Did 38 people really witness the murder of Kitty Genovese in the New York night and do nothing? Did the NYT reporter lie about this story and know it? How do the families of the victims of such notorious crimes move on?
A very courageous Bill Genovese obsesses about his sister's murder, the apparently yellow journalism article in the NYT we all know about, its half-truths, and he interviews everyone who will speak with him fifty years after that awful night.
A cold, nasty little sociopath (whose son is hardly any better than he, and no, wearing a big ugly gold cross doesn't make a smart person not see that truth, buddy!) killed this dynamic, fun, independent young woman in New York in the mid-sixties, intending to rape her as well as murder her. He'd just shot a woman four times several days before, raped her dying self, and then set her afire. (And I'd point out those are just the two we know about.)
Her life, who she was to her family, was supplanted by her violent death, doubly a tragedy. And little Bill grows up and at 18 volunteers for the Vietnam War because he doesn't want to be the spectator who cowardly doesn't act... and gets his legs blown off. His parents both die before 60, the family is still clearly traumatized after 50 years. Bill's son is clearly hurting for his father in their conversation while doing yard work. The pain never stops. It really does make you think about the far-reaching effects of violent crime.
(Surely the temporary husband and Kitty were bearding each other, but if Rocco never talks, we'll never know for sure.)
This film made me, among other things, want to hang out of an evening with Kitty, maybe pick some numbers and have a drink, put a song on the juke box and dance. I'm so glad her real life was included in here, bringing dimension to what's become more a term, a symbol, than a woman. It's not in any sense a substitute for her having the chance to live a full life. But I am happy I and others had the chance to "get to know" and like her, frozen as she'll always be as a young and vital woman.
I haven't trusted the Times for eight years, and after this I realize I never should have before that. They're all about making money and being important in their field ... and nothing at all about the truth. In a way, if that article was really that far off the facts, they owe Bill a pair of legs. There's a thought to keep you up at night and make you know to never act on anything based on a news report again.
This film, however, does try to find some truth. There are still a lot of questions at the end, but some things, we can never know.
Wishing peace to the family.
And cancer of the penis to the murderer and his slimy son.
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