'My Brother Jordan': A Reminder That Our Own Stories Are Often The Most Powerful.

After a long but wonderful holiday, I’m back! And with new ideas, but for now, let’s ease back into things. When it came time to pick a specialisation in college, it was a no-brainer for me; I was picking documentary studies. Certainly not the most popular choice, but this is where my passion for cinema came from. Looking back at my blog, I see I have somewhat neglected documentaries, but they are also not the easiest thing to write about. It is easy to analyse and critique fiction - not so much real life.

There is a seemingly endless list of powerful and important documentaries, those that have made an impact on other filmmakers and those that have made a contribution to our wider society. They provoke debate, sometimes force us to choose sides and invite us to see the world from viewpoints we once considered closed off to us.

I don’t think anybody could deny the increasing popularity of the ‘docuseries’ and, in particular, the true crime genre. For me, this format and genre is fast becoming stale. I have seen some trying to be innovative and progress the genre, but these are in the minority. I found myself becoming tired of the format and genre, but, worse, I feel empty and detached from the genre, which is not only incredibly far from what a documentary should be, but is also dangerous.

I am almost forgetting that, at the end of the day, a crime has been committed and, usually, life has been lost. The weight and seriousness present in what I am watching is becoming lost on me and I would imagine this is happening to most of us. We are bombarded by this style of documentary and the saturation is leading to disengagement. Documentaries exist to show us real life, to show us somebody else’s life, but they are also supposed to grip us and move us as much as any piece of fiction.

By chance, and on YouTube of all places, I stumbled upon a documentary called My Brother Jordan. A film not longer than an hour made by someone virtually unknown in the film world, certainly by current standards, Justin Robinson has left a lasting impression on me with a film I found profoundly moving from beginning to end and I don’t doubt would have a similar effect on anyone who watches it.

I did have to question if I was being led by my own biases when I watched this film; the era, the archive footage on VHS reminded me of my own childhood and how I grew up. My own nostalgia was certainly present while watching this film, but regardless of my own personal feelings, I truly believe that this is a powerful documentary and a well-made one at that.

Some say that happiness or maybe love are the most powerful emotions, but I think, and the film reaffirms this, that grief is by far more powerful than anything else. Grief is often tangled up with many other emotions - love, anger, happiness and regret -, but grief has essentially nowhere to go. It simply sits with you, exists inside of you and it can’t leave because we can’t change the fact that we have lost someone. As director Justin says himself: ‘time doesn’t heal all wounds.

This film is a tribute from a younger brother to his older brother and hero, from Justin to Jordan Robinson. Jordan Robinson was an exceptional young man with his whole life ahead of him. He had a lasting and profound effect on his friends and family, I can’t help but notice that I am speaking as though I know him when I don’t, but this documentary has allowed me to feel as though I do, which is a big achievement. Jordan was, sadly, diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer and passed away in 2008. To say he was struck down in his youth is an understatement.

Justin claims that there are 102 interviews and over 300 hours of home VHS tape footage and, within all of that, nobody ever said a bad word about Jordan, but we did get a well-rounded image of someone I never knew, yet feel I do. What I believe makes this film, and is the difference between this documentary and so many more current ones, is taking your time and theme.

Justin Robinson took eight years to make this film. He combed through hours and hours of footage and contained more interviews than no doubt he needed. Taking his time created an extensive picture of Jordan, and even though I would always think an entire life could not be captured by a single piece of film, let alone in an hour, this film certainly makes me feel like I could be wrong. Knowing what interviews to include is also crucial. Just because people are willing to talk to you doesn’t mean that what they are saying will progress the story. For this documentary, simply conveying how many people wanted to speak about Jordan was effective.

Perhaps the most profound thing to take away from My Brother Jordan is the importance of every day and how that story will continue to triumph. The lives of our friends, families, and neighbours are more moving, challenging and uplifting than any work of fiction could ever be. I hardly heard about Justin Robinson before this, or his brother Jordan, but I hope they both get the recognition they deserve.