-De film is gebaseerd op interviews van McKinney, journalist Peter Tory (1939-2012) en fotograaf Kent Gavin uitgevoerd door Morris. De film verwijst naar de Mormoonse cultuur, zoals temple kledingstukken.
--Gerechtelijke stappen tegen Morris:
-In november 2011, Joyce McKinney spande een rechtszaak met het Los Angeles Superior Court tegen Errol Morris, stellende dat Morris en zijn producent Mark Lipson haar vertelde dat ze waren aan het filmen voor een TV-documentaire serie over de paparazzi. McKinney klaagt aan over het feit dat zij werd belasterd, want de film portretteert haar als "gek, een sex dader, een S&M prostituee, en/of een verkrachter."
You can never trust a tabloid to tell the truth. Often times the 'news' that are reported in them are skewed in such a way to boost sales, or are most often... down right wrong. Errol Morris cuts through the strange story of Joyce McKinney's lifetime of gossipy headlines in a series of interesting interviews in this documentary.
I personally had never heard of the former Miss Wyoming, who broke headlines in the 1970's, when she and a few compatriots traveled to England after planning the abduction of a man involved in the Mormon religion. Kirk Anderson was a young man who met Joyce near Salt Lake City in the U.S some time before committing himself to his faith. There was some sort of love affair between the two, and even promises of marriage, kids and a life together. Then one day, quite suddenly and with no explanation, he leaves for England. I was quite saddened by the way she told this story, and it's pretty obvious how much she loved this man, and normally when a man runs off without saying goodbye, it's pretty understandable that the relationship is over. But not for Joyce. She wasn't taking no for an answer.
The story that unfolds is pretty wild, but an absolute pleasure to watch. What makes it so interesting is the way Joyce tells the story, as the events get wilder and wilder, stranger and stranger until you have to ask yourself, 'Is this actually what happened?' She tells the story with an absolute certainty that it happened the way she tells it, and there are other interviewees that contribute to the wild tale that unfolds. However it's her personality that makes it really shine. She comes off as a happy, carefree kind of person. A real southern belle with a attitude of such nonchalance, that you can't help but smile when she describes some of the more, shall we say, illegal activities she committed.
The film shows us how far some people are willing to go for desire, even to the point of unbelievable madness. There is a bit of a sweet seaway in the main story at the end, that actually shows her obsession very well, but I couldn't help but smile at how nuts she is... but in a nice way. Certainly a sad story, perplexing at times, and simply hilarious as well.
Still, it's an interesting watch.
Kim Kardashian became famous due to a sex-tape with rapper Ray J. Some people forget that because they are so drawn by the glamour that surrounds her, making it almost unbelievable that someone so interesting could be so scuzzy in truth. So was the case with McKinney, who in comparison, at least had a too-good-to-be-true backstory: she was not merely famous for being famous; instead, she was famous for being a kidnapper with a baby face and a hell of a story to tell.
Documentarian Errol Morris takes a simplistic approach in "Tabloid" - he only interviews six people, with the majority of the storytelling landing on McKinney herself, who, even today, stands by her point-of-view, telling it in a way your grandmother talks about how she met your grandfather.
The story goes like this: in 1977, Joyce McKinney, aka Miss Wyoming, met Kirk Anderson, a young mormon with whom she fell in love with quite quickly. One day, he disappears. McKinney, afraid that he may have been kidnapped (she compares the mormon religious to that of a cult), tracks him down, and finds him in England, bringing a few accomplices along with her for "protection" against his religious affiliates.
But when the plot gets to this point, the roads diverge. McKinney claims that she and Anderson willingly left the Church of Latter-Day Saints headquarters and had a romantic weekend in a secluded village. Anderson claims that she kidnapped him, tied him to a bed, and raped him. Either way, McKinney is arrested, and in response, becomes a media sensation.
People are charmed by her innocence, the public slightly compelled, slightly laughing, with the press desperate to dig into her past and find some dirt. They uncovered strange things aplenty, and while her fame certainly did not last, she kept popping up over the years, most recently for cloning her dog in South Korea in 2008.
By turns, "Tabloid" is hilarious, shocking, and downright horrifying, never in their truest forms - more backwards than anything. The key to the films success is Morris' unbiased eye. He never lets his own opinion get in the way, rather, he presents us with enough evidence to decide for ourselves if McKinney was a sweet girl caught in a terrible circumstance, or if she truly was/is a train wreck.
At times, it's hard to dislike her, easy to believe her - as she sits across from Morris as he interviews her, she tells her story like a politician would. She is entrancing, apparently knowing, and she portrays a sort of air that makes it seem as though she stands firm in everything she says. But every once in a while, she lets out a bizarre cackle, or, an odd facial expression, that tests our trust. It doesn't help that four out of the five other interviewees don't seem to be on her side.
But what's so smart about Morris' style is that he shows us what made McKinney such a draw in the media. He often times smothers the screen in newspaper covers, which state dramatic headlines and quotes that instantly pull us into what we're about to read. There are loads of pictures shown that put a spotlight on her young, bubbly, and completely innocent looking stature - at times, I felt catapulted into 1977, actually questioning if she was guilty of her supposed crimes. And yet, when the shift changes into her decision to clone her dog, that's when I was sold - this woman is nuts. But fascinatingly nuts.
In 2011, McKinney filed a lawsuit against Morris, for portraying her as being "crazy, a sex offender, an S&M prostitute, and/or a rapist." Is McKinney so out of touch that she doesn't realize that no matter what anybody does, she'll always be considered to be that woman? In truth, it doesn't matter. Because, like its subject, "Tabloid" is weird, digestible, and utterly throwaway.