Editorial: The Hollywood Librarian

Despite all the goodwill The Hollywood Librarian seems to have engendered, with endorsements from notables like Vartan Gregorian, the name librarians and unsung ones who “star” in it, and the standing ovation it drew at its “premiere,” the documentary's clearest message is unlikely to be one that filmmaker Ann Seidl set out to convey. That message: if you want to grow up to be a middle-aged, underpaid, white woman, become a librarian. Unfortunately, with few exceptions—Eugenie Prime, formerly of Hewlett-Packard, and Jamie LaRue, Douglas County Libraries, CO, director, both of whom are eloquent about the roles of libraries and librarians—most individuals pictured are older white women. (Yes, so am I.)

Nevertheless, it's hard to malign Seidl's good intentions. And it was those good intentions that led to the film's red carpet debut at the Washington Convention Center, DC, where the American Library Association (ALA) convened this year. After all, what librarian or library advocate wouldn't be drawn to a documentary that LJ said in 2005 “aims to meld librarian-related footage from feature films with interviews with real librarians and library supporters”? Seidl's goal, as LJ reported: “to show the worth of the profession, covering such topics as intellectual freedom, equal access to information, technology in libraries, pay equity, and library funding” (see “On Film, Beyond the Bun,” LJ 4/1/05, p. 15).

Sticking closely to that description, the film includes scenes from dozens of movies ranging from Desk Set to Party Girl. It covers everything from programming to the USA PATRIOT Act, offering paeans to libraries and librarians as keepers of the book and of “the flame of democracy.” But it needed a good editor, as critics noted (see “The Hollywood Librarian Gets Mixed Reviews,” p. 38).

While ALA doesn't appear to have financially supported the film, it gave the production considerable prominence by providing the venue for the showing. Some 2000 attendees came, lured by hype and hope, though not all stayed until the end. Given the film's mixed messages and problematic distribution plan, as noted below, it's questionable whether that was a good move on ALA's part.

In promoting librarians' real value, library consultant Seidl (who has a background in acting and TV and a library degree from the University of Denver) not only hopes to enlighten those who see the film but also to recruit young people to the profession. While there are plenty of idealistic Gen Y's out there, images of admirable librarians like Susan Turrell, director of Tunkhannock PL, PA, describing her constant struggle to keep her rural library afloat, to juggle life and work, and to make her meager salary stretch may not be the best job ad.

At the film's conclusion, its “stars” took to the stage, reinforcing the feel-good aura. “The people who pay taxes and fund libraries need to see this,” declared LaRue. But Seidl's plan to open the documentary at libraries during Banned Books Week, charging patrons, is troubling.

Many libraries cannot charge patrons for programming, no matter how vociferously Seidl declares that the production is not a library program but “a movie release.” And while libraries might gain modest potential revenues, the plan could deter many as well.

As a commenter on LJ Insider said, “The people who can benefit from seeing this movie are the folks who don't use or visit (or value) their libraries” (blog comment, 7/1).

The film has already received some positive coverage in the Washington Post and elsewhere, but it hasn't been reviewed as of press time. I suspect that the reviews, and reviews of the distribution plan, will be mixed, and the attention the film gets may not be the kind of attention we need.