Google the phrase “inaccurate documentaries” and you will discover numerous sites triumphantly condemning the falsehoods in lists of culpable films, from Nanook of the North (1922) to anything directed by Michael Moore. No one is surprised by these critiques. After all, we expect factual correctness from documentaries, as a genre of nonfiction. So when such films fail to meet this standard, criticism looks appropriate.
It turns out, though, that if you google “inaccurate fiction films,” you will be confronted with very similar results: lists of films condemned, usually for historical and sometimes for scientific inaccuracies, from The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) to The Favourite (2018). By contrast with documentaries, we do not expect fiction films to be factually correct. For this reason, the critiques seem surprising, at least to philosophers. Christopher Bartel has even dubbed the issue “the puzzle of historical criticism.”
Philosophers responding to Bartel’s puzzle have proposed that distortions may be justified artistically (Iskra Fileva) or in light of the aims of the work (John Holliday). These solutions are plausible as far as they go. However, like Bartel’s puzzle, they are applied only to fiction. I think this is a mistake.
The puzzle and proposed solutions have focused exclusively on fiction because it is taken for granted (and not just by the philosophers I’ve mentioned) that no explanation for criticism is needed in the case of inaccurate nonfiction. Or rather, that the explanation is too obvious to spell out: nonfiction is supposed to be accurate, so falsehoods and misrepresentations are, for that reason alone, objectionable.
It turns out, however, that we do not object to all distortions of truth in documentaries. First, although factual errors of all kinds may be noted (e.g., by bloggers), they are not typically criticized when they result from blameless ignorance. An example is Carl Sagan’s description of the solar system without the Kuiper Belt in the original documentary series Cosmos (1980); the Kuiper Belt was not discovered until 1992.
More importantly for present purposes, we also accept many intentional distortions. For instance, in both Sagan’s version and in Neil deGrasse Tyson’s updated Cosmos (2014), we see the presenter traveling through the universe in a “Ship of the Imagination,” which allows Tyson (among other feats) to hover at the edge of a black hole and fly into to the nucleus of an atom. Ari Folman’s animated documentary Waltz with Bashir (2008) includes fictional characters and imaginary elements. These manifestly unrealistic devices are usually praised rather than condemned.
The question raised by these observations is why we criticize some inaccuracies but not others, in both fiction films and documentaries. The answer I favor is, in brief, that we criticize a film when justified expectations of accuracy are violated. In my view, these expectations arise from what I call the Reality Assumption: the default assumption that whatever obtains in the real world also obtains in the story, unless excluded by features of the work (which may include explicit content, genre conventions, etc.). The Reality Assumption is controversial, however, so let’s adopt a less tendentious claim here: that we are justified in expecting even fiction films to be accurate in at least some respects, and we do not drop these expectations unless the film gives us a reason. For instance, in realistic fictions we typically drop expectations of accuracy concerning the members of the existing population but not the workings of physical laws; in sci-fi or fantasy we often suspend expectations about physical laws but not ordinary human psychology; and so on. This is why critics could lambast Moonfall (2022) because of the unrealistic character interactions and dialogue, without batting an eye at the premise: that the moon is an artificial structure about to crash into Earth due to a “swarm” of alien technology.
Everyone will agree that we expect accuracy from documentaries, but this is not necessarily true in all respects. Documentaries can, like fiction films, give us reasons to go along with departures from the truth. In Cosmos, the device of the ship enhances the vividness of the narrative, allowing the presenter not only to describe the phenomena but also to point out relevant features demonstratively even when proximity is impossible. In Waltz with Bashir, the distortions contribute to the dreamlike quality of a film whose themes include the malleability of memory and the legacy of trauma.
I do not take this proposal to contradict other solutions in the literature. Instead, I construe artistic justifications or other aims of a film as reasons for suspending (some) default expectations of accuracy. My point is that this is true not just of fiction films, but also of documentaries.
Suppose that I’m right, that films are open to criticism when they violate default expectations of accuracy. This is not the whole story. For it does not explain the significance of these violations, which vary between films as well as audiences. For instance, there are numerous misrepresentations in Argo (2012). One is that the image of the dilapidated Hollywood sign is anachronistic for a film set in 1980, since it was repaired in 1978. Another is that the film portrays the CIA as responsible for rescuing a group of Americans from Iran during the hostage crisis, when the plan was actually the Canadian ambassador’s. While fact-checking sites mention the first misrepresentation, it is the second that is apt to strike us as more significant. Thus the Canadians (including the ambassador in question, Ken Taylor) objected, but the film received an Oscar for Best Picture nonetheless.
The variation is not restricted to fiction. The critical and popular response to Michael Moore’s films provides another example. In every documentary he has directed, starting with Roger & Me (1989), Moore has played fast and loose with the facts, often radically misleading or outright lying. Judging from the accolades and awards he has received, not to mention the box office receipts, many people do not care. Of course, there has also been criticism. But most of it has come from Moore’s political opponents on the right, who disagree with his conclusions. (By contrast, criticism of Planet of the Humans (2019), produced by Moore, comes from scientists and climate activists.)
These observations raise a question: If only some misrepresentations elicit (or deserve) serious condemnation, why is this? Why are some worse than others? It cannot be just that they risk generating false beliefs, since this is so regardless of significance. It could be that the belief itself is particularly important, but it is unlikely that beliefs are important (or not) in isolation.
I suggest that the inaccuracies that matter are the ones that threaten our understanding of a phenomenon, where the significance of misrepresentation correlates with the importance of the phenomenon (at least to certain people or groups) and the degree to which understanding is reduced. We may forgive misrepresentations when they contribute to the achievement of artistry or other goals, but I suspect we are less generous the more they matter to us. Either way, the same will apply to both fiction films and documentaries.
Stacie Friend
Stacie Friend is a Reader in Philosophy at the University of Edinburgh. Her research is at the intersection of aesthetics, language, and mind, focusing on fiction. She is President of the British Society of Aesthetics, an Editor of Analysis, and director of the research project “Art Opening Minds: Imagination and Perspective in Film” (TRT-0476).
