Old Times They Are Not Forgotten: Ghosts of Ole Miss

"What is the cost of knowing our past? What is the cost of not?" That's the quandary driving Ghosts of Ole Miss, the latest entry in ESPN Films' "30 for 30" series, which pokes at a 50-year-old wound that for many Mississippians has never quite healed. Back in 1962, the University of Mississippi's first black student enrolled on campus, flanked by military escorts, in peaceful defiance of a violent revolt by the university's student body, and others within the community. On the night of September 30, 1962, James Meredith slept peacefully in a dorm room as Mississippians protesting his admittance clashed with the hundreds of U.S. Marshals and military police sent by President John F. Kennedy and Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy to protect his constitutional rights. Guns were fired. Molotov cocktails were thrown. More than 200 were injured and two died. It was the darkest day in the history of Ole Miss — a day many who lived through it would like to forget. And yet it happened in the same year that Ole Miss' football team turned in a season to remember, going 10-0, winning the Sugar Bowl, and missing a chance at the national title perhaps only because the university's reputation had been sullied by the campus violence.

A Blockbuster Store in One Blockbuster: Cloud Atlas

Cloud Atlas switches storylines, timelines and genres like someone flipping through their multi-channel Starz package. There's a 19th century historical drama that unfolds on a sailing vessel against the backdrop of slavery. There's a 1930s star-crossed romance between two young men that plays like art-house fare. There's a 1970s journalist-detective story that inspires memories of The China Syndrome. There's a modern tale of elderly mischief that feels like a black comedy sequel to The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. There's a 22nd century Asian sci-fi adventure-drama that punctuates lengthy exhibitions of monotone dialogue with bursts of neon violence. And, finally, there's a post-apocalyptic yarn that feels like the offspring of Waterworld and Battlefield Earth, with dialogue written by Adam Sandler's Cajun Man. About the only time you'll see this much cinematic variety in a single production is when Billy Crystal kicks off the Academy Awards with one of his trademark tour-of-the-movies montages, except this time it's Tom Hanks and Halle Berry popping up in each distinct vignette. Adapted from David Mitchell's novel by Andy and Lana (formerly Larry) Wachowski and Tom Tykwer, and spanning almost three hours, Cloud Atlas clearly intends to dazzle with its size and scope. But marveling that so many storylines, timelines and genres can coexist within the same movie is like marveling that so many different movies can fit inside your television. It's only an accomplishment if you believe in imaginary constraints.

Tragically Familiar: Benji

If Benji feels like a tour of familiar territory for ESPN Films' "30 for 30" franchise, there's a reason. Chronicling the short life and premature death of 1980s Chicago basketball prospect Ben Wilson, this documentary by Coodie (Simmons) and Chike (Ozah) is yet another tale of unrealized potential and dreams unfulfilled — a theme covered in basketball flicks Without Bias (on Len Bias) and Guru of Go (which while ostensibly about Paul Westhead is memorable for its inclusion of Hank Gathers), plus The Best There Never Was (on football player Marcus Dupree) and, to a lesser extent, Tim Richmond: To the Limit. Benji also fits right in with the "What if I told you ...?" theme of the "30 for 30" marketing campaign, bringing to light a sports story that's unforgettable for those who experienced it and yet all too easy for the rest of us to overlook (Into the Wind might be my favorite example of that subgenre, but you could argue that at least a quarter of the "30 for 30" series is in that vein). But if Benji doesn't do much to stand out, we shouldn't think less of it for fitting in. Last week's release, There's No Place Like Home, was, in its utter disastrousness, a reminder of this series' routine excellence. And at least from journalistic perspective, it's far less important for Benji to stand out amongst its peers than for the documentary to prove that Ben Wilson stood out amongst his.

When Less is More: Argo

The closing credits sequence for Argo, a movie about the CIA's bizarre covert operation designed to safely return six Americans from Iran amidst the 1979 hostage crisis by disguising them as members of a Hollywood film production, begins with a montage juxtaposing the movie's characters with photos of their real-life inspirations. Over the past 10 years or so, this device has become de rigueur in historical dramas aimed at mainstream audiences, as if to prevent people from tripping over one another while calling up Wikipedia on their smartphones on their way out of the multiplex. But Argo's montage goes beyond the typical human before-and-afters by juxtaposing images of the film's mise en scene with its historical inspiration: an Iranian hopping over the fence of the U.S. embassy; a man, standing on a ledge, burning an American flag above a throbbing hoard of revolutionaries; a woman, dressed in a chador, holding a machine gun while riding in a jeep; and, back in this country, the famous Hollywood sign, only half upright in the sunburned Los Angeles hills. It's as if director Ben Affleck is underlining one last time that, yes, this really happened, and, yes, this is what it really looked like. Considering Hollywood's tendency to turn small facts into tall tales, and given the film's frequently comic tone, it's a reassurance that some moviegoers will no doubt appreciate. And yet what Argo does best within the margins of the movie proper is to convey its story's time and place with an air of assured authenticity — no underlining required.

Sympathy for the Blue Devils: There's No Place Like Home

It might have worked as a short. ESPN Films has released two of them so far in its "30 for 30" spinoff series. The first, on Pete Rose's life as a memorabilia peddler, is just under eight minutes long. The second, on Arnold Schwarzenegger's quest to be a body builder, runs just over 12 minutes. Split the difference, cut the fluff, and maybe There's No Place Like Home could have been a light yet agreeable 10-minute documentary. But at an hour it's a disaster. Monotonous. Artificial. Utterly irritating. Previously, the low point in the "30 for 30" feature series was Little Big Men, and it wasn't close, but There's No Place Like Home is in a class all its own, reaching depths you figured the series could go 10 years without nearing. True enough, the "30 for 30" series includes so many good-to-great installments that it's tough to impress — even incredibly strong pictures like Tim Richmond: To the Limit get lost in the shuffle. But with those high standards comes a reputation worth protecting, and seeing this documentary added to the proud "30 for 30" library is like watching an over-the-hill Muhammad Ali or Mike Tyson climb into the ring for another paycheck. I didn't even reach the 10-minute mark before wishing that someone could ring the bell and stop the bleeding.