A standard hagiography that is far less interesting than the subjects it features, “Turn Every Page” aspires to none of the depth and complexity it champions throughout its too-long 112 minutes. A serviceable accounting of both a historian and a historically important editor, the documentary makes a strong case for the importance of both, yet in so doing, demonstrates that these men need no such help.
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Director Lizzie Gottlieb explains via voice-over early on that her father, writer/editor Robert Gottlieb, has been working with writer/historian/political scientist Robert Caro for the better part of 50 years. Although Gottlieb’s work has seen him take on hundreds of projects in that span, Caro’s focus has primarily been on a 4-part series on political power that is one of the most well-respected pieces of non-fiction of the last century. L. Gottlieb goes on to say, “They are now on the brink of finishing their final collaboration. I asked them if I could film them as they worked together on their last book. They both said no. They said the work between a writer and an editor is too private for anyone else to see. Slowly they have relented, a little.”
This mutual concession comes in the form of candid interviews with both men, separately, about their careers, mixed in with testimonials from talking heads that range from colleagues to celebrities, and even a POTUS. The film presents an open-and-shut case for the importance of both these men in their respective fields after about 20 minutes, leaving an hour and a half of deep-diving into the history and working process of both Bobs. And while fascinating (Gottlieb edits hard and fast while Caro went as far as to move to Texas just to understand Lyndon B. Johnson’s rural community), it doesn’t offer anything new to the broader conversation.
For Caro and/or Gottlieb fans, this is a fun peek behind the curtain to get a sense of how the sausage is made, like if a book series had a Special Features making of extra the same way Blu-Rays do. But that’s all this is: a little bonus context and a whole heap of fawning over two individuals who deserve every inch of it, yet aren’t wanting for more.
Which is fine, particularly for Caro fans or any aspiring editors out there that want to get a look at a true maestro at work. L. Gottlieb laces the story of her two subjects together loosely yet in a way that does offer some idea of a connection (or at the very least, the connective tissue that allows two seemingly different men such professional harmony). But again, this surface-level analysis is all there is, leaving any deeper understanding of what might be learned from this partnership for the larger writing/editing community, or even the notion of power itself, on the table to spoil.
As L. Gottlieb admits herself early on, getting a look at the actual process of writing and editing the fifth volume in Caro’s power series would be the real prize, yet her father and Caro simply won’t allow that. Their claim that it is too personal a process, “too private for anyone else to see” is precisely what makes it essential, and what might have elevated this documentary above the interesting yet pedestrian product that it is.
Such an exclusive “get” might have failed to reveal anything of note, but it would have represented an attempt to get at something more than what amounts to an extended commercial for the services of both gentlemen. Maybe that would have revealed something about one or both of these men, or about how one makes magic on the page. Instead, what we get is a loving tribute to two remarkable men whose work as presented here makes the case against the need for this documentary’s very existence. [C-]
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