MisterWhiplash They're not like us entirely, but they're just like us in an essential way: they want to have a good, solid profession (yes, it is as owners and workers at a pet cemetery), and they love(d) their pets. There's an essential part of the doc where a woman talks about the 'spirit' and how when a body dies the spirit must go elsewhere. Although the topic of if there is heaven or hell or any kind of afterlife can be debated till days end, a film like Gates of Heaven, Errol Morris' debut, gives the very clear notion that an animal does have a spirit, because the human being that cares for it has a level of love and compassion and just sheer avoidance of loneliness that a spirit must be present. Life becomes all the greater of importance when loss comes, as a cycle comes for those who have loved and lost, and it's just the same with animals as with people. You don't have to be an eccentric, like some may be (or may not be depending on your definition of eccentric), to know what life is, at the least when it's gone.There's not one person in Morris' bizarrely funny and expertly unobtrusive look at the lives and work of those involved with pet cemeteries who is without some kind of spirit, and in all their slightly strange (the guy who works at the meat processing plant), sort of mockable in the Christopher Guest sense (there's one guy, the ex-insurance agent son of the cemetery worker, who goes by the "Double As and Double Rs" as rules for life and has trophies on his desk when he had job applicants for encouragement), and cheerfully quaint (the old lady who complains about her son, and wishes she could drive) appearances on film, they're very much alive. It's not exactly a satire, though one might think it was an off-key one if it were a mockumentary. 'Gates' is layered in ways that many documentaries try to shy away from, and at the same time Morris has a definite knack for presenting the people objectively- or however much a documentary filmmaker, or any filmmaker, can present them 'as is' in their testimonials- while having a very subtle hand with subjectivity with the camera. It's obvious Morris didn't have much money to make the film (it took Herzog and eating his shoe to help get the film released), but there are little moments of invention, like the spinning newspaper to the headline, or the unflinching angles on the ex-plot-of-land for the dead pets which is now next to a highway, or just simple pans or having one man- the musician son of the Harberts family- listening to the music he's recorded.Morris has lots of things like that going on, but it's really all a series of stories and personal accounts of two sides of pet cemetery workers/owners: the completely heartfelt and crippled Floyd McClure, who due to not getting all the paperwork right, despite having all of the heart he could muster up, lost his pet cemetery and all the animals were dug up. Seeing this gentle man of conscience is one part of Morris's layering, as he's a sincere individual who truly loves the animals he worked to find resting places (and despises the equally passionate, crafty but laughable rendering plant owner), and with a fatal flaw at work that he trusted animals more than people. But then there's the mixed flip side of the Harberts family, who took the dead pets previously buried with McClure, where the patriarch is a consummate professional, his kids either have not much interest in the outside world except their own creativity (the musician), or have accepted their lot in life as a worker for the family (the ex-insurance salesman). These are the kinds of people that one would've not really seen on Six Feet Under, if only because in this case suggestion, from the interviews, says probably more than the deep character analysis of the show.And Morris deftly mixes these two stories with some people who've had their pets buried, or knew people who had their pets buried, at the cemeteries. The woman who says the part about the pet having a spirit is one, but there's also the woman who tries to get her little dog to sing, or the one who talks about the grief she had with the death of her dog, and at the end of her tips to help save one's dog the husband says "neutered." There are close-ups of the words on the grave-sites of the animals that ring this tragic-comic tone of the film ever so much, that there's enough in just having a memory left, of remembrances for these creatures that lived as short as two years and as long as sometimes twenty, for those who were closest to them. Gates of Heaven, while not quite Morris's best film (Fog of War and especially Thin Blue Line are higher up, though not by a lot) is a worthwhile 80 minute observation of the shaky but absolute reasons why that people need pets, and in effect just need each other period.

Woodyanders Documentaries can be either very dull or very interesting depending on their subject matter and how said subject matter is presented by the filmmakers. Now, a California pet cemetery most certainly qualifies as a truly eccentric subject for a documentary; it's so inherently strange a topic that it requires a certain amount of taste and restraint on the filmmakers' part to seem serious and involving instead of like some laughable and ridiculous freakshow. Fortunately, producer/director/editor Errol Morris handles this particular subject -- a pet cemetery, the cemetery's owner and employees, and the various people who have buried their deceased pets in the cemetery -- in a commendably delicate, subdued and respectful manner, thus making this strikingly offbeat and original one-of-a-kind feature a genuinely remarkable achievement. Morris wisely shoots the numerous folks he interviews in an appropriately plain, prosaic and unadorned straightforward style, allowing these engagingly colorful individuals to speak at great length, sometimes quite clearly, sometimes rather haltingly, always directly to the camera. There's a welcome and praiseworthy paucity of phony, affected pretension and heightened cloying preciousness evident throughout; however, there's still plenty of authentic heart-wrenching sentiment to be savored in this picture. It's here in spades and is made all the more poignant because it's presented with such great unwavering conviction and a real sense of purpose. While this highly unconventional is definitely out of the ordinary, it's thankfully never really bizarre or grotesque. Instead, it's just different -- and it's this astonishing differentness which makes "Gates of Heaven" a uniquely moving and riveting gem.

tfrizzell A totally over-rated documentary feature about a pet cemetery in California. The film focuses on the people who run the cemetery, those owners who have lost pets and always tries to win its audience over with philosophical questioning of God, nature, existence and what happens to beings when they give up the ghost forever. In the end the film is not near as smart as it would like to be. "Gates of Heaven" is an odd viewing experience. The people interviewed are quirky and some border on psychotic and disturbed. I found some of the people in the film "drunk on themselves". In other words they thought they were much more intelligent than they really were. The film does not work as a philosophy lesson (check out any work from Terrence Malick instead for that) and it does not work as a comedy (sometimes it is unclear if the people are serious or just playing games with the film-makers). In the end the production is interesting, but far from anything remarkable. As a documentary it works all right, but as a film it has shortcomings several miles long. Always praised by Chicago critic Roger Ebert, "Gates of Heaven" is more smoke and mirrors than actual substance. 4 stars out of 5.

faarupj-1 At first glance, Gates of Heaven appears to be a documentary about the lives of people that run pet cemetaries. On second glance, you realize you are witnessing a visual essay on the subject of death and dying, and how these average folk deal with it.There are esesentially three parts to the film. All deal with either the struggle to build a pet cemetery or maintaining a pet cemetery. The most interesting segment is with a family who runs a successful cemetery in the desert of California. You see generations of a family that has done nothing but run this business. They explain the philosophy behind why they choose to bury pets, and why pets deserve burial just as humans do.Morris lets the camera do all the work. With the exception of two shots every other one is static. A talking head documentary that could probably fit the definition exactly. Morris knows when exactly to inject humor into the film, just enough to keep you interested. If you saw this film nowadays, you would expect it to be on Lifetime or some other obscure cable channel. With a third glance and possibly a fourth, you can see the message Morris is trying to get across. Everyone has a way of dealing with death. It is just how you deal with it that determines how comfortable you are with it.