Taraparain
Tells a fascinating and unsettling true story, and does so well, without pretending to have all the answers.
John Seal
This even-handed documentary may make you reconsider your opinion of Washington, DC, politician Marion Barry. Barry, a civil rights movement veteran with a healthy ego and an eye for the ladies, served four tumultuous terms as mayor of Washington and is now in his second term as council representative for the city's impoverished 8th Ward. His political career began in triumph as the white southerners who had traditionally controlled city patronage and purse-strings were swept into the dustbin of history; by the time of Barry's fourth mayoral term, however, the southerners regained control thanks to the GOP resurgence of the late 1990s--and to the mayor's taste for sex, drugs, and alcohol. There's no doubt that Barry did sterling work in the city prior to his first term in office, and no doubt that he was targeted and set-up by a zealous federal prosecutor who also happened to be a Republican. The film unfortunately skimps on the details of what he actually accomplished as mayor, but it's easy to understand why Barry became a neighborhood hero: he's the local lad who made good and overcame his own personal demons. Is that enough to warrant his continued presence on the city council? Barry's vigorous opposition to gay marriage (not discussed in this film) opens him up to charges of hypocrisy, and would certainly be the last straw for me. But it's also clear that, though now more of a follower than a leader, Barry remains a man of the people. Like him or not, he reflects the hopes and aspirations of his constituents.
