When their plans fell through, they committed a foolish, desperate act and tried to rob a credit union. She tells us how she and Robert fell in love as teenagers, married in 1997 and hoped to open a hip-hop clothing store in Shreveport, La. It’s clear from the outset that she’s a born storyteller. Most of all, perhaps, “Time” is held together by Rich’s remarkable voice - soft and raspy in the older clips, deeper and more declarative in the more recent ones. It’s a visual choice that allows both time frames to gently blur while still remaining distinct, even as they are often tied together by the melancholy strains and surging arpeggios of Jamieson Shaw and Edwin Montgomery’s score.
#One moment in time movies movie#
Despite the clear contrast between the rough-hewn archival video and the sharp, shimmeringly beautiful newer material (shot by Zac Manuel, Justin Zweifach and Nisa East), the entire movie is rendered in black and white. But as constructed by Bradley, who won a directing prize at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, it’s bound by certain formal unities. 16 on Amazon, is an artful puzzle, a hypnotic game of chronological hopscotch. “Time,” which opens in select theaters this week and begins streaming Oct. Bradley and her editor, Gabriel Rhodes, began cutting together the past and present footage and what emerged was a prismatic story of crime and punishment, a critical portrait of the prison system’s many casualties and an 81-minute, two-decades-spanning epic of love, devotion and perseverance. Many years later, she turned over her roughly 100-hour trove of material to Bradley, who had already been filming Rich and her six sons (including those now fully grown twins, Freedom and Justus). Rich filmed these moments so that her husband could see a little of what he’d missed after his eventual release. It’s an intensely intimate sequence, teeming with life, pulsing with joy and yet marked by a powerful, palpable absence. “Do you know how hard I’m gonna be smiling when you come home?” Eventually she addresses the camera again, quietly beaming: “Do you see this smile, Robert?” she whispers. Piano chords flood the soundtrack, and images flood the screen: We see Rich hanging out with her boys at home, splashing about with them in a pool, lecturing them in the car and jostling next to them on a carnival ride. Moving on to a happier subject, she announces she’s pregnant with twins, standing up to reveal her gently swollen belly.īefore she can say much more, one of her young sons, Laurence, pops into the frame with a goofy grin - and for the next few minutes the camera is giddily aloft, leaping from one scene to the next, in what almost feels like a single uninterrupted movement. She speaks of her husband, Robert Richardson, who’s in prison, noting she herself was released about a week earlier. We first see her aiming the camera at herself and trying to figure out the best angle - the first of many moments in which she’ll gently assert her authorship, framing and reframing her own image. It’s a montage of home-video snippets, shot over several years by Sibil Fox Richardson, who goes by Fox Rich. The opening sequence of “Time,” Garrett Bradley’s haunting, heartrending documentary, is a nearly six-minute masterpiece in miniature. Because moviegoing carries risks during this time, we remind readers to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and local health officials. The Times is committed to reviewing theatrical film releases during the COVID-19 pandemic.
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