed up like this: i'm glad i saw it for free.)

i suppose this could be chalked up to the difference between a documentary and a mainstream feature, maybe. that maybe there's more room in documentaries to flesh out stories that need to be told, even if your audience has read or is at least familiar with the source material.

speaking of documentaries: please plan on watching "sighted eyes/feeling heart" when it airs on pbs next year. i've seen three movies at the international film festival and this lorraine hansberry doc is my favorite so far. also i realized that i still get emotional when i see ruby dee and/or ossie davis on screen. sigh.