#documentary-critique

#documentary-critique

When disgraced sex pest Brett Ratner volunteered to be Melania Trump's cinematic hagiographer, it was clear that the resulting product would be slick, vapid, and disinclined to force viewers to activate more than one brain cell at a time. It was also fitting and predictable that when presented with a choice of documentarians, the Trumps opted for the guy responsible for Rush Hour 3: Get me a Leni Riefenstahl, but without the talent!

What a baffling documentary this is. It offers a surface-level explanation of the story (a young man severing ties with his apparently controlling family), which would have been handy for a mainstream novice audience, but the entire thing is fully geared towards the sort of terminally online person who already knows the drama in forensic detail, and those aren't people who are likely to watch Channel 4 on a midweek evening.