User Reviews

It still amazes me how evolved the documentary film genre has become over the years.

The amount of freedom you can experiment within a documentary has become more noticeable. In this one particularly, you see a bunch of different styles and even story branches.

There is a mix of themes such as topical activism, what can be classified as art, a determination for justice and accountability, a woman's struggling life and the power of family.

The central character I had no idea about and we certainly got a thorough look into her life both as an artist and as a daughter.

It felt very definitive as I felt it gave you the perfect portrait of this person's upbringing and how certain traumas lead to this groundbreaking change in the art world.

I also liked at how they told each aspect of her life in a parallel style. The timings of shift to a different part of her life felt well-timed and gave us a very satisfying conclusion.

This was pretty interesting and while I wasn't overwhelmed by it, I can see others feeling that way.

It's well made, the content and imagery is strong and the central character was not afraid to open herself up to her life story.

There's a family who had legalised addiction, who pushed their products to administer more affliction, once you're trapped it's hard to leave, there's a good chance that you'll grieve, if you know someone, they'll need more than benediction.

A wonderful piece of factual storytelling focused around Nan Goldin's pursuit of justice and recompense for those helplessly hooked on Oxycontin, a drug that was peddled without remorse by people who thought they were above the law. The film also explores in some detail the life of Nan, her career as an artist, the wild and colourful characters she got to know in NYC, and the often crazy things she found herself doing, as well as her life as a child and the sister she lost.

All the Beauty and the Bloodshed can join Fire of Love in the club of Oscar-nominated documentaries from 2022 that would have been more worthy winners than Navalny. It's admittedly a small club, but I feel like both of those movies have moments that demonstrate documentary filmmaking at its best.

In the case of All the Beauty and the Bloodshed, it's probably the final 15-20 minutes that shines the brightest. It can be a slow and somewhat uneven feeling documentary at some points, but it builds to some phenomenal and emotionally hard hitting final scenes. The rest of the documentary still tends to hit far more often than it misses, but I did get the sense it may have been a tiny bit too long, and while I respect the choice not to tie together its two primary narratives more explicitly, part of me was waiting for them to collide more directly at a point. Still, leaving some of that up to the viewer felt like a deliberate choice, and I can respect that.

It follows Nan Goldin, with the film both recounting her life story from the 1950s to the 1990s and detailing her activism against the Sackler family and their role in the opioid epidemic in the 2010s. The latter might be more interesting narratively, but the former has the more interesting presentation, seeing as Goldin's an accomplished artist/photographer, and the documentary frequently relies on her work to serve as visuals.

It's a heavy and often sad documentary, dealing with mental illness, addiction, corruption, censorship, the AIDS crisis, discrimination, and domestic violence. It might be upsetting to some viewers as a result, but I think it was best not to pull punches (so long as people know what they're in for before deciding to watch it). It's a largely powerful documentary that I think will stick with me. Not perfect, but it has some amazing sequences that were very striking and moving.

I read the review by CinemaSerf and had similar reaction: I had expected much more of an exposé of the Sacklers. The documentary assumed that viewers would just take the side of the protesters against Sackler, but anyone with an enquiring mind might just wonder what the evidence was. I was in the fortunate position of having read Empire of Pain by Patrick Radden Keefe, which does a thorough and gripping account of the origins of the Sackler family and all their dodgy dealings, pushing opioid drugs to physicians, and recommending alarmingly high doses while arguing that only certain types of people got addicted. Once you have that background, any doubts about Nan Goldin's activism are dispelled, and you look in awe at what she's done. In effect, this film, which is quirky and relies mainly on vision and sound rather than words to convey messages, complements the scholarly verbal account in Empire of Pain. The Sackler story is only part of it - it sits in the context of Nan Goldin's remarkable life and career as photographer documenting the underground life of unconventional people after she escaped her dysfunctional family. It's an important film documenting an era in history, and showing how individuals can take on the rich and powerful. Nan features in Patrick Radden Keefe's book, and he features in her film, but I think that if you put the two together, it's perfect and the whole is greater than the parts.

You would think, as an enterpreneur who had created/developed this product, as you saw that it was contributing to 100s of thousands of deaths throughout the world, you would attempt to do something, anything, to reign in the misuse and misapplication of the product. Maybe you would put some money into combatting the misuse and consequences of misuse, of your product. But no, the family put money, lots of it, into entertainment for the wealthy, the educated, the priviliged few who attend the Louvre, the Met, the Guggenheim, etc. After all, they believed "no one is forcing them to misuse our product". The film is powerful. It shows the power of people who come together to fight evil and apathy, in spite of themselves. I enjoyed the film and I would have joined them on their march for justice.

Really two documentaries in one, though they're inextricably linked not simply because of the person at the center but because of Nan Goldin's life, how open she made herself (through visual distortions but sometimes just with the total, brutal truth in photography) and how dedicated she was and is, as the person to be a major driving force in the fight against the Sackler's, in particular with their All the Money in the World style stamp on museums and places. But above all, it's a great film (documentary or otherwise) about community - the ones that Goldin was in as a young artist, as an art organizer in 1989 with the AUDS exhibit, and then in the past several years against the Sacklers.

This is a film that would have been on its own a terrific story of this group staging these protests (taking as direct influence the Act Up protests of the height of the AIDS crisis); what takes it into feeling so important and unique is how Poitras weaves Goldin's recent times, and how harrowing and terrifying it becomes for people in the group (spoiler, the Sackler's were spying on Goldin and others), with her story as told through the thousands of photographs she took over the years. Just the use of the sound of that slide projector with those clanks immerses you into her memories and the rich, daring, wonderful and sometimes very tragic tales she had of those she knew (not least of which John Waters collaborator Cookie Mueller).

It's an equally inspiring and devastating portrait of a life - among other lives - where there was almost no other way to go except to create and find a voice through artistic expression. It doesn't take long for one to be taken with her storytelling, not just her story, and because Poitras is careful with using music and needle drops, like they are there but used to emphasize a particular time or place like "Sunday Morning" over footage of Provincetown in the 70s, you have an intimacy, like you are with her in the room seeing these slides and seeing an entire world that is now more celebrated of course (what Hipster or borderline Hipster hasn't said "damn I wish I could've lived in New York in the 70s and early 80s), but then it was such that, as Goldin says, they were seen as the outsiders, but they saw the Normies of the world as those outside of their world.

What's also so great is how the storyline of the Sackler/Opioid protests and that entire campaign - which turned out to be a mixed success, sadly Purdue and the Sacklers got a way with a lot and it's frustrating to see that (it doesn't make the film frustrating, it actually is good that nothing is sugar-coated and, ultimately, the outcome of the names being taken off like the Met and the Louvre is as good as they might very have expected - does dovetail into how Goldin found her voice as an activist, past just with her artistic/erotic photography, into that exhibition that caused a mountain of controversy. You almost may take for granted how skillfully and seamlessly Poitras brings the strands of history and governmental and business-related chicanery, and despite the several important supporting characters, like the journalist and the one woman who are central to the Sackler case, Goldin never gets lost as the subject.

This is sensational documentary filmmaking because of how it draws us in thematically, politically, and personally and emotionally. This is a story of a hero who wasn't in her early years always but bared witness always. And I'm sure Goldin would bristle at anyone calling her that, but she went through a lot of pain and struggle (and addiction and isolation), and it cant help but feel *monumental as a saga of what is possible in America (against what many in the Powers that Be would want to see or know in art, culture or from victims of addiction). I knew very little about her going in and I suspect many will become absorbed as I was; moreover, you may find yourself affected by the heart-break that these families shown on camera confronting the Sacklers. Or, if not that, the catharsis that Goldin comes to regarding her sister and her parents.

Another important story to tell but the film itself is lacking some of that connection I'm expecting to feel.

The choice to weave Nan's personal, artistic and activism journey all together is an interesting but risky one because it weakens the delivery on either one of them.

Personally, it feels like the film is putting Nan on a pedestal, instead of where she was most of her life, the dark, dirty and forgotten edges of the city. As a result, her on screen persona sometimes feels even more out of touch than a fictional character.

For what it's worth, the film comes back to the title in the end where it ties All The Beauty And The Bloodshed that Nan has seen throughout her whole life with who she is and what she is trying to achieve now. But it's just a little bit too late for my liking.

The movie "All the beauty and the bloodshed" is a beautiful documentary that covers two aspects of the life of the American photographer Nan Goldin. Her fight against the Sackler/Purdue pharmaceutical empire, the creator of OxyContin that triggered the opioid crisis, and also her journey of sexual freedom, drugs, and rock'n'roll spanning from the 70s until 2000.

Once again, experienced director Laura Poitras sensitively captures Nan's struggle with psychological survival, drug abuse, and determination to fight against the companies that influenced her drug addiction and the deaths of over 400K people. And we follow Nan's journey only through her photography lens. It's simply touching to witness her passing through the AIDS epidemic, the loss of her older sister to suicide, and the opium epidemic.

Nan's spirit life without judgment or traditionalism is very inspired.

This documentary about Nan Goldin and her battles throughout her life--personally and professionally--is many pronged with New York as the background. She was part of the art movement in the 1980's when AIDS started to invade that scene unabated since the administration of the time felt it was only a gay disease and would not be addressed. Her anger could have been surmised as the beginning there, but then we got a glimpse of her life growing up with the poor treatment her sister got by her parents. Things progressed from there. Her activism developed in the 1980's and continued into the age of Purdue Pharmacy's creation and rampant spread of oxycodone. The documentary may seem to be a bit of a hodgepodge of memories, but when you understand that her anger was developing almost from the moment she was born, you can understand how heartfelt her concern was for those who died around her. This was nominated as Best Feature Documentary for the Oscars It is an uncomfortable yet quite informative watch.

As "All the Beauty and the Bloodshed" (2022 release; 118 min.) opens, it is "March 10, 2018", and a group of activists is staging a protest at the Met, more particularly the Sackler Wing. We then go to "1. Merciless Logic" as Nan Goldin starts talking about her early youth, and how her sister Barbara commits suicide when Nan was only 7. At this point we are less than 10 minutes into the film.

Couple of comments: this is the latest from well respected documentarian Laura Poitras ("Citizenfour"). Here she brings us a nuanced portrait and assessment of photographer Nan Goldin, best known for documenting the NY underground scene in the 70s and 80s. At the same time Poitras looks back at the mysterious suicide of Nan's sister Barbara in 1965. And last but not least, Poitras follows Goldin and other members of the activist group P. A. I. N. in their attempts to hold the Sackler family which owns Purdue Company, manufacturer of Valium and Oxycontin, responsible for the opioid crisis in this country (Goldin herself is a survivor of Oxycontin addiction). The beauty of this documentary consisting of 7 chapters is how these three subjects are woven together, with Goldin herself narrating much of it. I was absolutely fascinated by it all, and I am already going on record that this documentary is a shoo-in to get a Best Documentary Oscar nomination.

"All the Beauty and the Bloodshed" premiered at last Fall's Venice Film Festival to immediate critical acclaim, winning the festival's top prize along the way. It is currently rated 93% Certified Fresh on Rotten Tomatoes, and for very good reasons. I see a LOT of documentaries, and surely this is one of the very best, if not THE best, documentaries of 2022, and also one of the very best movies of 2002, period. The documentary opened this weekend at my local arthouse theater here in Cincinnati. The Tuesday evening screening where I saw this at was attended very nicely (I counted about 25-30 people). If you like a top-notch documentary, I'd readily suggest you check this out, and draw your own conclusion.

The film portrayed nicely the approach Nan Goldin has towards her activism ; through artistic expressions that always heavily connect with her life. She is consistently at the side of marginalized groups, filled with compassion and understanding, cementing their existence with her photography, making them public as they should while calling out those who wish for them to disappear. This made the all too familiar ''exposition of the artist's career'' used in this documentary actually worth telling in this way, as all her work expresses the overarching goal of civil liberties by the accountability of oppressive powers.

The film attempts a profile of a photographer, but without laying groundwork to make the case for why she is, in thee filmmaker's perspective, a great artist. Viewers are shown a few slideshows of her work, images that are often uninteresting on their own -- without first being contextualized -- and then sequences of B-roll of the photographer shuffling around her studio and directing installations of her work. I got the the impression that if I were already enamored with the photographer, then I might have watched these sequences with rapt attention. Instead, knowing next to nothing about the artist, I found them boring -- and this was all within the first 15 minutes!

There are vastly more powerful films about photographers, searing works about the opioid epidemic, beautiful films about artistic process. This film intersects with each of those genres, but in an insubstantial and unmemorable way.

The buzz around this work -- and there is a lot of buzz -- seems rooted in the celebrity of the filmmaker and its subject. That's ironic, for the film appears to seek its power from themes larger than any individual, yet winds up relevant only if underpinned by the fame surrounding its maker and central character. Like the reviewer here PedroPires90 wrote ("Unfocused," March 3, 2023), "honestly it was hard to find the strength to finish it."

Laura Poitras' remarkable documentary ALL THE BEAUTY AND BLOODSHED which combines multiple story-lines into an incredible portrait of artist and activist, Nan Goldin. On the surface it appears as though the focus is on Goldin's attempt to bring to the public's attention the Sackler family's role as pharmaceutical kingpins during the opiod crisis. It begins with faux doctor's prescriptions and pill bottles raining down in a toney art gallery named after the Sacklers. It's a protest by Goldin's group P. A. I. N. (Prescription Addiction Intervention Now).

It's a powerful prologue, but, Poitras isn't simply interested in an advocacy documentary film here. It's a dense and intense exploration of Goldin, the person and the artist, and how her personal journey informed her activism.

Goldin is interviewed at length, and her personal writings and art are revealed in the most intimate manner. Goldin's photography evolved naturally. She was driven to document her own life and, from there, depicted an entire underground scene that had rarely been exposed to not only the art world - but, to the larger public. Goldin's fluid sexuality brought her to Provincetown and later the Burroughs of New York City, photographing everything and everyone she came in contact with. She never intentionally was putting together a portfolio - it just happened. The photographs are as private and personal as could be. Goldin never shied away from her innermost relationships, nor that of her circle of friends. That frankness is what eventually brought her to the recognition by the art world - even as it scandalized many of them. When AIDS hit her community, Goldin learned a lesson from the Act Up movement that carried on to her founding of P. A. I. N..

While all of that played out (eventually) in the public's eye, Poitras reveals Goldin's personal family life. Her strained relationship with her parents, and, most poignantly, of that with her sister who was institutionalized. Her sibling's story shows how a young woman's 'rebelliousness' can be struck down by the system and a forced dependency on drugs and a form of enslavement. It's something that Goldin carries with her to this day, including her own bout with opiods.

ALL THE BEAUTY AND THE BLOODSHED carries a lot on its plate. Poirtras' great achievement here is that no section of the movie feels out of place, nor does any part of it feel in any manner slighted. It's all of a piece melding Goldin's intensely personal quest, art and sense of social purpose.

Breathtaking.

This is what documentaries should be like. It does not gloss over things. Nan Goldin shows herself to be a formidable woman not only because of her fight against the Sackler family who made the prescription drugs that she became addicted to but because of the life that she had beforehand. And what a life it was. She had abusive relationships, funded her photography through being a sex worker and looked after her friends through AIDS. She came from a very unstable background but came over as being a really down to earth person. She managed, through her campaigning to get her message across about the fact that prescription drugs can be addictive.

To the ones that say they can't understand the continuity of the story. This is such a beautiful film in which we explore different fragments in time from a historical and social perspective juxtaposed with Nan's experience, and they all come together in the film's closing chapter. Inspiring. AND SO MASTERFUL. Truly recommended.

The poetry of using photographic images to narrate a story and simultaneously gives you a clear idea of the power of Nan's photography, and the legend she is. This is the story of how an artist, who had nothing, including an artistic education, created a new path for future generations of queer, women, and minority artists. The societal impact she made is tangible. And even for those who know Nan's work, this film will leave you with shivers.

I just made an account to write this review, as it deserves to be seen and shared!

Or not of course! Still no pun intended - as documentaries go, this is really well done and is open to those who may not know much about the era or the people (myself included as it is fair to say). It does take a bit of time though to bring everyone up to speed (no pun or drug intended), which may feel a bit slow or long for some I assume.

That said, the documentary really brings or reels it in towards the end. Knowing where you want to go and delivering on that premise is quite important. Overall this will be more effective though with people who are more interested in what went on. I can't say that I was the right target audience - still this was engaging and more than interesting ...

The opioid crisis has been making news for the past few years. In 2022, the miniseries "Dopesick" exposed the root of the crisis: the Sackler family, through their company Purdue Pharma, marketed products to people in Appalachia that got them addicted to these things, causing large numbers of deaths.

Laura Poitras's Academy Award-nominated "All the Beauty and the Bloodshed" focuses on another person who helped exposed the Sacklers' evildoing: Nan Goldin. Goldin had been an artist for years, looking at marginalized communities, and carrying out actions to draw attention to the AIDS epidemic. In the 21st century, Goldin has been leading the push for museums to take down the Sacklers' names from their buildings.

In addition to exposing the Sacklers' crimes, Goldin also talks about her own health. She achieved this by finding her community in New York, and she has stood up for them ever since.

All in all, a fine documentary. I recommend it. Poitras also directed "Citizenfour", about Edward Snowden's expose of the NSA's spying apparatus; Melissa Leo played her in Oliver Stone's movie about Snowden.

Honestly, I don't know what to say. I hate the wild capitalism of big pharma and I should have finished this feeling disgusted with every member of this family, but I feel like I was given nothing more than the basics that everyone already knows about opioids and the industry. It tried to raise awareness through speeches from the victims and people around them, but that in itself does not make me hate the family more than if they had shown me by A + B the family's direct participation and how were able to "convince" their consumers.

Perhaps the problem is that I never felt fully connected with the film. First, the biographical part didn't interest me at all, and seemed to me quite disconnected from everything. I'm not American and this is a very New York story in everything, whether in the archive footage or the themes themselves (yes, there are drugs all over the world, but this crisis is pretty much American). I never cared about drugs and I don't know a single addicted person, either family or friends... I don't want to be insensitive, but I also don't understand so much activism not to end the problem - for example, attacking the lobbies and the money that US politicians get from big pharma... - but just to remove a name from museums.

I think it tried to do a lot of different things and it was mostly unfocused. Personally, I would have preferred it to have gone to a more factual and scientific and less sentimental route. The images are beautiful, but honestly it was hard to find the strength to finish it.

As a person who's generally really interested in drug related documentary, this was probably the worst two hours of my life spent.

The whole document begun by introducing a whole bunch of people that were close to Nan, but it didn't quite deliver their story strong enough for me to form any kind of opinion or picture about these people.

About 80% of the document was presented with slides of photos, sometimes relevant to the narrative, other times just to fill in the otherwise blank screen I feel like.

It was a real struggle to keep focused and interested in this. There were hardly enough takes discussing or depicting the Oxycontin crisis and instead, things about Nan Goldin's life, which had been awful, but the delivery of the whole story is sub par and fails to connect to the viewer.

I've seen far better documentaries from topics far less interesting or important, which forces unfortunately forces me to leave a quite generous rating of two out of ten for this one. I would only suggest this, if you fancy Nan Goldin as a public figure or as a person, but if you are more interested in the whole Oxycontin crisis, how it all started, what it was like to get sucked in to this horrific circle of opioids and what it ultimately took - just skip this movie, as it provides little to no context or insight to the subject.

ALL THE BEAUTY AND THE BLOODSHED provides insight into the life of Nan Goldstein, a remarkable artist and activist. However, the film's attempt to weave in the story of the Sackler family detracts from the impact of it. The documentary would have been stronger if it had focused solely on the Sackler family's impact on the opioid epidemic and their legal battles. Poitras' use of Goldin's photography to illustrate her personal life is fantastic, but it feels disconnected from the rest of the film's themes.

Despite these issues, the documentary has its moments. The visuals are stunning, and the film provides a unique perspective on the opioid epidemic and the impact of the Sackler family's actions.

Have you ever watched a movie that feels like it could readily be split into two separate pictures? Such is the case - and the problem - with this latest offering from documentarian Laura Poitras. The film's dual tracks showcase (1) the campaigns of the activist group P. A. I. N. (Prescription Addiction Intervention Now) formed by artist/photographer Nan Goldin to expose the greed-mongering atrocities of Purdue Pharma, manufacturer of the highly addictive opioid painkiller OxyContin, and the Sackler family, the principals behind this organization, and (2) the life, career and addiction struggle of the artist herself. In particular, the film follows P. A. I. N.'s activities to protest the Sacklers' efforts to deflect attention away from their nefarious behavior by making huge donations to the arts community (including many notable museums) by staging highly vocal, highly visible demonstrations at those facilities to draw attention to this issue, particularly the mounting number of deaths that have resulted from addiction to this prescription drug. Simultaneously, the documentary charts Goldin's journey through her colorful, prolific and high-profile career, which eventually led to a period of addiction (whose origins are never really made clear) that nearly killed her. While each of these narrative tracks is explored capably in themselves, they never quite mesh into a complete, coherent whole. Goldin's struggle with the opioid serves as an anemic lynchpin that attempts to connect these two story threads. But the central nexus isn't strong enough to link them effectively, each of which individually could have served as the bases for films all unto themselves - and that ultimately would have each been more engaging and compelling than this underdeveloped hybrid product, which often feels like it's stretching to find its true footing. The work of P. A. I. N. is arguably the stronger of the two stories, and focusing on that aspect of the story by itself would have made for a better and much more impactful picture. Unfortunately, that's not how matters play out, a disappointment given that it deals with such an important subject. Providing the proper focus for her projects seems to be an ongoing issue for the filmmaker, one that previously became apparent in her award-winning but underwhelming real-time documentary "Citizenfour" (2014) about the revelations of Edward Snowden, a shortcoming that, regrettably, has been repeated here. I find that frustrating, especially since this meandering offering, like its predecessor, has been showered with considerable undeserved praise, including an Oscar nomination for best documentary feature. Poitras clearly has a lot to say, but it's unfortunate that she has still yet to figure out how to say it more effectively than she does.

This didn't work for me: Not enough information on the Opioid industry and the 'evil' Sackler family and far too much information on Nan Goldin and her life and career as an artist, which is fine if the intention was for this to be a biographical monograph on the photographer, but frankly I didn't find her life as interesting as she does and all the endless snapshots of her friends were such a bore. What's very importantly missing here are a few Science heads to tell us why Oxycontin is so highly addictive and the dangers involved in prescribing it; What are the correlations of it leading to harder drugs? What methods were used to get doctors to prescribe it? Some statistics on how widespread the epidemic is, etc, etc, etc. Instead we are presented with details of Nan Goldin's love life and personal relationships and her world in the NYC art scene. It would have been nice to hear from a few museum and institution heads as to what these Sackler donations actually mean to them. I just felt the whole issue was unfocused and over-clouded by what seemed like a biographical, promotional film on the artist. Like a lot of celebrity activism it seemed simplistic and showy. I left the theatre feeling disappointed that this was a bit of a bait and switch documentary and for some inexplicable reason it reminded me of a neighbour who is always so insistent on showing me photographs of her pet dogs, present and past... some even from her childhood.