Adi questions Commander Amir Siahaan, one of the death squad leaders responsible for his brother’s death during the Indonesian genocide, in Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary The Look of Silence. Courtesy of Drafthouse Films and Participant Media

AURORA | In months of watching the trial of Aurora theater shooter James Holmes work toward its conclusion, many facets of tragedy have become clearer in my mind.

One that’s particularly simple yet revelatory to me: To look at an unspeakably horrific act just from its up-close, grisly details is difficult — to see it from victims who carry on in the years that come after is a measure beyond that.

Adi questions Commander Amir Siahaan, one of the death squad leaders responsible for his brother’s death during the Indonesian genocide, in Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary The Look of Silence. Courtesy of Drafthouse Films and Participant Media
Adi questions Commander Amir Siahaan, one of the death squad leaders responsible for his brother’s death during the Indonesian genocide, in Joshua Oppenheimer’s documentary The Look of Silence. Courtesy of Drafthouse Films and Participant Media

This is the primary reason why Joshua Oppenheimer has managed to eclipse his fantastic film “The Act of Killing” — hailed by many, including yours truly, as one of the greatest documentaries of all time — with an even stronger look at the Indonesian genocide in “The Look of Silence.”

Both films begin with a simple on-screen explanation of the systematic killing of hundreds of thousands of Indonesians deemed to be communists in the 1960s — how the government and society in general have continued to perpetuate the lies and propaganda that led to the deaths of countless innocent people.

But Oppenheimer now turns his lens to the victims. An old mother, caring for her frail husband, emotionally recounts the death of their son. That son’s younger brother, Adi, is now an optometrist attempting to reconcile life in a world where his older brother’s death is just one of thousands that were cruel, unjustified and explained away.

There are still moments in which former death squad leaders are made to answer for their crimes, always rhetorically and never in any actual court of law. But “Look” shows us more about how the society has never made peace with what happened. One scene reveals a schoolhouse where students are indoctrinated with tales of communist cruelty; one child who has been told differently appears discombobulated when he’s “corrected” and told that he’s been lied to about that history.

Another scene, built from Indonesian TV footage, brings the audience to a talk show promoting the government’s anti-communist message — a sort of “Maury” for vigilante-led atrocity.

In months of watching the trial of Aurora theater shooter James Holmes work toward its conclusion, many facets of tragedy have become clearer in my mind.

One that’s particularly simple yet revelatory to me: To look at an unspeakably horrific act just from its up-close, grisly details is difficult — to see it from victims who carry on in the years that come after is a measure beyond that.

Another aspect of “Look” that eclipses “Act” is that Oppenheimer provides greater context for the anti-communist killings. In “Look,” the killers simply said they were drawing inspiration from violent gangster movies from Hollywood. But “Look” brings us an intimate look at Kemat, a survivor who leads Adi to the banks of a river where hundreds were torn apart by machetes, their body parts tossed into the water to wash away.

Kemat’s explanation of this atrocity? “We did this because America taught us to hate communists,” he says, noting that justice will likely never come from the Indonesian government or war crimes court at The Hague. “It is up to God to punish the killers.”

Adi doesn’t seem content to leave it up to a higher power. His work in improving others’ vision is an apt analogy for his efforts to speak with the now-elderly death squad members and tell their families of their hidden shame. One killer’s daughter, hearing the truth for the first time, asks Adi politely for his forgiveness.

“The Look of Silence” even stands above “Act of Killing” in terms of cinematography. The camera work does an even better job of contrasting the beauty of the agrarian land and the ugliness of its human history.

Oppenheimer has put together yet another vital piece of documentary film that ranks highly among the canon of big-screen nonfiction. It is not for the faint of heart but demands of the viewer’s mind and emotions in the best of ways.

“The Look of Silence” is rated PG-13. One hour, 43 minutes. Five stars out of five. Opens Friday at the Sie FilmCenter and Alamo Drafthouse Littleton.