Updated: Does Erroll Morris pay people to be in his films?
Consider this, from Scott Feinberg, of the “And the Winner is …” blog, which tracks Oscars movies. Feinberg was writing about an early showing of “Standard Operating Procedure” at Brandeis University in NYC Massachusetts and a subsequent Q&A with its director, Errol Morris. The film contains lengthy interviews with some of the American service people who took the Abu Ghraib photos while working as prison guards, most notably Lynndie England, who was seen posing with a leash around the neck of one Iraqi prisoner.
Many grafs down in his discussion, Feinberg writes this:
A side note: I was a bit surprised by the answer Morris gave to a question about the interviews after the film. The questioner, a noted journalist, asked Morris how he convinced these individuals to agree to be interviewed, and specifically if he paid them at all, “which is not okay in my profession.” Morris eventually acknowledged that he did, in fact, pay his interview subjects, jokingly explaining that he did so because “I have a lot of money and want to share it.” (He did not disclose an amount of money or if this is his standard practice.) I, frankly, don’t really have a problem with this—it got these people to sit down and talk about their behavior, and I don’t see how it would in any way encourage them to speak anything other than the truth—except for the fact that, to the best of my knowledge, this compensation was not openly acknowledged, as it should have been since this is a documentary that purports not to have any agenda other than seeking the truth, and in my estimation does not. I worry that because Morris did not do so, those who wish to disparage SOP, for whatever reason, may latch onto this as evidence of some secret agenda, just as they do in response to the use of re-enactments in his films, including this one.
Emphasis added. I don’t want to disparage SOP, but I don’t think it’s right for journalists to pay for interviews. But the question here is what Morris meant. A post by Jeffrey Wells, on Hollywood Elsewhere, muddies the waters. He includes the following statement from Morris, one that he apparently solicited:
“As documentaries have become more and more mainstream entertainment, people are aware that there is money involved. The more successful documentaries become, the harder and harder it is to get people to do them for nothing.
“People [are] aware of my success and respond accordingly. I never paid people for the interviews in The Thin Blue Line, but Stephen Hawking was paid a lot of money for the rights to his book and his participation in A Brief History of Time. Fred Leuchter was paid when I asked him to appear in several scenes, e.g., the scene of him riding up and down in a van de Graff generator at the Boston Museum of Science. I did not pay him for the interview, but if he had insisted I might have done so. McNamara was not paid a fee for The Fog of War, but of course we paid his travel and hotel. Why wouldn’t we?
“The professor who asked the question at Brandeis is a print journalist. I don’t know if she has ever done a seventeen-hour interview over two days, as I did with Janis Karpinski. I didn’t pay Karpinski, but we paid for hotel, travel and per diem. It is customary in the motion picture business. To do [otherwise] would be (I believe) unconscionable. It is difficult to ask people for such an investment of time without taking care of them in some way—and that may involve paying them.
“I paid the ‘bad apples’ because they asked to be paid, and they would not have been interviewed otherwise. Without these extensive interviews, no one would ever know their stories. I can live with it.”

Emphasis added. I find this statement odd. There’s nothing wrong with paying for people’s travel expenses, of course, and if that’s all he did he would have said so. But it certainly looks like he’s clouding the issue by conflating different things. For example, it appears he did pay Leuchter, who was the subject of Dr. Death; I don’t really understand the distinction Morris is making about paying him only for one scene, when Leuchter’s in the entire movie. And then, at the very end of a long response, after yet again making a big deal of paying only for expenses, Morris seems to acknowledge that he did flat-out pay some of his interview subjects.
Even if you’re not as rigid as Hitsville on this issue it’s certainly true, as Feinberg said, that the fact should be shared with viewers.
The NYT did a slavering piece on Morris and his new film last week. Morris has been writing a blog for the paper on its web site. In the story, we were told:
That Mr. Morris was able to wrangle Ms. England—as well as Janis Karpinski, Abu Ghraib’s former commanding officer, and Tim Dugan, a contract interrogator, among others—came about through a careful and persistent cultivation of their subjects and their lawyers.
It seems that some checkbook journalism may have been involved as well.
Morris’s filmic charms have always been slightly opaque. Looked at one way, his work can seem profound; rearrange your mind slightly, however, and the films can be suddenly trite and vaporous. Morris has a knack, too, for the gnomic utterance that doesn’t really hold up. For example, this, from Feinberg’s piece:
What spurred him to make a film about these particular iconic images, he explained on Thursday, was his amazement that although everyone has seen these images, nobody really knows anything about them.
After that Feinberg asks about thirty questions we supposedly don’t know the answer to, most of which I could pretty much answer off the top of my head. (”What sorts of punishments did the soldiers depicted receive? … Would the public be as enraged about the acts depicted if we had never seen visual evidence of them?”) We know an immense amount about the photos; they created one of the bigest news stories of the year and there were multiple criminal trials held.
Similarly, here’s Morris in the Times story:
“One of the incredibly deep ironies,” he said, “is that the photographs could serve as both an exposé and as a cover-up. That they would encourage people not to look any further and make them think they had seen everything. And that is very interesting.”
That’s not “interesting.” It’s just wrong. How did they encourage people not to look any farther? How did they make us think we’d seen everything? Didn’t they provoke a half-dozen trials and a worldwide scandal?
In this month’s GQ, he’s less evasive:
Morris is fascinated by why nearly every interview in Berlin began with a variation of the same question: How did you get them to talk to you?
“Why is that such an interesting question?” he wonders.
I tell him that I am more fascinated by the question that they didn’t ask. For all their curiosity in this area, not one single journalist asked, “Did you pay them?”
“It is interesting,” he agrees. “I don’t know if it’s a great idea for me to talk about it. I’ve always felt that if someone specifically asked me, I wouldn’t lie about it, because I think that would be incredibly stupid.”
It is not the first time he has paid a subject of his films. When he returned to find Fred Leuchter, the subject of Mr. Death who fecklessly becomes a hero in Holocaust-denial circles, several years after first interviewing him, he paid him to continue the project—payments he rationalized in an interview at the time on the basis that he paid actors to act out scenes for his documentaries and he was asking Leuchter to re-create certain images from his life as an actor.
For Standard Operating Procedure, the first of the five “bad apples” Morris interviewed, Javal Davis, asked for a fee and Morris agreed. “The rest just followed in due course.” (Only the bad apples. If other subjects refused to be interviewed without payment, Morris didn’t pay them.) “In this instance, I justified it—I think that’s how the contracts were written—that I was paying them as consultants or advisers to the project. Yes and no. I was essentially, for all intents and purposes, paying them to be interviewed.”
Here again you can see that tic of asking a question that seems to be deep but really isn’t: “Why is that such an interesting question?” He’s even “fascinated” by the question.
Well, because it’s hard to get people to do stuff like that if you don’t pay them.
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Bill,
While some documentaries are surly “journalistic,” I would love to meet the first asshole who decided that all documentaries be judged according to the standards of journalism. This misguided approach to reading non-fiction films betrays the potential of the genre and empowers those with the least regard for creating a lasting cinematic tradition. Paying for interviews is a non-issue and in this case affects neither the content nor the integrity of the film. Compounded by the fact that this was not held as a secret, this fake controversy only perpetuates the idea that documentary filmmakers must adhere to a rule, or a set of rules that (even if they apply elsewhere) have no place in cinema.
Why is it that the upper middle class white person who makes a film in the developing world (without compensating their impoverished subjects) is never criticized for exploitation as long as their supposed “intentions” are noble? Wouldn’t it be better to pay scale and let a few disenfranchised people afford potable water? And if they did pay, I imagine that you would still be annoyed for the breach of journalistic protocol. Grafting the rigid conventions of one profession onto another does nothing for either.
-Jason Kohn
P.S. Brandeis is in Waltham, MA, not NYC.
I am that asshole.
Thanks for the correction about Brandeis; I knew that, too! My apologies.
I think payment is an issue, for many reasons. Most people are smart; they understand the difference between an HBO “making of” package and, I don’t know, “Hoop Dreams.”
But a blue-chip guy like Errol Morris traffics in his objectivity. He’s “documenting” something. That’s one reason it’s an issue.
If you are going to pay people to be in your movie, you should say so. That’s another reason.
When you pay people to be in your movie, you’re creating a market for “documentary subjects.” We’ve seen where this leads in the reality TV world.
I’d like to point out that I didn’t say it affected the content or integrity of the film, though of course it did: Having been paid to do a job, it would only be human nature to do the job well, or feel one had to do the job well to make sure the paycheck comes through in the end.
Finally, I’d like to point out that the problem with the world today does not extend to the overstrict observance of such niceties.
Whenever I watch anything by Morris I always feel one of two things: a) That I’m encouraged to feel superior to the subject, which bothers me by default and b) I’m also being jerked around. Now I know why.
[…] of several other reasons as well, which I list in a discussion with Hitsville commenter Jason Cohn here.Previously in […]
Byll,
“But a blue-chip guy like Errol Morris traffics in his objectivity. ” What? By HIS objectivity, did you mean to say “traffics in subjectivity? Have you ever watched his films? If Errol was a poor first-timer, would it be OK to treat him like a filmmaker and not a reporter? Have you been absent for the last 30+ years of conversation on the illusion of objectivity in non-fiction filmmaking? It kills me that the people writing about documentary are those least apt to do so.
And as for this “market for documentary subject” nonsense, I can’t imagine a real conversation until the day that the line of people in front of Errol’s office looking for a pay check in return for an interview is longer than the line of poor Mexicans at a Home Depot waiting for a day-wage. The “subjects” in question are not applying for a job, they are people that have been asked to sit in a studio to participate in a commercial product. And although it’s patently obvious that all non-fiction films (whether about poverty in Africa or wheelchair basketball) are commercial products, there exists a mainstream prejudice that documentaries NOT be considered or treated as such.
And Dan, you probably feel superior to lot’s of people, least of those being people compensated for a day spent talking into a camera.
-Kohn
Kohn: Uh… what? Really, you gotta try harder there.