Last Thursday, Brandeis University was graced with a unique treat- an advance screening of Academy Award winner Errol Morris' newest film, Tabloid. The screening was organized by Prof. Alice Kelikian (HIST) and took place in the Wasserman Cinematheque, kicking off the incredible 2010-2011 film series season. Following the screening, Morris participated in a queston-and-answer session and later spoke to justArts in a phone interview.Errol Morris' newest documentary, Tabloid, begins like a fairytale love story. The main character, Joyce McKinney, whom Morris describes as one of his most fabulous characters, stands in a dress reading her very unique version of the infamous tabloid story-the case of the manacled Mormon. She begins, "Once upon a time there was a little princess," and ends, "and they live happily ever after." But everything in between is a mix of madness. With love, sex, rape, kidnapping, religion, prostitution and more, it is no surprise that this very true story has all the aspects of "the perfect tabloid." But the perfect story needs a perfect character, and luckily enough, Joyce McKinney embodies one with ease.

In a way, it is ironic that Joyce's life is making headlines yet again. She has been publicized three times in her life for three very unrelated events-winning the title of Miss Wyoming; stalking, harassing, kidnapping, and raping the chubby Mormon Kirk Anderson; and going to Korea for a unique process that has to be seen to be believed-let's just say that she ends up with five "mini-boogers." Interestingly enough, in the film she is able to play all three roles at the same time. She is a charming, likeable woman with an accented twang to her voice, and she tells her story to the audience heartfeltly and convincingly. "Thank God for all those years of drama school," she says at one point in the film; and it is obvious she loves the camera. This image of McKinney is made possible not only because of her outlandish personality, but also because of Morris' incredible way of letting people tell their stories-he just lets them speak. Very few times in the film do we even hear Morris' voice, and it is usually only to draw a conclusive point to a long-winded tale. Morris lets the audience members feel as if they are sitting in the interviewer's chair with McKinney, as well as the other fascinating people interviewed in the film. Part of this is thanks to Morris' personal unpatented invention, the interrotron, an invention that has allowed countless figures from Robert McNamara to Holocaust denier Fred A. Leuchter Jr. to speak frankly and directly to a captivated audience. With quick cuts and blink-long blackouts, the film remains fresh and interesting throughout the entire almost-90-minute runtime. But, then again, McKinney is a pretty interesting character.

For those unfamiliar with British tabloids of the '70s (though have they honestly changed that much?), the case of the manacled Mormon, also referred to as the sex-in-chains case, begins with a disappearance of a young Mormon named Kirk Anderson from his mission in London. He reappeared three days later, called the police and his kidnapper, former Miss Wyoming Joyce McKinney, was taken away. According to the tabloid story, during the three days McKinney took Anderson, the love of her life, to a desolate cabin; tied him up; and raped him in attempts to impregnate herself with his child. You can imagine why the press ate it up.

According to McKinney, on the other hand, she and Anderson, who were actually true lovers, had arranged to run away after he had been brainwashed and stolen by the Mormon Church. She came to London to free him from the terrible situation he had been forced into and only tied him up because he felt less guilty about his transgressions that way. To quote McKinney in response to Morris' question, if a woman can rape a man, "that's like squeezing a marshmallow into a parking meter." It's comments like these that explain how a story about rape can be so ridiculous.

So, which story is true? The tabloids claim they have uncovered "the truth," and McKinney claims that she knows "the truth." The only person who never attempts to unravel "the truth" is the filmmaker, and that is why it is such an effective film. From interview to interview, Morris is just interested in the story, and it makes for a seriously captivating documentary. Morris himself said, "It's been hard for me to come to a definitive conclusion about what happened; I just don't think it's available. But there is still a story, of course, and with it is a story of competing narratives-all of which are a little crazy." At the end of the film, nobody knows who is right or wrong, just that they have been told a great story- one that is too ridiculous to not be true. As we find out, the case of the manacled Mormon is only just the beginning.

The film itself is put together with a sharp eye for detail and wit that only Morris could achieve. The lightning-fast cuts during the interviews make the story feel fresh. The "tabloid-esque" cinematic technique of bolding buzzwords on screen not only emphasizes a point of necessary ridiculousness, but also highlights the overly indulgent insanity of the story itself. When you add two cheeky gossip columnists, an ex-Mormon and the pilot who originally flew McKinney to London to the mix, the story just gets better and better. During once scene in particular, the pilot described meeting McKinney in a hotel room, where she was wearing a dress that was totally see-through. His response to the memory is one of the best reactions in the film. As Morris put it himself, "totally see-through: You can't do better than that." Add that with the hauntingly minimalist melancholy-meets-madness score by John Kusiak, and the result is a winning formula.

The only thing really clear at the end of Tabloid is that the film truly is a love story. From gossip-columnist to Mormon, everybody is still clearly in love with McKinney. Whether out of infatuation, interest, or obsession, once introduced to McKinney, you can't help but fall in love. "There is this whole collection of men obsessed with Joyce, I among them," Morris said. "I like to think about it as a deeply romantic movie." And as the credits role to the perfectly cheesy words, "The End," Tabloid is certainly something you have to see to believe.