In 1988, as Jim VanBebber was completing post-production on his debut underground classic 'Deadbeat at Dawn', he and cinematographer Mike King decided that for their next project they should turn to the murders carried out by the hippie followers of Charles Manson. King wanted a Roger Corman-style two-week 'quickie' shoot, but VanBebber's increasing obsession with the material, and a succession of cashflow problems and broken promises, ensured that filming and editing would take eight long years, and it would be a further seven years before post-production would be completed in 2003. The result is 'The Manson Family', a kaleidoscopic, post-modern reexamination of events which came to symbolise the end of sixties idealism, and which still leave a scar on the collective psyche of today's society.
'The Manson Family' cross-cuts between 1969 (the year of the murders) and 1996, when fictional TV reporter Jack Wilson (Carl Day) is editing together a documentary on the murders perpetrated by Manson's 'family', incorporating (like VanBebber's own film) old and new interviews with 'family' members and reconstructions of what happened. The testimonies of Tex (Marc Pitman), Patty (Leslie Orr), Sadie (Maureen Allisse) and Bobby (played by VanBebber himself), at times self-mythologising, at times simply self-serving, all subtly contradict one another, but combine to create a picture of sexual hedonism, naïve fanaticism, petty rivalry and permanent intoxication which spiral out of control as the music deals fail, the money runs out, the drugs turn nasty and murderous paranoia sets in. The middle-aged, respectable Wilson has nothing but contempt for Manson and his followers, but is forced to learn the hard way that Manson's abiding iconic status reflects a continuing crisis amongst today's dispossessed and dissatisfied youth, for whom history is bound to repeat itself.
VanBebber is, like Manson himself, a countercultural artist with something of a cult following, but in his own onslaught on the established values of Hollywood, the writer/director has adopted a mode of shooting and cutting which is altogether more thoughtful than his subject's. From the grainy-looking interviews to the psychedelic flashbacks reminiscent of the worst experimental cinema from the sixties, 'The Manson Family' achieves a lo-fi verité look whose faults, necessitated by the film's restricted budget, are largely excused by the device of the TV-documentary-within-a-film. As the credits roll at the end, a looped voice can be heard urging viewers to 'think about it', and indeed, for all the lurid potential of his subject matter, VanBebber manages to eschew sensationalism, preferring a more reflective, responsible approach. The murder scenes are unflinching, but the effect is not to titillate, but rather to expose the sordid reality of killing, blow by grim blow – and far from being glorified, Manson is portrayed by Marcelo Games as little more than a talentless, moronic hillbilly whose idiot grin, drug-addled chatter and white-supremacist fantasies suggest that only the most delusional of drugheads could ever have admired and followed him.
This bad trip of a movie is definitely not for everyone, but there are few accounts of the banality of evil as compelling.