Dick Johnson Is Dead

Dick Johnson Is Dead is an evocative 2020 biographical documentary that transcends genres. Directed by Kirsten Johnson, the film stars Michael Hilow, Ana Hoffman, and Dick Johnson in essential roles. A deeply personal exploration of love, loss, and acceptance, the film seamlessly blurs the boundaries between reality and fiction, making it a distinctive piece of cinema.

Arranged as a series of vignettes, the film throws us into an unconventional chronicle penned and filmed by Kirsten Johnson, the daughter of Dick Johnson. Known for her previous work such as Citizenfour and The Oath, Kirsten Johnson's latest endeavor has a considerably more personal touch. It delves into the life of her father, a psychiatrist, and the impending inevitability of his death.

Dick Johnson Is Dead is more than just a chronicle of an old man's life. It's a beautiful, humorous, and ultimately touching tribute from a daughter to her father. Kirsten attempts to immortalize her father in the most unusual way, through a series of staged and cinematic demises, infused with black humor and pathos. Through these scenes, the film grapples with the concept and reality of death.

Upon examination of Dick Johnson's life, we see that he's not an extraordinary individual in the traditional sense. He's a caring father, a widower, an empathetic psychiatrist, and an Alzheimer's patient. Even so, his richness comes from the way he interacts with the world and his daughter, bringing charm, wit, and gentle nature to each staged scene.

The performances in the film are brilliant. Michael Hilow and Ana Hoffman bring their own unique touches to their roles. However, it is Dick Johnson himself who captures your heart. He is undeniably likable and his warmth radiates off the screen. His willingness to partake in this unusual project is endearing and his courage touches you.

While the film grapples with significant subject matter, it's not without its lighter moments. The foundation of the narrative is based on a series of staged deaths, akin to a series of skits. These skits, while obviously morbid, are shot in a way that lightens the mood and never feels out of place. The humor is quite dark, but it is also quite effective and provides a nice break to the more emotional scenes.

Whether it's a fatal accident involving a construction worker, or death in the midst of an exotic dance, the tone never veers into outright absurdity. Instead, these reflective moments are carefully mixed with raw, often jarring, scenes of Dick’s real life and his existing battle with dementia. They dance on the line between the magical and the grim realities of life, intertwining fantasy with poignant and intimate moments.

The camera work takes on a life of its own with the interesting storytelling approach. Johnson's camera, essentially an extension of herself, bipolarly oscillates between the family's intimate moments and carefully coordinated cinematic deaths, showcasing a juxtaposition of reality and staged sequences.

In one scene, we may see Dick in a lucid conversation with Kirsten about her deceased mother, in the next, he may be tumbling down a flight of stairs as part of an elaborately choreographed death scene. The shifting threads between documentary's verité style and the bold staging of adventure movie-style deaths is what makes the film uniquely engaging and utterly unpredictable.

The fusion of humor and pathos distinguishes the movie and makes it something beyond your average documentary. It isn't just a film about an elderly man confronting his own mortality; it's an exploration of the human response to understanding that life, in all its beauty and vibrancy, is fleeting.

In the end, Dick Johnson Is Dead is a deeply intimate exploration of life, death, memory, and love. It's a beautifully constructed film that finds joy in the inevitability of life’s conclusion while celebrating the impact of an ordinary life, illuminating the notion that every life, no matter how seemingly ordinary, is significant and resonates beyond what we might see on the surface.