Obit (***1/2)

In a small corner in the New York Times building sits a handful of journalists who have the distinction of writing the obituary sections. They are in many ways the black sheep of journalists, seemingly banished to this desolate section of reporting with no claims to fame or fortune. OBIT is a good documentary in that it shines a light on this career path that few (if any) have ever given serious thought to. If only the movie could have figured out what it wanted to say.

The documentary is a charming little piece that analyzes a few days in the lives of this team of misfits. Unlike the traditional obituaries you might find in your local paper ("Jane Doe passed away peacefully to the Lord leaving behind her daughter and three grandchildren..."), these are journalists who take their jobs very seriously, oftentimes resorting to cold-calling to verify information on the deceased and craft catchy stories that are meant to draw its readers in. Since it's the New York Times, the staff is selective about who they publish. Celebrities and politicians, yes. Obscure folks from the surrounding suburbs? No way - unless they have some claim to fame (we are told that the obit for the man who invented the Slinky was more popular than the leader of the Soviet Union at the time).

We focus in on one reporter who is trying to draft a piece about a political advisor who is best known for applying the makeup to John F Kennedy during his Presidential Debate against Richard Nixon, makeup that invariably made him more photogenic on TV and allowed him to win the election (as some would argue). He makes calls to the man's wife and argues with his editors to feature this obituary on the front page. We also intercut with "the Morgue," an expansive room of filing cabinets filled with newspaper clippings featuring perhaps millions of people, all filed by name, all there just as a reference in the off-chance someone kicks the bucket. The man who runs the Morgue is a character in and of himself. The room is a clutter of rust, narrow hallways, and yellowing papers, and he is the only one who understands the logic behind it all. He even shows us pre-written obituaries that are kept on file in the event of a celebrity's untimely death. Ronald Reagan had his first obituary drafted well before 1980.

In the end, the movie chooses to focus on the paper's historical writings related to celebrities: Michael Jackson and the like. Filmmakers clearly didn't see a way to make an invigorating film without drawing on the pop culture aspect, and perhaps this is rightfully so. The movie is thoroughly charming in the way we meet these characters going about the routine of life, and it isn't until the end that we get a taste of the movie this could have been. A final montage of life, invention, scenery, faces, emotion all whir past us in a frenzied marriage of music and images. It does no less than sum up the value of human life itself and attempts to put a poignant cap on a movie that in no way tried to narrate a story so profound. It's a stunning conclusion to a less-than-stunning movie, but in the end I still found myself moved by the idea that all life has purpose. As one of the editors comments near the end of the film: "have I done anything with my life that would make my own obituary stand out?"