(IMAGE: Bark at the Hole Productions)
Bark at the Hole Productions. 2021. Documentary. 99 minutes.
RATING: 3 out of 4
Neither the first nor the last film to be made about the events of January 6, 2021, filmmaker Chris Burgard’s Capitol Punishment nevertheless feels destined to be one of the more memorable and talked about. That’s not to say it is in any way objective — it’ll be a very long time before anything approaching impartiality is made about our current political moment — but what it lacks in perspective, it makes up for in thoroughness and a treasure trove of never-before-seen footage and firsthand testimony that partisans of all stripes are certain to find incredibly compelling, if not deeply troubling.
It should be stated at the outset that Burgard comes from the conservative side of the aisle and was among those rallying and protesting at the Capitol on January 6, along with the film’s producer and host, conservative actor/activist Nick Searcy (TV’s Justified and the Oscar-winning The Shape of Water). Burgard and Searcy previously teamed on last year’s self-distributed America, America, God Shed His Grace on Thee, and are pursuing a similar release strategy with this film. As participants that day, however, Burgard and Searcy are able to contrast their experience (backed up by their own camera footage and that of others) with more ominous news representations, establishing rather convincingly the “storming of the Capitol” was an aberration of a pronounced minority versus the overwhelming majority of peaceful — and often festive — demonstrators. Mostly unseen footage of the crowd itself — which appears to number well in the hundreds of thousands, though some participants suggest their numbers between one and two million — is a persuasive starting point which then segues into a series of interviews, conducted by Searcy, with individuals whose presence that day has since landed them in ongoing legal hot water.
The two most engaging of these are blue collar workers Derek Kinnison and Tony Martinez — friends and family men who are able to furnish not just testimony regarding heavily militarized FBI raids on their homes, but home surveillance footage to back it up. Without contrary testimony from the FBI itself, it’s impossible to know for certain to what degree this may or may not have violated protocol, but it’s difficult to imagine any rationale to bring armored military vehicles into modest suburban neighborhoods for any reason beyond raw intimidation. Corroborating testimony from Kinnison’s 12-year-old daughter and Martinez’ wife and 13-year-old-daughter regarding their treatment at the hands of law enforcement is especially chilling, raising numerous questions as to methods and motives.
Other interview subjects include pundits and journalists (Human Events editor Jack Posobiec and Julie Kelly of American Greatness), politicians (Texas Representative Louie Gohmert), at least one former Trump Administration official (Lt. General Michael Flynn) and such COVID-era notables as Atilis Gym owner Ian Smith, Riley’s Farm owner Jim Riley, influencer Melissa Tate and Proud Boys founder Enrique Tarrio, all of whom have their own takes on what happened that fateful day — and why. Though much of it is speculative, it’s the documented firsthand experiences that give the film its gravitas. Like Kinnison and Martinez, Dr. Simone Gold — a co-founder of America’s Frontline Doctors and a regular presence on television — experienced a violent FBI raid on her home which has since resulted in severe restrictions on her ability to travel domestically in conjunction with her work. None of these accounts, however, sound quite so absurd as that of Laureen and Maureen Bailey, a pair of 74-year-old twins (and grandmothers) who constitute the furthest thing imaginable from domestic terrorists.
Again, Burgard makes no secret of his bias — these individuals are not meant to be representative of anything or anyone other than their own experiences and ongoing legal troubles — which all feels problematic enough to beg for a government response. Having raised an ample number of questions, the film moves into its next segment, attempting to explain, in however fragmented a fashion, what really happened on that day. Here Burgard is on less certain footing — a melange of conspiracy theories, suspicions and earnest attempts to connect some very curious dots raise many questions but furnish few satisfying answers. Video material corroborates the presence of at least two individuals who may have been outside agitators — ANTIFA organizer John Sullivan and suspected undercover FBI operative Ray Epps — but these threads are not further explored.
Burgard wisely saves the best and most powerful punch for the closer, however, as he revisits the shooting death of Ashli Babbitt via a lengthy and heart-rending interview with her husband Aaron Babbitt. Putting a human, non-partisan face on Babbitt’s life and untimely demise — including horrifying footage of the actual shooting — likewise raises serious questions which have yet to be adequately addressed much less answered.
To their credit, Burgard and Searcy never allow the film to wallow in the self-seriousness with which mainstream news organizations — conservative and liberal — titillate the popular appetite for sensationalism. Searcy’s folksy, self-deprecating sense of humor and patriotism establishes a welcome tone and helps make the material here far more digestible than if it had been produced with the usual assortment of spooky music cues, apocalyptic sound effects and shock edits — a credit to Burgard’s and Searcy’s other creative collaborator, editor Zachary Weintraub. Absent any of these usual “tricks of the trade,” Capitol Punishment is a rare bird in the field of advocacy cinema — a movie that offers up its biases in hopes of initiating a conversation rather than ending one. Those who both share and dissent from Burgard’s and Searcy’s views would do well to take them up on it.
Capitol Punishment is available for download or to purchase on DVD at CapitolPunishmentTheMovie.com.
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