The pedestrian yet well-intentioned documentary RBG is less a piece of nonfiction cinema and more a Wikipedia page brought to the big screen. Hitting all the beats, the film is akin to the five-paragraph essay format that children learned in grade school. It opens with its introductory paragraph, a montage set to hip-hop that familiarizes us with the documentary’s eponymous subject. Through this opening, we’re given a glimpse into every single section to follow. It’s as if you put on a song and the artist generously takes time before singing to let you know that on this specific track you can expect a verse, a chorus, a bridge, and a guitar solo.
RBG is structured so neatly that its final impression is one of unextraordinary dullness. From these opening moments onwards, viewers know exactly what they’re in for. Make no mistake, renegade Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg is an undeniably fascinating subject. There is certainly much to be learned from the film regarding her upbringing, law school experience, legal battles for gender equality, rise to the Supreme Court, pop culture resurgence and history of liberal dissent against a conservative majority in the nation’s highest judicial establishment. However, these topics literally feel like Wikipedia sections translated into the documentary format. In fact, if you glimpse at Ginsburg’s actual Wikipedia page, the organization of the page is almost identical to how the documentary is structured.
It’s undeniably educational, yet it fizzles with the inertia of a derailed train. Produced by CNN Films, the documentary is destined to put students to sleep. It’s all so cookie-cutter for a portrait of such a high-profile social figure, and its uncinematic, unemotional qualities coat the film with a sterile atmosphere of emptiness.
If a biographical documentary offers little more than one could learn from reading a textbook or webpage for a half hour, it limits or even destroys its potential to transcend the tedium of cut-and-dry documentary filmmaking. The film largely consists of talking heads, Ken Burns-style photo pans and archival footage, so when compared to a compassionate nonfiction work like Morgan Neville’s upcoming Fred Rogers profile, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, RBG is a void of absent poignancy.
Sure, a children’s television host and Supreme Court Justice are separate entities deserving of different filmmaking approaches, but it would have been nice for RBG to offer more personal insight into Ginsburg’s life and relationships. There’s some reminiscing of her marriage to husband Martin Ginsburg, as well as some candid (yet arguably semi-rehearsed) scenes between the justice and her granddaughter. In fact, some of the greatest emotion we receive from Ginsburg during her interview portions of the film is her cracking up at Kate McKinnon’s impression of her on “Saturday Night Live” (of which she had never seen before). It’s a welcome burst of color in a sea of informative drywall.
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