I recently watched The Man Nobody Knew, a documentary released in 2011. The film traces the life of former CIA operative and eventual director William Colby (1920-1996). Directed and produced by his son, Carl, the film is described on its website as "a probing history of the CIA, a personal memoir of a family living in clandestine shadows, and an inquiry into the hard costs of a nation's most cloaked actions."
Much history is traversed in the film, from World War II to Colby's departure from the CIA and replacement by George H. W. Bush as the agency's director. The documentary sometimes meanders, unsure of what it ultimately wants to say, but there is enough here that is valuable that I easily looked past its structural shortcomings. The portions covering Colby's involvement in Vietnam alone make the film worth it. And the long list of interviewees features many noteworthy names.
A thought I keep returning to, however, is that of Carl's mother, Barbara Colby, one of the interviewees. There is a stately pride about her, almost a regality. But as the film progresses, the mood gradually darkens. Ms. Colby at first speaks warmly and fondly of living in Rome, time spent with her children, and so on; but after a while, the joy begins to leave her face. She starts to search for the right words, as if still processing the past, wondering if what her husband had done for a living (much of it unknown to her for years) was right. What Ms. Colby seems to know, but clearly struggles with, is the fact that her husband was calculating, detached, and responsible for much cruelty. Specifically, he oversaw some of the most vicious policies that would come to define the US devastation of Vietnam. Colby was the sharp end of the stick.
Throughout watching the movie, a lyric I knew years ago kept coming to mind. In a song by the rock band Radiohead, entitled "Climbing Up the Walls," there is a line calmly declaring "I am the pick in the ice." Certain jobs tend to attract certain personality types, and this is the personality on display in this documentary. Despite the film's title, we know quite well these kinds of people.
In general, history and politics are better approached in a less personalized manner. Focusing on individuals and character - which we are constantly encouraged to do - serves as a distraction and keeps one from looking at systems and patterns. But examining the life of William Colby offers certain opportunities. For one, we get a glimpse into what kind of people fit neatly into these kinds of roles. For another, the Colby story ties into the present NSA surveillance issue. The film ends with the numerous congressional hearings Colby and the CIA were eventually brought in front of, including the Church Committee (1975), which led to the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) now in question over the NSA data-gathering controversy.
Because Americans lack basic knowledge of US foreign affairs, they tend to be trusting over the government's handling of them. The Man Nobody Knew doesn't necessarily teach this history, but it does offer an inside look into the corridors of power. What is revealed should give us all pause for thought about just how trusting we should be.
http://firstrunfeatures.com/themannobodyknew
