Film Review: "Obscene" (2007)

Accustomed to the norms in a more permissive society, the consternation caused by Lawrence's "Lady Chatterley's Lover" presents a near mystery to me. Even in one of the most reactionary of states, I can access this book at my public library without effort. Yet, the world I live in today is vastly different from the one encountered by those of the WWII generation, and it is one member of this generation who helped facilitate the availability of landmark works that have become nearly canonical. The man in question is Barney Rosset, former proprietor of Grove Press, the venue responsible for helping to bring selected works by Beckett, Genet and Lawrence to American readers. The life of this iconoclast who helped revolutionize societal attitudes towards the explicit in literature is celebrated in the documentary "Obscene" by Daniel O'Connor and Neil Ortenberg.

"Obscene" recounts the rise of Rosset, the scion of a privileged Chicago family headed by a Jewish father and Irish mother, to his adolescence at the progressive Francis Parker School, a most likely candidate, along with an upbringing in the Midwest's most cosmpolitan city during the era of Prohibition, for his future stature as a stalwart force against repression. In uniform during the Second World War, we learn of his exposure to the underworlds of India and China where he found himself engaged as a cameraman for the service. While hardly a libertine by the standards of any free thinker of any era, Rosset is nonetheless a man further incensed and bewildered by the self censorship, willful ignorance and philistinism of the society to which he returns. With a grounding in literature provided by a diverse array of institutions, it scarcely surprises the viewer to learn of his move towards disseminating that which is supressed.

"Obscene" devotes the appropriate amount of time towards the case of "Lady Chatterley's Lover, as the trial is only one element of the struggle that helped lift the spectre of literary censorship from us. Included in the panorama of personalities affirming the role of Grove Press in the demolition of such barriers are Amiri Baraka, William S. Burroughs, Ray Manzarek, Jim Carroll and others, either direct or indirect beneficiaries of the struggle undertaken by Rosset and staff.

More striking, however, is the presence of the notorious pornographer Al Goldstein as Rosset's interviewer. Unencumbered by any inhibitions, Goldstein dispenses with tact and facilitates a deeper exploration of Rosset's psyche. Through him, we learn more of the intimate details of the man's life, personal attitudes towards human sexuality and the perception of marriage as an institution after four failed attempts.

O'Connor and Ortenberg have not only delivered to us the study of a man, they have given us a portrait of the inertia by which so many Post-War minds were tramelled. Grove is an institution to which much is owed, not only by those with a particular affinity for the likes of Genet or Burroughs or Lawrence, but by any individual inspired to tear down the limits imposed upon artistic freedom. We owe not only gratitude towards Grove, but also to the two documentarians who have given us a compelling exposé of a less enlightened time challenged by a man of vision.