I don’t know a lot about the Manson Family. At a young age I was made aware of Charles Manson at a dinner table discussion between my mother and father, but he was mostly a side note to a larger discussion about Roman Polanski in the context of morality, art, and individual accountability. Later, in the dark days of middle school, I met a boy who reveled sharing everything he knew about Charles Manson and asking open ended questions about his existence that I wasn’t actually supposed to answer. Later still, I met a photographer who, among notebooks of inspirational quotes from spiritual gurus and some of the “greatest minds of all time,” counted the Man-son himself as one of his top five inspirations.
“Life After Manson” isn’t really supposed to be about Charles Manson, although it is. Instead, filmmaker Olivia Klaus attempts to capture the humanity and reflections of Patricia Krenwinkel, one of the “Manson girls,” who was first sentenced to the death penalty in 1971 and later sentenced to life in prison after the California death penalty was outlawed in 1972. Today, age 67, she lives behind bars at the California Institution for Women in Chino, California.
Is it successful? The film is essentially a 26 minute interview with historical context and atmospheric imagery interspersed throughout, giving us what could be at its best, a fleeting sense of what life is like -and has been like- for Krenwinkel in her 43 years behind bars. Marketed with phrases like “family member breaks silence,” and “ultimate destruction,” the Tribeca Film Festival and even the movie itself-fails to make a commendable attempt to shy away from the spectacle of the Manson Case and the sensationalism that accompanies senseless killing, manipulation, and sociopaths in our society.
What could very realistically be her last public interview, Krenwinkel speaks to life in prison, vulnerability, love, abuse, and the convoluted circumstances that have led her, and in many ways required her, to “recreate” an identity of her own. In the moments where she speaks about identity and choice as someone who cemented the fate of her own life at the tender age of 19, I found her words to be incredibly resonating, deeply relatable, and unapologetically human. It was in these moments that the film found purpose. The bleakness of her situation was inarguably one of the main reasons this movie was, at times, painful to watch. Painful too however, was the ease with which skepticism at her authenticity crept up my neck and would not subside for the duration of the film. Having nothing to gain from faking remorse except individual peace of mind or sympathy, I could see no reason to doubt her sincerity, and yet still I did. I felt that I should feel sorry for her, her situation, her circumstance. I did not.
I haven’t spent enough time watching and re-watching videos of Manson on youtube, psychoanalyzing his jarring public gimmicks of social commentary, or researching how to beat the screening test to meet him in jail (which I guess is a thing), to give any redeeming feedback on my impression of Manson, but part of me recognizes the allure that binds artistic douche-bag to lost soul to carrier of morbid curiosity to the cultural icon that is Manson. Drawing us all in with the same ease as he did Patricia Krenwinkel, Charles Manson just seems to have that universal “it” factor.
While I respect the attempt of the filmmaker to capture what she referred to during the Q&A as an “amazing woman, a wise woman- beyond the sensationalism” a part of me ultimately questions the decision to award Krenwinkel a soapbox from which to proclaim her naivety, insecurities in youth, and whatever else differentiated her from the rest of her peers who decided against bludgeoning strangers with forks. At the same time, my apprehension towards Krenwinkel exists primarily because of my individual apprehension towards Manson. Krenwinkel’s story simply would not be culturally relevant without him, and this mostly just makes me sad. Manipulated and abused, I empathize, and unfortunately relate; but mostly, I just feel guilty for not caring more, and shitty that I just don’t find Krenwinkel that interesting.
Not quite rich enough to be a character study, but certainly enticing enough to elicit brief self reflection-“Life After Manson” proves to be if nothing else, an interesting refresher from the typical take on the Manson Case. If not just a segway to the man himself.