Long-time film editor Hope Litoff is turning the camera very much on herself and her personal life in her directorial debut, “32 Pills: My Sister’s Suicide,” by framing the suicide of her depressive, artist sister. The documentary, which is showing in select theaters and premieres on HBO December 7th, is primarily a tale of surviving a loved one’s suicide but it is also a poignant story of two sisters, a subtle portrait of the connection between mental illness and art and also a revealing look at the perils of personal filmmaking.
In fact, while making the film, Litoff, a recovering alcoholic, begins to drink again and we, the audience are there to observe her first drink and her spiral downward as she is consumed by her project and her sadness over losing her sibling. But, thankfully, there’s a final film to document her gradual climb out of her morass.
According to Litoff, for every suicide, there are six survivors, people who are “desperately struggling to answer the unanswerable.” For them, as for herself, she hopes to “lift the stigma of mental illness and suicide.”
Salon spoke with Litoff about her devastatingly sad but ultimately redeeming film.
You worked for many years as a film editor; had you ever thought of making a film about Ruth and her work when she was alive?
Yes, after freshman year of college I took a summer filmmaking class at Tisch School of the Arts in New York City. Our first assignment was to make a short film about someone we admired and naturally I chose Ruth as my subject. I remember the results well; it was quite awful. The interview of Ruth had a very obvious compact Fresnel light stand to left of the frame and rarely was a shot in focus. I edited it on 1/2 inch VHS tape and the finished product had glitches throughout. I often speak of Ruth’s impossibly high standards and I guess a bit of that is in me because I threw all the tapes away when the class was over. I would give anything to have that rare footage of 21-year old Ruth back talking about her photography.
You slipped back into alcoholism during the making of the film. From the beginning, were you wary that that could happen?
I was not at all wary that I might slip back into drinking during the making of the film. I was quite clueless. I think I had a false sense of confidence about my fragile sobriety because I had made it through my Mother’s death from cancer in 2007, Ruth’s suicide in 2008 and father’s passing from a sudden heart attack barely 2 years after that. During those trying times it never occurred to me to drink. Looking back, I believe I was blocking off my feelings and that when I started opening up I couldn’t handle the flood of emotions I felt in a healthy way. Although I physically took the first drink during the making of the film my relapse can be traced back to years earlier when I should have pursued support and help for the hard emotions I was desperate to avoid. I by no means had to relapse but it is only in hindsight that I can see this. I never would have started the film if I knew that losing my sobriety would be part of the outcome. I put my family and loved ones through hell.
You film that first drink. It could be perceived that you wanted it to happen for the sake of the film. Please parse that perception!
No, I did not take the drink for the sake of the film. I went into the project knowing I would make personal video diaries with my iPhone. I have many hours of private footage and made a promise to myself that I would be as honest as I could be — just as Ruth was raw and honest as an artist. At the time, I was obsessed in every way, reading every page of her journals, every email on her computer, and every note in her volumes of datebooks. I did the same with the footage, filming everything including some of my darkest moments. Knowing the challenges of addiction full well, I would never throw away almost 17 years of sobriety as a gimmick for a film. It was a painful time for me, and this was an honest response.
I heard your producer mention the "perils of personal filmmaking." There are also more subtle, creative perils, such as narcissism or too much attachment to personal elements that won't resonate with audiences; how did you navigate those?
I did my best to make a film that would resonate with audiences and hopefully lift the stigma around talking about mental illness, suicide and addiction. I made myself vulnerable in the hopes of creating something larger than myself. The great thing about films is that there are many out there — if one isn't right for you, you can always watch another. I don’t believe any attempt at art can begin with trying to please everyone. I say, “attempt” — beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I can only hope that my opening myself up could help the people like me who have also lost a loved one to suicide. The risk is worth the reward.
Did you turn to other personal filmmakers for advice?
Yes, I was lucky enough to get advice from brave personal filmmakers such as Judith Helfand [“Blue Vinyl”l], Kathy Leichter [“A Day’s Work, a Day’s Pay”] and Dempsey Rice [“Daughter of Suicide”]. Without their trailblazing and encouragement I don’t believe I would have been able to make my film.
NYC has implemented a campaign to tackle mental health issues. What are your thoughts on the city's initiative and has your film been a part of it?
I am honored that the First Lady of New York Chirlane McCray introduced a screening of “32 Pills: My Sister’s Suicide” at a recent screening at Bellevue and look forward to working with her very important THRIVE NYC initiative.
What do you think Ruth would have thought of the film?
I think she would be happy that more people would be able to enjoy her art. She was always bold and honest about her struggles with depression and would be pleased to help anyone she could.
Knowing that no one can achieve "closure" with such things, where has the film put you emotionally when you think of your sister's life and death?
I am still working through my grief. I know I will never find true closure but am optimistic about moving forward in a healthy fashion.
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