One documentary that drove me crazy was the one about the White family in West Virginia. They are basically a family of hoodlums, criminals and junkies that terrorize their county with nonsense. While the documentary (whose producers included Johnny Knoxville of Jackass fame) occasionally tries to humanize these awful people, it is far more interested in catching them in ironic contradictions.

Like the new mother who just snorted a crushed Oxycontin pill off the nightstand in the hospital room while her newborn sleeps 10 feet away. In the next scene she is chain-smoking, being driven home after her baby was taken away by child services, crying about someone “strange” holding her child.

Yeah, we get the joke. The filmmakers are laughing at the hillbillies who are too stupid to realize they’re being mocked. It almost makes them seem more sympathetic. And that is just one of the film’s failures.

In the proud redneck wilderness inhabited by these freaks, a dna paternity test is beyond necessary each time one of these delightful ladies gets pregnant, half the time to figure out which distant cousin is responsible.

Right, I know I sound like some Northeastern elitist, but I feel a little entitled. If filmmakers are going to glorify the horrible actions of brutish slobs and continue to foster a culture of personality and false reality, I think I should get on the proverbial high horse and complain.