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The vitality of this film is clear from its opening moments, which depict O.J. as an emerging national athlete whose success at first supersedes the gathering instances of racial injustice at the hands of the LAPD. The parallel to contemporary examples of the same are implicit throughout its stirring four-hundred and sixty-three minutes.
It’s commendable for its generous scope and volume, positing O.J. as at first an outlier in the subjugation of Blacks in post-Civil Rights Movement U.S., before becoming its very fulcrum (just prior to the verdict in his murder trial, some ~70% of Blacks viewed O.J. as not guilty, a number equivalent to Whites certain of his guilt). But it’s all rendered in the same dramatized fashion as most other documentaries of this sort, underscoring contemporary interviews with blandly sorrowful music, aimless reenactments (as when the POV shifts mysteriously across the streets near Nicole Brown’s former residence at night), and a surplus of overhead drone footage. Still, an essential treatise on race in 20th-Century America.