Tuesday, September 16, 2014

LETTERS TO KEN BURNS

By Ben Greenman 

Originally from McSweeneys, 2001

*

November 28, 2002

Dear Mr. Burns,

I am writing to complain about your recent six-hour documentary miniseries, "Numbers, One Through Ten." As a third-grade math teacher for the last twenty-nine years, I believe that it is irresponsible to assert that four is "the most important number of all," especially given the contributions of numbers like two and five. In addition, I am dismayed by the unforgivable omission of one, three, and nine. Where would my students be without the number three? In no grade at all!

On the other hand, I was very moved by Morgan Freeman’s recitation of Pi—after two hours and forty-five minutes, I was still riveted, and only exhaustion prevented me from staying up to see more.

                                                                                                Ruth J. Anderson
                                                                                                Dothan, Alabama


***

September 5, 2003

Dear Mr. Burns,

The Civil War, baseball, suffrage, jazz, Lewis and Clark, early radio, the police: all of these are fertile topics for exploration, certainly. But socks, Mr. Burns? Socks?

                                                                                                Jay Bettancourt
                                                                                                New York City


***

January 22, 2005

Dear Mr. Burns,

When I first heard that you were working on a miniseries about the dictionary, I called my son at his friend's house to tell him how excited I was to see it. I have been a student of the dictionary for many years, and have found myself returning to it time and time again. As a devotee of your earlier works, I was eager to see how you would treat this wonderful book, which has given me so much knowledge over the years.

How sad, then, that "Dictionary" did not live up to its promise. To begin with, I thought that the choice of narrators was wrong. Arnold Schwarzenegger, while undoubtedly a lovely man, has a Teutonic flavor to his speech that is more than a little distracting, and his work on the first installment, "Aardvark to Acetone," was difficult if not impossible to listen to. Over my son’s strenuous objections, I convinced him to watch the second installment, "Candelabrum to Canker," and was horrified to find that it was narrated by Antonio Banderas. I wanted my son to learn to have a greater appreciation for the dictionary, not to walk around the house saying "Candy, noun: any sweet or piece of chocolate" in an exaggerated Spanish accent. And then there was "Dictionary to Duumvir," which had the potential to be the most poignant episode of all, since it contained the word "Dictionary." I cannot tell you how disappointed I was with your choice of Fran Drescher as narrator.

I am not a quitter, Mr. Burns. I stuck with you through all fourteen hours of "Dictionary." The next time, though, I am not certain I will do the same.

                                                                                                Elaine Ternis
                                                                                                Davis, California


***

April 9, 2007


Dear Mr. Burns,

Far be it from me to tell an accomplished filmmaker such as yourself how to do his job. I am just a fan, a loyal fan who has always appreciated the way that you have reconstructed American history with the simplest of audiovisual tools. But in my heart, I feel as though your latest documentary, "The History of Some Things I Could Find Documented in Cheap, Sentimental Sepia-Toned Photographs," was a bit arbitrary and self-serving.

                                                                                                Harold Firbank
                                                                                                Springfield, Illinois

***

May 1, 2009

Dear Mr. Burns,

As a documentary filmmaker myself, I have followed your work since "Brooklyn Bridge" in 1981, and I was immensely influenced by such projects as "The Civil War" and "Baseball." But it is your latest effort, "Documentaries," that finally compelled me to write a letter. I had heard that this was your longest documentary yet, with more than thirty hours of broadcast time. But I was not prepared for the fact that all thirty hours would be spent panning slowly back and forth over a single photograph of your face, or that the soundtrack would consist of only of an endless loop of your laughter—which, to be honest, began to sound sinister after the ninth or tenth hour.

I hope that the DVD edition will have additional footage.

                                                                                                Lance J. Anderson 
                                                                                                Omaha, Nebraska