MOVIE REVIEWS : . . . In Three Short Documentaries, the Focus Is on Women

None of the five Oscar-nominated short documentaries could be described as a feminist film, yet, significantly, three of them deal with the lives of women, middle-aged and older. In each instance the women reveal how in varying degrees their lives have been shaped by expectations placed upon them--and by opportunities denied them--simply because of their gender.

In Deborah Dickson’s 29-minute “Frances Steloff: Memoirs of a Bookseller,” the radiant 100-year-old founder of Manhattan’s legendary Gotham Book Mart reveals that when she was a child in Saratoga Springs, her father, a Talmudic scholar, simply didn’t believe girls warranted education. This denial nurtured such a love of books and learning in the young Frances that after 12 years of working for others, she dared to open the Gotham in January, 1920, with less than $100 in the bank. Steloff today believes her lack of formal education has been an advantage, allowing her to be open to the new and the experimental, which remains the hallmark of the Gotham, a gathering place for the literati of several generations.

Lynn Mueller’s 24-minute “Silver Into Gold” centers on two 55-year-old women competing in the 1985 Masters Games in Toronto. They are very much alike in their vibrancy but come from quite different backgrounds. Gail Roper defied advice that competition swimming could cause “burst ovaries” and coached herself into winning a national swimming title and a position on the 1952 Olympic team. Roper, however, did give up her swim career to bear seven children, but returned to the sport at the age of 44. Encased for decades in a traditional nun’s habit (now drastically modified), Marion Irvine, a Dominican sister who is principal of Sacred Heart Elementary School in San Francisco, experienced an urge to run during a period of restlessness on a retreat in San Rafael. Wearing borrowed sneakers and running gear, she started jogging at the age of 47--and has never stopped.

Elegant, white-haired Detroit octogenarian Reva Schwayder, in Sue Marx’s 29-minute “Young at Heart,” tells us she always wanted to be a painter but that her father was opposed. Not until her two sons were in college did she take up her brush, but it was a common passion for painting that brought her a new life with the also-widowed Louis Gothelf. “Young at Heart” becomes a tremendously touching love story between two remarkably vital old people, both of whom have survived various personal tragedies and have the courage to start over together.

All three of these fine documentaries are straightforward in style and triumphant in tone, yet their exceptional subjects all prove to be realists. For all the victories Roper and Irvine have racked up and for all their continuing efforts to stay in shape, they both acknowledge that time is inevitably slowing them down. The strikingly beautiful Steloff (an exercise buff herself) speaks with pain of her decision at 80 to sell the Gotham to ensure its survival in the proper hands. Schwayder tells us calmly of the untimely deaths of both her sons. These “superwomen,” who have challenged the usual notions of human limitations, are all very aware of mortality.

Megan Williams’ 23-minute “Language Says It All” is as warm as the previous three films. It is a highly informative and succinct outline of the ways parents can communicate with their hearing-impaired children. While showing us the miracles that can happen through sign language and other means, Williams emphasizes just how much effort and concentration is demanded of parents. Along with several families who’ve enjoyed impressive successes with their kids, Williams includes a family whose father, due to job demands, admits with sadness that he is lagging behind in his study of sign language and worries that his little daughter will suffer accordingly.

In contrast with the other nominated shorts, which are essentially traditional, Izak Ben-Meier’s 19 1/2-minute “In the Wee Wee Hours” is a highly cinematic, deeply disturbing dusk-to-dawn survey of Los Angeles’ homeless. Of all the people Ben-Meier speaks to, the most haunting are Billy and Frank, who have made a home of sorts for themselves under the freeway; when Ben-Meier returns to see how they’re doing he finds that Billy has been nearly beaten to death and, although recovering, is terribly scarred. The overwhelming sense of danger and despair that Ben-Meier, a USC student, captures is all but palpable. “In the Wee Wee Hours” is an acutely timely work of courage and compassion.