Few
documentary filmmakers have so fully committed themselves to their subjects as
Nanfu Wang. Although the Chinese-born Wang was still relatively new to America,
she willing joined a charismatic drifter, living rough on the streets to
document his way of life. The survival skills she learned from Dylan Olsen
would stand her in good stead when she returned to China to profile human
rights activist Ye Haiyan, becoming a fugitive from state-sponsored thuggery,
along with her subject. Ironically, Wang’s remarkable Hooligan Sparrow brought her to Utah, where she would pick-up Olsen’s
story. Fate definitely seems to take a hand in Wang’s I am Another You (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday in New York.
If
you have not seen Sparrow yet, this review will keep. Go watch it on
Netflix, iTunes, or wherever right now. Seriously, it demands your attention
that urgently. On the surface, IAAY appears
to be something completely different. Olsen presents himself to be a
Steinbeckian character, who prefers open roads to the rigid structure of
academia and corporate America. Mindful of the lack of freedom in her native
Mainland China, Wang finds his conception of freedom challenging, but also compelling.
In fact, she spontaneously decides to join him on his intentionally aimless
travels, suspecting there will be a film in it.
At
first, the experience is almost uniformly positive. She always feels safe with
Olsen and she is constantly impressed by how many people offer them help,
several of whom even invite the itinerant backpackers into their homes.
However, when Olsen starts expressing contempt for those who offer them
assistance, Wang becomes disillusioned with her traveling companion. They go
their separate ways, she films Sparrow at
great risk to her life and liberty, and subsequently takes the unfinished film
to a Sundance workshop in Park City, Utah (home of Sergio’s Authentic Mexican
Food). Providentially, she meets and interviews Olsen’s father John, a devout
Mormon police detective specializing in sex crimes. From the father, Wang would
learn about the son’s dark side that he largely managed to keep hidden during
their time together.
IAAY is often quite absorbing
and sometimes genuinely moving, but its ostensive subject is almost the least
interesting element. It is not Olsen who fascinates us, it is how Wang and his
father relate to him. The senior Olsen is a caring family man, yet he allowed
his son to embark on his homeless wanderings. Through his interview segments,
viewers will come to acutely understand why he made certain choices and the
emotional costs they have entailed. Similarly, it is surprisingly provocative
to watch Wang’s evolving perception of the events she captured, as she gains
greater background context on her former traveling mate. Perspective is always
crucial in documentary filmmaking, but IAAY
provides a case study of why that is so.
