In 1964, 28-year-old Kitty Genovese was stabbed to death in NYC while screaming for help. The New York Times reported 38 people saw/heard/knew what was happening, but did nothing; thus symbolizing urban apathy. Since then, her brother has been on a crusade (which included losing both legs in Vietnam) to understand why this happened. And that's where the film falls short: neither we, nor his family, understand why 50 years later, he cannot let go - regardless of whether the city was apathetic or not. The documentary's importance is splendidly described here; to me, William Genovese borders on masochism.
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