Wisconsin Death Trip

The film is based on newspaper articles and photos, which is surely why it is so emotionally detached from its subjects, but it is simply not possible to have absolutely no emotional connection to any of the characters and remain interested in hearing about their deaths for two hours. It becomes tedious after the first 20 minutes and almost unbearable after 45. The main reoccuring characters -- a whispering mental hospital clerk and a woman who compulsively breaks windows -- are given no personality at all, only roles to perform, and only add to the problem. While well-shot, this movie is dull, plodding, and the worst kind of bad movie: it doesn't even attempt to entertain you, it just drags you along, waiting for the end.

Although this is a documentary (taken from a book of the same title that was quite popular in the '70s), it doesn't feel like one. It doesn't feel like a movie either, so I don't know what you'd call it. But one thing I can say is that it is morbidly fascinating.

It is narrated by Ian Holmes, the only recognizable name associated with the film, reading news excerpts from a small, northern Wisconsin town's newspaper from the late 1800s. The occurrences are sometimes funny, often tragic, and unsettlingly bizarre. You have to remember that there was a very small population in the area at that time (the area is still not heavily populated), so the number of odd goings-on is curious. These occurrences have even more impact because they are juxtaposed with the very wholesome image that Wisconsin has always possessed (it seems whenever a movie wants to present wholesomeness, they set it in Wisconsin) as well as the beautiful vocabulary and syntax used in written documentation at that time. The documentary is also British, which ads another element to it--somehow I think they find it even more fascinating and that comes through in the presentation.

So, Ian Holmes reads the articles and we are shown photos from the period (sometimes they are the real people being discussed, but not always) and re-enactments of the crimes (they are mostly crimes), mishaps, or misfortunes. Infrequently, current-day footage is used, which I have read as a criticism, but which I think is misguided (see below).

The strongest thing I came away with from this documentary is that human nature is consistent, no matter what the era. The crimes and occurrences committed in and around this small Wisconsin town in the late 1800s are the same crimes that are being committed everywhere today. There are classic obsession crimes (i.e., a man asked a woman to marry him, she said no, he went to her house and shot her and then himself), classic sociopathic crimes, classic abuse cases, etc. I think the modern-day footage helps to bring this message home. But, there are also some

REALLY kooky things too, which are a blast. Look for the teacher who likes to travel by train. . . .

See this film if you think the world is going to pot; you'll realise its always been there.

Unapologetically dark. Unashamedly morbid and moody. This documentary offers an alternative, more realistic, depiction of American life at the turn of the twentieth century. Mundane elements of work, love, marriage, and simple existence in the American North are swept up in an undercurrent of darkness that reminds the viewer that history is not all presidents, education, and industry. This documentary offers both sides of life, not just the common, brightly lit portion that is outlined in popular media and historical documents. This is all not to say, however, that the film is oppressive or grotesque: accounts of insanity, murder, and tragedy are intermixed with elements of black humor and sarcasm. Well worth the hour-and-a-half running time.

Wisconsin death trip is not really a film that can be accused of being "entertaining." entertainment implies that you will sit their gripped by the story and enthralled by the narrative, and this can be applied to most documentaries, such as Bowling for Columbine or Spellbound.

However, Wisconsin death trip is not most documentaries. there is no narrative or story. instead, we are given a litany of deaths and events in the life of a small town in Wisconsin, USA. obviously, this is not going to be the happiest of films.

filmed in a soft black and white, with the exception of some shots of the town in modern times, we are given an insight into the strange events and deaths in the - whose name I forget ^_^;; - over the course of four different seasons.

for some reason, I found this film to be strangely compelling. whilst not having a huge running time, it gave me a morbid curiosity that kept me watching. strangely enough, you do start wanting to see what could possibly happen next in this small town.

In conclusion, whilst it is a slow-paced film, it can be compelling if you let it, and by the end you're wondering how many strange deaths one area can actually suffer.

7/10.

This gripping documentary looks at events, many of them dealing with homicide, suicide, and mental illness, in the life of the town of Black River Falls, Wisconsin, during the nineteenth century.

If you think we are presently living in an unprecedentedly violent age, it will be enlightening to see the number of husbands who shot wives, wives who shot husbands, lovers who shot each other, parents who killed children, and children who killed whomever, in this sleepy midwestern town, filled with hard-working citizens of German and Norwegian descent.

Added into the mix is a remarkable number of mentally ill or drug-addicted people, notably Mary Sweeney, the "Wisconsin Window-Smasher," who destroyed tens of thousands of dollars worth of windows across the state, while taking cocaine to "steady her nerves."

The film is a combination of still photographs from the era and black-and-white set-piece recreations of the incidents, narrated beautifully by Ian Holm. The viewer should be warned, however, that it is not until the very last frame of the credits that we learn that not all the photographs shown necessarily correspond to the people in the incidents described.

A great work of social history, exploring a side of life many people prefer to ignore.