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"Denial," said the wag, "is not a river
in Egypt."
As Andrew Jarecki's skillfully constructed documentary about the
Friedman family proceeds, it is nothing short of startling to see how these ostensibly
ordinary folks buried their heads in the sand, refusing to acknowledge the realities of
their lives until, for all the wrong reasons, reality imposed itself so forcibly that it
could no longer be avoided.
Ironically, Jarecki started out making a film about party clowns,
entertainers hired to amuse at children's birthday celebrations. David Friedman, the
eldest of three sons in the family, is a professional party clown. When police interrupted
the Friedman family Thanksgiving dinner in 1984 with a warrant to search their home, a
very different story emerged; when Jarecki learned about this history, he switched gears,
filming the documentary even as some of its later events unfolded. He was aided
significantly by the Friedman family predilection for taping home movies, not just at
family occasions, but even in intimate moments of family conflict. Jarecki uses much of
that remarkable footage in his film.
The warrant arose out of a sting by the police who had been informed by
the postal authorities that they had intercepted a magazine containing child pornography
which David's father, Arnold, had purchased by mail from the Netherlands. ("Arnold
likes pictures," his wife Elaine says to the camera, as if they were photographs of
tulips or picturesque canals.)
Arnold Friedman was a popular teacher in the Great Neck, New York
schools and ran computer classes for local students in the Friedman home. What began as a
raid for child porn escalated into a witch hunt by overzealous police who questioned many
students, often planting suggestions of what might have happened at their computer
classes. Both Arnold and his youngest son Jesse were indicted for child molestation.
Jarecki's deft organization of the factual material provides the
momentum for a never-flagging exposition of the complexities of the Friedman case; he
parcels out pieces of information over the course of the film which keep changing the
complexion of what has come before. This was a time when there was widespread hysteria in
the United States over child molestation, with a number of high profile court cases (the
McMartin case, for example) on the front pages for months on end. Therapists claimed to
have uncovered repressed memories which sometimes turned out to be fictions planted during
hypnotherapy. In the Friedman case, even the police acknowledge that there was not a
single piece of hard evidence against the alleged perpetrators. On the other hand,
Arnold's own voluntarily written personal history indicates that there was ample reason to
consider the possibilities of misconduct.
The elusiveness of the truth about what did or did not happen in those
computer classes is made evident; Jarecki lets his leanings show through, but he keeps his
treatment even-handed. There's no question, however, about the fallout of the case. The
misery and the disintegration of the Friedman family is painfully documented in the film.
The realities of the family relationships, particularly between Arnold and Elaine, and
between Elaine and her sons, belie their own self-images and the projected image in the
community of a happy middle class suburban family. And the denouement, complete with
utterly conflicted stories between son Jessie and his own defense attorney, gives rise to
bewildered wonderment over the justice system and its practitioners.
- Arthur Lazere