9.0/10. Only caught the second half of this one, and on a plane no less, so take this review with a grain of salt, but I really liked what I saw. Vick is in incredibly complicated figure, and this mini-documentary doesn’t shy away from that. It draws out a narrative of someone naïve and at times immature and even arrogant, who was brought low, and in the process learned contrition, maturity, understanding, and redemption. That narrative, of course, glosses over a few things that don’t quite fit into it (most notably, the up and down nature of Vick’s career in the NFL post-incarceration), but it takes care to include opposing views and give context in areas where the documentary seems to be trying to make a point.
Which is to say that while there’s a simplicity at the heart of the documentary—the idea of a talented individual loses much of his potential but bounces back and becomes a better man—the documentary also takes time out to give commentary from everyone from a PETA spokesperson who’s glad for Vick’s current anti-dogfighting activism but questions his motivation and belief in the cause, to Vick’s wife who offers a human view of her husband apart from the gridiron and iron bars. At the same time, one of the most heartwarming segments of the documentary is a quick featurette on the dogs who were rescued from Vick’s kennel, and the new homes and lives they had afterward.
Vick is a really difficult person for me to get my head around. He pulls at both sides of my conscience. On the one hand, I believe firmly in the idea that people who offer genuine contrition and make efforts to remedy their mistakes deserve second chances and the opportunity to move on from their pasts. On the other hand, I am an animal lover, and it’s hard for me to trust the goodness of anyone who could stomach, physically or morally, the things that Vick did to those dogs. On the other hand, I also believe that the culture and environments we’re brought up in drive many of our beliefs as to what’s right and wrong, and the norms we’re socialized into affect what we can or cannot tolerate. And what’s more, when I see the scenes of Michael Vick after his incarceration, he truly seems like a changed man, one who appreciates the wrongness of his actions, who earned his second chance, and who’s made good on it, on the field but more importantly off of it, as a public figure and as a human being. But I also believe in the magic of movies, and their incredible ability to make someone sympathetic or villainous with the right editing and the right cinematic tricks.
This is all pretty complicated, and a sign that the Vick story captured the attention of so many because it has so many angles, so many lenses through which we can look at and evaluate it. This documentary isn’t exhaustive—it couldn’t be and still be watchable—but it at least does a superior job of telling Vick’s story, of presenting a viewpoint, but of taking great pains to include opposition, to include conflicting takes, and to include details, if not a fulsome examination, of the wider issues surrounding Vick and his life. I walked away from this episode feeling that same conflictedness, feeling sympathy for Vick and what seems like a legitimate and truly-felt change of heart, while also being unable to shake the severity of his actions. But I also walked away feeling like I understood both Vick and the events that unfolded in his life better than when I started, and however you feel about the subject of it, that’s a sign of a good documentary.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParent2016-11-07T17:30:41Z
9.0/10. Only caught the second half of this one, and on a plane no less, so take this review with a grain of salt, but I really liked what I saw. Vick is in incredibly complicated figure, and this mini-documentary doesn’t shy away from that. It draws out a narrative of someone naïve and at times immature and even arrogant, who was brought low, and in the process learned contrition, maturity, understanding, and redemption. That narrative, of course, glosses over a few things that don’t quite fit into it (most notably, the up and down nature of Vick’s career in the NFL post-incarceration), but it takes care to include opposing views and give context in areas where the documentary seems to be trying to make a point.
Which is to say that while there’s a simplicity at the heart of the documentary—the idea of a talented individual loses much of his potential but bounces back and becomes a better man—the documentary also takes time out to give commentary from everyone from a PETA spokesperson who’s glad for Vick’s current anti-dogfighting activism but questions his motivation and belief in the cause, to Vick’s wife who offers a human view of her husband apart from the gridiron and iron bars. At the same time, one of the most heartwarming segments of the documentary is a quick featurette on the dogs who were rescued from Vick’s kennel, and the new homes and lives they had afterward.
Vick is a really difficult person for me to get my head around. He pulls at both sides of my conscience. On the one hand, I believe firmly in the idea that people who offer genuine contrition and make efforts to remedy their mistakes deserve second chances and the opportunity to move on from their pasts. On the other hand, I am an animal lover, and it’s hard for me to trust the goodness of anyone who could stomach, physically or morally, the things that Vick did to those dogs. On the other hand, I also believe that the culture and environments we’re brought up in drive many of our beliefs as to what’s right and wrong, and the norms we’re socialized into affect what we can or cannot tolerate. And what’s more, when I see the scenes of Michael Vick after his incarceration, he truly seems like a changed man, one who appreciates the wrongness of his actions, who earned his second chance, and who’s made good on it, on the field but more importantly off of it, as a public figure and as a human being. But I also believe in the magic of movies, and their incredible ability to make someone sympathetic or villainous with the right editing and the right cinematic tricks.
This is all pretty complicated, and a sign that the Vick story captured the attention of so many because it has so many angles, so many lenses through which we can look at and evaluate it. This documentary isn’t exhaustive—it couldn’t be and still be watchable—but it at least does a superior job of telling Vick’s story, of presenting a viewpoint, but of taking great pains to include opposition, to include conflicting takes, and to include details, if not a fulsome examination, of the wider issues surrounding Vick and his life. I walked away from this episode feeling that same conflictedness, feeling sympathy for Vick and what seems like a legitimate and truly-felt change of heart, while also being unable to shake the severity of his actions. But I also walked away feeling like I understood both Vick and the events that unfolded in his life better than when I started, and however you feel about the subject of it, that’s a sign of a good documentary.