The Wolfpack

Director: Crystal Moselle

Crystal Moselle makes a directorial splash with her documentary The Wolfpack; an often disturbing portrait of a family fettered, detained and all but imprisoned by a father/husband whose hypocritical quest to find freedom for himself, his wife and children imparts a touch of tragic irony to their lives. That Moselle had free access to the family's home is nothing short of astonishing.

In her film, we meet the Angulo family. In the opening scenes, the 6 Angulo brothers are reenacting one of their favorite films; Reservoir Dogs. With extreme fidelity to the dialogue--painstakingly transcribed from the DVD, the brothers film their own version utilizing homemade props and costumes. Though cinephilia is not an unusual passion in America, the degree to which the Angulo brothers express their passion for movies might exceed that of most film-lovers.

Why do the brothers spend an inordinate amount of time watching and making movies? They serve as the boy's lone, cultural outlet in an apartment in which they are denied egress. In their father Oscar's determination to shield his family from the drugs and violence of the outside world, he literally incarcerates the family; leaving the apartment is not an option. His wife, a born and bred American mid-westerner who met Oscar in South America many years before, is also subject to her husband's incarcerative measures. We learn of the father's practice of locking the front door behind him when he leaves the apartment; the only key on his person. In his mission to keep the outside world far from his door, Oscar also forbids his family access to a computer, thereby ensuring their isolation. Incapable of interacting with the world they see from their apartment window and cut-off from social media, the brothers have little else to stimulate their minds and creativity but movies on DVD. I was pleased to learn the brothers recognize the boundaries between movies and reality.

Though Oscar is a presence in the film, the documentary focuses mainly on the Angulo brothers and their young sister. Their thoughts and feelings about their predicament are slowly teased out by Moselle over the course of the eighty-minute film and what we hear and see is surprising. One might expect resentment, which seems to be the emotional default setting but the viewer might not anticipate the fealty shown to a father who exerts tyrannical authority with an iron fist. As the film progresses, we begin to notice rebellion in the brotherly ranks and the Angulo brother's willingness to test their father's authority. One brother manages to escape though not without donning a mask he hopes will prevent his father from recognizing him should he encounter him in the New York City streets. With the impaired judgment of someone who has little experience with the outside world and an overexposure to films, an Angulo boy ventures out into the city wearing a home-crafted version of a mask worn by the Michael Myers character in the horror classic Halloween. Though the choice to conceal his identity is ill-advised, he wanders in and out of stores and various establishments until he is eventually arrested and forced to undergo therapy. One might hope the authorities would finally intervene in the Angulo family's affairs but as Oscar has broken no discernible laws, their problems persist. Therapy proves to be of little value, as the boy (teen, really) demonstrates a fierce loyalty to his mother by divulging nothing that would allow child services to take action.

Seeing work as yet another form of imprisonment, Oscar refuses to earn a living. How does the family survive? We learn the state subsidizes the mother's homeschooling, which serves as a form of income. The family is further served by low-rent.

If lack of contact with the outside world isn't bad enough, we learn from the Angulo brothers that the father is sometimes physically abusive. His violent and erratic behavior is often fueled by excessive drinking, which the family bears with superhuman patience.

One might expect 6 brothers to occasionally interact with one another in physically or verbally aggressive ways but remarkably, the brothers share a mostly peaceful and loving co-existence. If any mutual, latent hostilities exist, it is safe to assume it is all sublimated by the brothers' passionate, cinematic recreations. We see the very powerful bond the brothers share--probably the only positive byproduct of a sheltered existence.

In the latter half of the film, we begin to see Oscar loosen his vise-like hold on the boys, which is also abetted by the older brothers very natural desire to defy their father. It might bring great relief to the viewer to see the brothers finally venturing out into the city as a group; taking the subway and visiting Coney Island. It seems only fitting that their reactions to the world would be peppered with allusions to movies. On seeing the sandy beach at Coney Island, one brother likens the view to something out of Lawrence of Arabia.

In time, the brothers--and their mother--find greater freedom. One brother eventually moves into his own modest apartment; another finds a job as a production assistant while we see the mother taking liberating jogs around the city. To see the family free themselves from Oscar's grip is almost exhilarating.

Whether Oscar feels any guilt for his actions is an issue briefly addressed in the film though his responses to the subject prove to be mostly elusive. And of course many questions abound, such as: how can a father intent on protecting his children from the violence and unpleasantness of the world allow them to consume violent action and horror films? Why don't we see books in the apartment? How can any parent expect their children to survive in a world they know only from films? How did the brothers, given their unusually unhealthy upbringing, become mostly well-adjusted and personable? How Moselle gained access to the family's home and how Oscar agreed to be filmed are two questions the film also doesn't answer. Maybe it's all better left to mystery.

When we see the brothers actually attend a movie in the city, it is shocking to learn it is their first visit to an actual cinema!

We come away from Moselle's film with some sense of hope, which is very welcome. It would be interesting to see what impact freedom has on the respective family members. A follow-up film in five years might make for an affective documentary.

Albert Maysles' influence is being mentioned in the media and it's easy to see why. Moselle manages to capture the family au naturale and with little directorial intrusion. The film won the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival and has nominated at several others around the world. It certainly deserves the accolades.

A film that began as something mildly disturbing ends as something more life-affirming. I hope Moselle's auspicious debut means the documentary world has a new talent. Her film is sure to find a place on many year-end best lists.