Robert Greene’s two most recent documentaries have examined the ethics of re-enacting traumatic events, looking at the psychological effects of immersion on performers. “Kate Plays Christine” followed an actress as she prepared to play a host who committed suicide on the air. “Bisbee ’17” observed residents of one Arizona town as they recreated a large-scale deportation that had occurred there a century earlier.
With “Procession”, Greene takes the concept of staging as exorcism to the extreme: Can men who were sexually abused as children in the Catholic Church face painful memories while making films – and maybe get some comfort out of it? The film is billed as a three-year collaboration between six abuse survivors, a professional playwright and the director and his crew. In a large “film by” credit, Greene gives victims the top spot.
“Procession” follows the men as they help each other reflect and shoot five scripted scenes based on their experiences. Various elements of the production process (casting, costumes, finding places subjects haven’t visited since their youth) become ways of coping and keeping accounts. A sixth survivor, Tom Viviano, says he cannot tell his story as it is still in court. His contribution is to act – playing predatory priests, in what must be dying feats of identity theft – in two segments.
“Procession” is exceptionally difficult to watch, as it should be. It is also difficult to assess as an art, given that it abolishes the boundaries between collaboration and cooptation and between cinema and accompanying treatment. To judge Greene’s experience, especially because of its visible health benefits, is to encroach on private breakthroughs. But the bewildering power of “Procession” comes from its ability to show them off and, to all appearances, facilitate them.
Procession
Rated R. Discussions on childhood trauma. Duration: 1 hour 58 minutes. Watch on Netflix.