Oscar-nominated director Richard Linklater (Dazed and Confused, Bad News Bears) says he had no intention of taking the 2001 best-selling book Fast Food Nation: The Dark Side of the All-American Meal, and making a documentary with it but, instead, wanted to present “a study of character behind facts and figures. You get to the point through human storytelling.” But the documentary points – such as the ghastly scenes of the “Kill Floor” and the nonstop treadmill of carnage in a meatpacking plant – are the most compelling and jarring. His drama falls flat as storytelling. It’s not the fault of the actors. Catalina Sandino Moreno (Maria, Full of Grace), Wilmer Valderrama (That ‘70s Show), and Greg Kinnear as the beleaguered midmanager of a McDonald’s-type fast food conglomerate, are all quite good. There are smaller performances by big actors, such as Bruce Willis, who’s sort of an enforcer for the slaughterhouse mafia. Kris Kristofferson, as an embittered cattle rancher, is wonderful; Kristofferson always tears up the screen. But Fast Food Nation is a dreary movie with a shambling, sloppy pace about the cruelties endured by illegal immigrants (mostly women who are blackmailed for sex). On the bright side, after seeing it, you aren’t likely to order a hamburger for at least a whole day. You might want to track down some endangered Chilean sea bass for lunch instead.

Amy Berg’s new documentary, Deliver Us From Evil, chronicles the crimes of the former Roman Catholic priest, Oliver O’Grady, who molested children, both boys and girls, in various Northern California parishes for over 20 years. He may have been a molester before he was a priest – that’s still not clear – and that might make a difference in yet another civil suit against the Church. But there are already more than 500 suits being investigated in Los Angeles County for sexual abuses by priests. It’s hard to believe. Berg, who was a news producer for CNN before she made this film, says she was stunned by O’Grady’s cooperation in making the movie. She initially called him in Ireland where he now lives. He had served seven years in state prison in California, was deported back to Ireland where, Berg explains, he lives freely, with no supervision, no requirement to report to anyone, and has easy access to children. After a few phone conversations, she went to Ireland to interview him on camera. At one point, she says, she was sickened by his capricious manner. On camera, he’s not only without remorse, he’s downright cheery, and seems to have no trace of guilt. He had lots of help along the way. He was shunted from one parish after another from Lodi to Stockton to Turlock to San Andreas, in Stanislaus County. The film asserts that Roger Mahoney, then the Bishop of Stockton, assured an outraged family that O’Grady would be remanded to a monastery if the family promised not to file a suit or a complaint. The family took the deal. O’Grady was shipped off to another parish.

Much of the focus of the film is on Roger Mahoney, presently the Cardinal of Los Angeles. As a result of Berg’s film, the D.A.’s office in L.A. says it’s examining the possibility of criminal charges against Mahoney. This is a big deal. The documentary has been the topic of major newspaper pieces and TV shows, such as Nightline.

“There are heroes in my film, too,” Berg told the Northside. “They are Father Tom Doyle, and they are the victims who are brave enough to appear in the film.”

Doyle has challenged the Church on the procedure of what appears to be covering up for predatory priests. “Remember,” Father Doyle says in the film, “the only time Christ got angry was when he went to church.”

Berg shows us the Jyono family, whose faith and lives have been destroyed by Father O’Grady, and the subsequent callous short-shrifting from the Church authorities. “Look at me,” Ann Jyono, who was sexually molested by O’Grady, tells the camera. “I’m 40 years old, I’m not married, and I can never be married in the Church because my father, who had such deep faith, will no longer walk into a church.”

Ann’s mother speaks to the camera: “We knew [O’Grady] for 22 years. We totally trusted him; never saw that side to him. He was the perfect example of what a priest should be. We supported him to the end.”

Another powerful moment in the film is a clip of Mahoney in a deposition under oath, denying that he did anything to defer justice, denying that he moved O’Grady to protect his own ambitions to rise in the Church ranks. He’s at a loss to explain the reasons why O’Grady sent him a thank-you note.

O’Grady has sent letters to the grown children that he molested, and has invited them to meet with him in Ireland. They all declined. But a couple did go to the Vatican to deliver a letter stating their complaints. They were denied entrance. Berg’s camera was there. At this printing, there has been no word back to the victims from Church officials in Rome. Meanwhile, President Bush granted the Holy Father immunity from prosecution for criminal charges in the United States.

As for O’Grady, he tells the camera: “I can still make a bright future for myself.” Deliver Us From the Banality of Evil.

There’s a lot of controversy surrounding another disturbing documentary that’s being released this month. I mean The Bridge, a film by Eric Steel that was screened at the S.F. International Film festival earlier this year. You may have heard about it. After all, it’s in our backyard, so to speak. Steel and his crew of about 20 used digital video cameras to record the people wating on the Golden Gate Bridge for every day and night of 2003, and actually caught the images of people killing themselves by jumping off the bridge. Crew members had 911 on speed dial, and Steel says a number of lives were saved by their interventions. There are estimates about how many have ended their lives this way – somewhere between 1,200 and 1,500. About 26 people kill themselves this way every year – more than any other place on the planet. Yes, the bridge is a magnet for suicides. Steel interviews friends and family members of those who jumped. We get to know Eugene a bit. When he ends his life at the end of the film, it’s shocking and heartbreaking. Almost all of the jumpers have suffered from long-term mental illness.

Steel’s point is twofold: to engender more compassion and more help for the mentally ill, and to get a barrier erected on the bridge as soon as possible.

“If 26 people were getting killed every year on a stretch of a highway, says Steel, “there’d be something put up to save lives immediately.”

We meet San Francisco resident Kevin Hines, who survived a jump off the bridge. It’s 220 feet to the water. That’s about 25 stories. The body hits the water at 75 miles per hour. Kevin says he knew he made a mistake the second he left the bridge. He had four seconds to think about it before he hit the water. He believes that a sea lion helped him to the surface – a manifestation of a higher force at work for him. Kevin did not survive unscathed. He’s had a rough time of it. A couple of his vertebrae were crushed, and he’s still being treated for mental illness.

If you see this movie – and it’s very disturbing – you might, like me, be convinced that a barrier of some kind – a chance for a jumper to change his or her mind – is most certainly worth it. Sometimes time is all we have.

Bruce Bellingham is Arts & Entertainment editor for both Northside San Francisco and the Marina Times, and is the author of Bellingham by the Bay. You can email him at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it .