Page One: Inside the New York Times

In my mission to be the loneliest person on the face of the Earth, I spent part of my night alone at the Seven Gables theater to see Page One: Inside the New York Times, a documentary about the storied Grey Lady. Being only one of the four people inside the decrepit theater certainly contributed to the sense of solitude and the fear of dying old world institutions (but that's another issue entirely). I came in with high expectations, being a journalism major, a lover of print, and a writer who has high esteem for newspaper men and women (I myself see myself at a glossy fashion magazine, but again, another issue). I found Page One to be both heart-breaking and inspiring. The agonizing shuddering of countless print media outlets and dismemberment of the Times via economic struggle is a reality I constantly have bouncing around in my mind, but the film made this all the more real with personal stories attached.

A particularly intriguing subject of the documentary is David Carr, a writer on business and the media. The husky-voiced hero of the film has quite the underdog history, complete with drug addiction and single parenthood, which certainly provides his story an emotional backdrop, but I found his contemporary "story" more striking. He's an inspiring figure for journalists to see simply because he works and supports his Lady with a relentless spirit. Carr is painted as a fearless journalist on the front lines, unconcerned with the often scummy trenches he finds himself in. He admits only fearing guns and bats (I think it was bats, though sometimes his voice is exceptionally strained). Carr's wicked sense of humor is just another contribution to his portrayal in the film.

Whether or not you're a working or aspiring journalist, this film is important to understanding the power of news. If Page One aims to preserve the Times and other print news organization, it certainly has strengthened my resolve to be a print media supporter. Will I shill out $7.40 a week for a paper delivered to my residence? Perhaps not, but I know what I will be doing when I wake up Sunday morning. A trip to Bulldog News for a Sunday edition, a bagel, and a coffee sounds fucking beautiful.