Here's the man-bites-dog story of this week in movies: "Maxed Out," a riveting, amusing, enlightening and emotionally affecting movie by a guy you've never heard of, about -- wait for it -- the consumer debt crisis.
As unlikely as it sounds that someone has made a taut and entertaining film about credit, that's precisely what James D. Scurlock has done, delivering a punchy, well-reasoned account of America's huge problem with national and consumer debt, how we got there and what the stakes are. In this swiftly moving documentary that sweeps the nation from Las Vegas to Tennessee to New York, Scurlock interviews experts in the credit crisis, both from Harvard and the school of hard knocks; the film often humorously delivers the bad news: that banks prey on the young, poor and chronically late-paying; that they're in cahoots with other powerful forces in government and business (such as the burgeoning field of debt collection); that no one seems to care. But when Scurlock turns his lens on the people behind the statistics, the life-and-death stakes of the credit industry's sleazy practices become all too clear.
"Maxed Out" is a film all high school seniors should see. And their parents. And their siblings, neighbors, best friends and acquaintances. You should see it, too.
-- Ann Hornaday (March 9, 2007)
Contains nothing objectionable.
For everyone who has ever decided that paying the minimum was enough, or that handbags -- or a home-equity loan, or the paycheck advance place -- were the answer to your cash-flow problem, James Scurlock would like to have a word with you. His documentary, "Maxed Out," opening on Friday, examines the state of America's ever-emptying wallets, dwindling savings accounts and staggering debt, both personal and national.
Why did you make the movie?
I was very curious: As a country and as individuals, why can't we get out of debt?
Do you hope to see results, kind of the "Super Size Me" effect?
I don't think my expectations are that high. ... What I'd really like is to have a debate. The financial industry has refused to talk.
How much of the problem stems from predatory practices, and how much is people failing to educate themselves about credit?
If you walk into the grocery store, you have to believe the piece of meat you buy isn't going to kill you. You don't have to be a scientist when you buy a piece of meat. Most people aren't financial experts, and even if they were, like Elizabeth
Warren in the film, she can't make sense of her financial statement. We talked to an MIT professor who couldn't make sense of double cycle billing. An MIT professor! When someone walks into a bank, can they have a reasonable expectation of being treated fairly or not? And if not, that's a terrible thing for this country.
The guy in the pawn shop had a lot of compassion for his customers. Did you include him as a model of how to lend money ethically?
We wanted to film a pawn shop, because that's the bad guy, right? [But] Brian turned out to be this philosophical guy. And, he's regulated as to how much he can charge, what rates he can charge.
You focused on those who got into debt almost through no fault of their own. Why didn't you include a story of someone who just likes shoes too much?
We started out focusing on people who had gotten into debt like that, like the realtor who can't actually afford her house, and Robin Leach. That being said, what really changed in this country is that the financial industry has changed the way credit is sold and really pushed it at people -- college students, senior citizens, the poor, sometimes the very poor.
Did you have to borrow money to make the movie?
No. ... I used my own money, and I had one investor. ... Credit cards were used to secure hotel rooms and rent cars, but that's it. Variety said I did, but it's not true. They were like, "Yeah, James Scurlock maxed out his cards," but no.
--Kristen Page-Kirby (Express, March 8. 2007)
