These individuals found their way to a home for mentally ill homeless. This documentary tells their stories with dignity

They're the people we rush past on the errands of our busy lives; people we pretend not to notice as we scurry by.

But as shown by "West 47th Street" -- a gripping, compassionate documentary by Bill Lichtenstein and June Peoples -- they're human beings worthy of our attention, in need of our understanding and capable of touching us with their unrealized hopes, dreams and potential.

The product of more than three years of painstaking journalism and dogged filmmaking, "West 47th Street" offers a sometimes frustrating, frequently sad, often hopeful and ultimately inspiring look at serious mental illness in America and one innovative, practical and sympathetic program dedicated to helping those who suffer.

The documentary focuses on New York City's Fountain House, for 50 years a model program in providing housing, counseling and job placement services for those afflicted with serious mental illness.

More importantly, it focuses on four people whom the filmmakers help us get to know intimately as they struggle to get through each day and cope with the mental anguish that has crippled their lives.

Filmmakers Lichtenstein and Peoples spent months volunteering at the Fountain House, located in Manhattan's Hell's Kitchen neighborhood, and getting to know staff and residents before they ever picked up their cameras. After winning the trust of those around them, they spent three years following daily events at the facility and shooting more than 350 hours of digital video footage for the film.

The result is a truly dramatic and heart-wrenching glimpse into the lives of four Fountain House residents who put achingly honest and benevolent human faces on the abstract concept of mental illness.

The four are:

Zeinab Wali, whose husband abused her and finally fled with their children to Egypt as her schizophrenia worsened. At Fountain House, she's haunted by painful memories but finds solace and purpose in cooking delicious meals for fellow residents.

Tex Gordon, who was committed to mental institutions as a child and spent his youth locked up. Even after being released, he's lived for 20 years under court-ordered restraints. His dream is to be freed from court supervision and to set off on the first vacation of his life -- to Las Vegas.

Fitzroy Frederick, a homeless, dreadlocked Rastafarian who suffers schizophrenia and barely controlled bouts of rage. He has periods of lucidity when his charm wins over everyone around him, but his penchant for street drugs and crackpot home remedies causes him to suffer setbacks that put him back among the ranks of the homeless.

Frances Olivero, whom we first meet wearing a flowered skirt and explaining that his given name, Kenneth, is a terrible mistake. Despite his gender issues and mental problems, Frances becomes an articulate, determined advocate for people with mental illness -- ultimately helping pass important legislation and winning honors for his work but finally facing a heart-breaking medical diagnosis that truly tests his will to live.

With amazing patience and perseverance, the filmmakers piece together vivid portraits of these people's struggles, creating a tapestry of real-life drama that few novelists or playwrights could hope to imagine.

The film was shot in cinema verite style (a stripped-down, candid approach without voice-over explanations, talking-head interviews or other narrative intrusions) and for that radical, throw-back tradition alone "West 47th Street" deserves high praise. Its craftsmanship, thoroughness, smart editing and sensitive but clear-eyed handling of its delicate subject matter make it a work of remarkable passion and uncommon decency.

Most amazing of all, "West 47th Street" has the power to be a life-altering cinema experience. Watch it and you'll no longer be able to pass those troubled souls on the street without noticing, without caring, without understanding that attention must be paid.

Director drew from first-hand experience in chronicling burdens of mental illness
DENNIS KING World Scene Writer 07/24/2003
Tulsa World (Final Home Edition)

Filmmakers Bill Lichtenstein and June Peoples at work on their documentary “West 47th Street.”
Lichtenstein Creative Media/Courtesy

The one-time producer at ABC News, who with his wife and partner June Peoples has made the celebrated documentary "West 47th Street," has himself suffered from manic-depressive illness that he said cost him his job, his friends and his self-esteem.

"I know how devastating that can be, and how crippling the disease is," Lichtenstein said by telephone this week from his Manhattan office.

On Thursday, the two filmmakers will be in Tulsa to accompany their film on a short theatrical run at the Westby Cinema, before it debuts as part of "P.O.V.," PBS's long-running documentary series, on Aug. 19.

Lichtenstein enjoyed a successful career in broadcasting and journalism before his bout with mental illness. A graduate of Brown University and the Columbia University School of Journalism, he worked in the news divisions of several major networks, including CBS, CNN and ABC, and won many awards.

It was after his own illness, he said, "that I became acutely aware of how little people really understood about mental illness itself, and about programs of treatment and the people who've overcome and recovered and are living productive lives."

It was that knowledge that led him to produce his public radio series on mental illness, "Voices of an Illness," which garnered a George Foster Peabody Award, broadcasting's highest honor. And since then he and Peoples have produced a weekly public radio program called "The Infinite Mind," which explores the art and science of the human mind.

Lichtenstein said the idea for "West 47th Street" was a logical extension of his interest in the subject and his desire to inform people about mental illness and the possibilities for effective treatment, care and rehabilitation.

That naturally led him to Fountain House, a half-century-old program in New York City that has become a model for similar programs throughout the country, including Tulsa's Crossroads Clubhouse.

The filmmaker said he made contacts at Fountain House and he and Peoples spent three months volunteering there, "peeling potatoes, licking stamps, doing odd jobs, just to get to know the place and to win people's trust."

He said he knew going in that his story had to be told on a human scale and that he would need to profile individual residents to capture the larger picture.

"It was clear that the film would have to be driven by people's stories, as opposed to being topic driven," Lichtenstein said. "Our model was the movie 'Rain Man.' You know, people did not go to that movie because they wanted to see a film about autism. They went because they wanted to see a compelling story about guy and his brother overcoming obstacles and bonding. It just happened to offer a lot of valuable information about autism."

As Lichtenstein and Peoples hung around and became familiar figures at Fountain House, they were drawn to certain residents, people they felt offered particularly compelling possibilities for drama.

They narrowed the candidates down to about a dozen, then further focused on the film's four principles when they finally showed up at the House with cameras and sound equipment.

"By then, we were familiar figures to everyone," he said. "They trusted us. They let down their guards around us. And so when we showed up and started shooting regularly, we were just Bill and June with cameras."

Originally, Lichtenstein said he thought the project could be wrapped up in six months. "But that was naive," he said. "We ended up shooting for three years before we felt we'd captured enough footage to really do justice to the stories."

"It was grueling at times, and it demanded a huge amount of patience on our part," he said. "But as we went along, we could see that it was worth it, that these stories were growing and taking surprising turns right before our eyes."

Even after the shooting was concluded, the filmmakers spent 16 months in the editing room with veteran editor Spiro C. Lampros and story consultant Charlotte Zwerin, two old pros in cinema verite circles, to trim 350 hours down to a crisp 98 minutes.

Thursday's event -- a "friend-raising" program that will offer information on the Tulsa-based Clubhouse, a social and vocational rehabilitation program for adults with serious mental illness -- is completely booked and no more tickets are available.

However, "West 47th Street" will be shown two more times at the Westby Cinema -- at 6:15 p.m. Friday and 2 p.m. Saturday. Admission to those shows is $7 for adults; $5 for seniors and students.