Halfway through Joshua Oppenheimer’s superb The Act of Killing I was assaulted by the following inquiry: How did this man’s camera capture all of this?
There are so many scenes bordering the surreal, that for a time I began to doubt the authenticity of its subjects. Surely the scene in which a journalist pleads ignorance of the slaughter, while his face slowly transforms into one of shame and guilt, was rehearsed. The sheer amount of pathos on display is usually reserved for movies, not real life. Yet, in scene after scene Oppenheimer shows that these men are not putting on a show; they are demons, and they live among us.
God help us all.