By: debbie lynn elias
A “patron saint” is defined as “a saint who is considered to be a defender of some group or nation” or “a person who cares for persons or property.” After viewing THE PATRON SAINTS, a first feature documentary by Brian M. Cassidy and Melanie Shatzky and making its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival, my only hope is that the ethereal, religious saints are looking after the souls showcased in this nursing home/facility because I saw nothing that could in any way be construed as “saintly” or redeeming, either in the presentation of subject matter or the execution of the film itself.
Using a cinematic approach as opposed to documentary approach, Cassidy and Shatzky present an exploitive, dismal piece of documentary filmmaking that metaphorically equates either nursing homes, the residents or both to being garbage. Beyond visuals, the only narrative is vignette voice overs by younger resident, Jim, telling stories about the residents and talking about the facility being built next to and on top of landfills. There is no “story” or definition or purpose provided.
Manipulative editing showcases dirty linens, severely demented patients alone and mentally lost, looking unclean in their hospital garb, as Jim’s thick staccato New York accent talks about “what a nice job they did” covering the landfills; just like the “nice job” that was done to have buildings that are attractive on the outside, covering unpleasantness inside. Filmed in the dead of winter only adds to the cold callous manipulative picture painted by these ‘filmmakers’.
If the intent of Cassidy and Shatzky is to intimate that the facility workers are “patron saints”, they have missed the mark completely. If their intent is dry irony and dark humor to address poor nursing home conditions , then they succeeded. (And again, I stress, the facility is never specifically identified as a nursing home, institution, state run or private entity). Interspersed with footage of bedridden and/or non compos mentis residents, are scenes of workers – brushing someone’s dentures with nothing but water, half cleaning a toilet so that not only do we still see feces still on the toilet bowl as she walks away with her toilet brush, but sopping wet mounds of urine soaked dirty toilet paper piled on the floor which is left untouched. The only “positive” portrayal comes by way of the hairdresser (and FYI, you pay to have your loved ones’ hair done. That “kindness” is extra.)
Footage of the residents/patients is not only disheartening and sad but raises serious questions as to the ethics of the filmmakers. Given the mental state of those filmed, it is legally impossible for each to have freely given releases for same. And any family members that may have signed releases should be horsewhipped for their lack of compassion for their relatives, stripping them of any sense of dignity in their final days. I think it’s safe to say, however, that the majority of us would never defile our relatives and showcase their mental and physical frailties such as done here.
Some of the most distressing images are of a young woman named Rosemary, “Ro-Ro” as she likes to be called. Appearing to have Downs Syndrome, over the years, Rosemary was also assaulted, beaten and raped by her brother. Taken away from him by social services, she was “placed” in this facility. Mentally regressed to being a toddler, she clutches a necklace of rattles as a security blanket. In what one must believe the filmmakers view as a compassionate act, they focus on a young male therapist who gives Rosemary a hand massage. Using excessive amounts of lotion and with the camera focusing on the stroking and manipulation of each finger, given Rosemary’s history, the result borders on sexually perverse and disturbing. Other scenes focus on patients who clutch stuffed animals and baby dolls, reverting to childlike mentality and behavior. In only two instances do we see family members present and in the one case, that presence appears manipulated and staged.
For anyone who has had or has family in a nursing home or facility, this documentary will be particularly disturbing. We all have “horror” stories about some aspect of the “care” provided in nursing homes but exploitation is not one of them. My own grandmother spent 8 years in a home after breaking a hip. Ironically, it was built on top of the local landfill in Southern New Jersey where we daily took our trash when I was a child. (A private nursing home, it has since been demolished because of toxic methane gases coming up from the landfill.) During her tenure, I saw poor care or, at least what I would deem less than adequate care, on a continual basis with the biggest culprit being disinterest – disinterest in people, disinterest in working, disinterest in caring. If the filmmakers intent is to have us believe the few African-American, Jamaican or Haitian workers they briefly depict are to be “sainted” for their care, think again.
Adding insult to injury is the accompanying chorale which sounds like a caterwauling funeral dirge that accompanies “artsy” exterior shots of a plane in the distance, brown winter grass, leaf-bare trees and wind whipping dried branches that visually says “cold, bone chilling.”
If you want to see an honest investigative documentary on nursing homes (and again, the film does not clarify that this, in fact, a nursing home), dig up an investigative news piece done by ABC some years back for 20/20. Superbly and objectively done.
The day I screened THE PATRON SAINTS, the computer of the film’s publicist “crashed.” After seeing this documentary, I think I know the reason – she watched THE PATRON SAINTS on it – and the computer was so revolted that it revolted. At the end of it all, one still must ask who are supposed to be the patron saints? The workers? The filmmakers? Family members? Government agencies? Or are we talking literally and figuratively that Patron Saints from up on high are looking over these poor people with their dirty dentures and toilets, praying for them until they reach the Pearly Gates?
Written & Directed by Brian M. Cassidy and Melanie Shatzky.
