In the Summer of 2016, the small town of Rutland, Vermont was thrown into chaos. Then Mayor Chris Louras announced that the town would be be housing 100 Syrian refugees. This was one of the few cities in the U.S. to do so, and while some citizens were thrilled and got to work right away, many were unhappy with the decision. Filmmaker Jennifer Maytorena Taylor sought to document both the love and rancor that this decision created, but the resulting film ends up exploring much more.
Taylor wisely doesn’t take a very firm stance on either side of the argument. While she doesn’t shy away from showing a few vehement debates, she always gives both sides a chance to calmly state their case. It’s clear that many of those as part of the “Rutland First” group are bigoted and only stand on ignorant fear of the “other.” But others, including Stacie Griffin who becomes the focus of the doc, make the valid point that Rutland already overlooks its poor who are struggling with a widespread opioid addiction problem; what sense does it make to add more to that already difficult situation? Many also claim that the mayor made this decision without any input from the citizens themselves.
Like many things, For the Love of Rutland‘s subject takes a sharp turn after the 2016 election, specifically as the Muslim travel ban goes into effect. Only one or two refugee families end up in Rutland, but the effects of the program are long-term. Mayor Louras is summarily voted out in 2017 and replaced by his right wing adversary. Taylor decides to stick around and continue to explore issues of class and drug addiction in Rutland by moving her focus more specifically to Stacie and her family.
The film ends up being much more fascinating because of this shift. Rather than an exhausting look at this microcosm of the fervent American political divide that, frankly, we all get enough of in our daily lives, we see a more personal look at how someone can change. Stacie starts out arguing that she “doesn’t see color” when her foster mom presents her with white privilege and complains of the local governments ignoring of her and others like her. She lives in poverty, barely able to pay bills and take care of her son while she and her husband both struggle with staying clean and finding a way to pay for their Suboxone, a treatment as addictive as what she’s trying to get clean of.
Over the course of the film, we see Stacie begin to find that helping others helps herself. She gets a job supervising at-risk youth and volunteers for local committees helping those like her. She begins to see that the struggles of the refugee family in Rutland are so much worse than her own, and finds herself inspired by their perseverance. By time the credits roll, it seems that Stacie has become good friends with them despite her initial fears of their coming. The film ends up documenting the gradual change that we can all hope the most hateful Americans may go through in the next few years.
Taylor has created an excellent slice of Americana that isn’t afraid to look at the warts, examining deep-seated racial fears in the overwhelmingly white community. She finds both the good and rational as well as the disgustingly bigoted in nearly all her subjects; the movie exudes a tenderness for all people and treats everyone with respect. I found myself extremely engaged and interested in seeing even more of where all these people go–I want to know how all Rutlanders are doing now in 2020, from those struggling with poverty and addiction to those in fear of Muslim invaders to the refugee family themselves. I admittedly expected to be weary of watching anti-immigration people argue with others for 90 minutes, but if Taylor can make this story fascinating I will anxiously await what she does next.
For the Love of Rutland is directed by Jennifer Maytorena Taylor and is currently making its way through the (virtual) film festival circuit. Watch it now through the Atlanta Film Festival’s virtual catalog.