Stereotypical Images Prevail

REVIEW OF FRONTLINE'S "COUNTRY BOYS" Stereotypical Images Prevail Tim Skeen In one scene of David Sutherland's Frontline documentary film "Country Boys," in the parking lot of Prestonsburg Community College , Jessica Riddle and Cody Perkins are looking through the college's schedule of classes. "College writing," Jessica tells Cody. "I like to write." As the film's epilogue doesn't quite make clear, Jessica and Cody did attend PCC I was one of their writing teachers. Sitting at my desk now in Fresno, California, about four years after the film was shot, I vividly recollect Jessica and Cody from among the many students I taught in eight years at PCC While they both impressed me with their intelligence and savvy, I found Jessica to be the gifted writer, someone who, in a short story called "Hidden Pennies," published in the college's literary magazine, could describe a terrifying scene with simple elegance: We all knew that Oscar, my mammy's second husband, was in the hospital for breathing difficulties. Mammy had found him in his mushroom-colored recliner, choking and wheezing with wide, frightened eyes. We weren't sure what was going to happen next. I assumed he'd only be in there for three or four days and then would be released back to Mammy's cozy warm home that always smelled like applesauce. David Sutherland's film never shows the depth of Jessica's talent; in fact, Sutherland seldom gets beyond the stereotypical images ofAppalachia in his attempt to convey the inner lives of the people with whom he spent so much time. For all of his considerable effort, Sutherland's film says more about him than the people he filmed: that he's grateful to be an outsider, dismayed by the abandoned cars, the monstrous, coal-laden trains, the roadside advertisements for Social Security disability lawyers and Jesus. I don't blame him. It's complicated, and he's not alone. In my recent memory, polite astonishment has been paid to Appalachia by Dan Rather's 48 Hours "On Muddy Gut" (1988) and Rory Kennedy's American Hollow (1999). I was born in Pikeville, and I'm often at a loss 87 to describe the region to outsiders as well. Chris Johnson's situation is perhaps the most tragic and provides David Sutherland with a few moments of empathy, not in his pitiless vision of Chris but in his portrayal of the teachers at the David School. Again and again the teachers press Chris to continue. They never give up on him. Sutherland captures their dedication and devotion to education . For the most part, the teachers' help is indispensable, though the filmmaker is at his best when he exposes the science teacher dully confusing science with faith, a scene deftly juxtaposed with the billboard images of Christ that literally and figuratively block so much of the view. At this moment, there seems to be no end to the filmmaker's abilities. But the camera turns away, and the moment is lost. Chris had several perfectly legitimate reasons for his frequent absences : he had to help his family move out of their trailer; he needed to earn money; he had to tie up the hog; he was sick of being poor. I remember, in a moment of frustration, telling one of my particularly bright PCC students, who missed class time and time again and was in danger of failing because of it, that he evidently wasn't poor enough, not hungry enough, not determined enough to put college above all other obligations. The history of Chris's hometown, Garrett, is particularly telling. In Kentucky Place Names, Robert M. Rennick writes that the town "was founded around 1914 as an Elk Horn Coal Company town named for the brothers John and Robert Garrett, Baltimore bankers and coal company financiers." Industry was their primary goal, the inhabitants merely a means to that end. Garrett's story is common to the small towns of eastern Kentucky, a tragic legacy of economic oppression that still darkens the lives of Appalachians. My father lived in Garrett when he was a child. He thinks Sutherland's film was, shall I politely say, not...