LFF 2020: Ultraviolence
LFF
Ken Fero's Ultraviolence could not have arrived at a more poignant and relevant time. In the wake of George Floyd's murder on the 25th of May in 2020, the world – after decades of watching and abiding with the death of black Americans – woke up and demanded change. The streets on the US erupted; protests took momentum. Black Lives Matter marches were and continue to demonstrate their activism. However, much of the fury landed on the door of the US as solely an American systemic issue, but what of the world as a whole?
Fero's poignant documentary takes aim at the British judicial system and, while not specifically looking at one case in particular, Ultraviolence looks at a vast amount of tragic and unnecessary deaths between 1995 and 2005. A ten-year time span that offers some of the most shocking, brutal and haunting imagery put into a documentary.
Fero's film does not hold back, and it is effective on two significant fronts. The brutality and truly haunting statics are emphasised with actuality and evidence. For the naysayers who repeatedly refuse to believe in police brutality, this documentary offers unaltered internal footage that showcases these deaths as authentic and brutal as could be. By choosing to showcase the violence on screen, in all its honesty, Fero honours the victims of these crimes and demands justice. No cutaways. No edits. Fully-fledged material that showcases these crimes to honour and fight for those who are no longer able to or could never fight for themselves.
Using a majority of archive footage, Fero curates this feature in an operatic conductor form more so than directs. Piecing together this ensemble piece with haunting pre-existing footage and a range of point-blank interviews with those closely affected by these crimes, Fero offers a haunting experience that feels rightfully inescapable and purposely so.
For too long, the public has chosen to either ignore or avoid this subject matter, of which these victim's families have to live with for every second of their lives. Fero, for seventy-five minutes, places the audience in these very horrifying shoes, making the viewer feel and watch moments of trauma without an inch of remorse from those who have undertaken these actions. It makes for a dark and difficult sitting but one that has to be undertaken. It has been fifteen years since Fero's breakout feature Injustice, a film that touches on similar issues to Ultraviolence, and in those fifteen years, nothing has changed. It adds a morbid layer of reality to this already raw and punching entity, but one that demands answers and asks questions of those that need to speak the truth.
