ichard Kronfeld is a regular joe from Minneapolis. Who lives
with his mother. Who was featured in the 1999 documentary Trekkies
because of his proclivity to create semifunctional reproductions of props
from Star Trek (like Captain Pike's wheelchair and life-support
unit). Who wants to be abducted by aliens. And who took his first trip
outside the Twin Cities in order to realize that ambition by attending
1997's six-day 50th anniversary celebration of the alleged UFO crash at
Roswell, N.M.
"There's people there who can show me how to meet the
aliens, or get abducted," says Richard. "No one from Minnesota gets
abducted!"
Richard's pilgrimage, as chronicled by the Trekkies team
of producer Roger Nygard and director Timothy B. Johnson, has no cogent
storyline; Six Days in Roswell unfolds out of chronological
sequence. Richard is both the main subject of the documentary and a part
of the crew. The viewers follow him as he meets and interviews various UFO
freaks, fanatics and prophets in his own unique way, which blends the
techniques of Fox Mulder and Dan Rather. As a documentary, Six Days in
Roswell features more warpings of reality than can be found in most
science-fiction films, and there is some question as to what extent the
film's Richard Kronfeld is a character played by the real Richard Kronfeld
in a "Blair-Witchy" kind of way.
The little nerd who (sort of) could
Nygard and Johnson bring the same search-and-destroy sensibility
to Six Days in Roswell as they did to Trekkies. Actually,
"search and destroy" may not be the best way to describe their approach.
"Give 'em enough rope" is better. Nygard and Johnson simply allow their
subjects to talk, and what is earnestly said in Six Days in Roswell
is as vein-burstingly funny as anything you'll find in documentary send-ups
like This is Spinal Tap or Best in Show.
Richard is the point man in Nygard and Johnson's attempt to
vivisect the absurdity to be found in the confluence of kitsch and deadly
serious ufology at the Roswell celebration. How can any sensible person
get a real grip on an event that provides the juxtaposition of America's
favorite anal probee, Whitley Strieber, as an honored guest speaker, and
the world premiere of Roswell--The Musical at the Roswell Community
Little Theater? Since no sensible person can, Richard becomes our voice of
unreason, a kind of fringe-culture Everyman.
Nygard and Johnson's treatment of Richard (the character?) tends
to be a little too mean at times, and while this detracts a bit from the
fun of Six Days in Roswell, it also makes him an appealing figure in
a "Hey! Pick on somebody your own size!" kind of way. This is most
especially true at a point in the film where Richard's mom, worried about
her boy going so far from home, enlists two bruisers to teach Richard some
much-needed self-defense skills before he begins his trip. And how can any
viewer not root for a guy who writes in his journal: "It was 114 degrees
today. I guess I shouldn't have worn corduroy"?
I busted a gut while watching Six Days in Roswell. The
film is like a kind of Gestalt therapy, in which certain deeply buried
aspects of the American psyche are forced to the surface.
