How do you make a movie about the gun crisis in America? How do you document a plague in a country that has become so desensitized to the pain it causes? How — at a time of such rampant inhumanity that millions of people seem resigned to even the most preventable horrors — do you possibly make a film that resonates with this amnesiac nation in a way that regular images of murdered club-goers, concert attendees, religious worshippers, multiplex patrons, Walmart shoppers, children, children, children, and always more children, have not?
If these aren’t rhetorical questions, that’s only because well-intentioned filmmakers like Kim A. Snyder will be reckoning with them for a long time to come. We’re lucky for their…