How important is the director, anyway? In this film, made in the politically tumultuous times of the late 60s where questions of social organization were prime conflicts, asks that question by making a movie that turns the camera away from the action and only begs to reveal the director, William Greaves. It is an important work, as it shows like no other movie shows the difficulties in blocking, organizing, and setting the scene; it reveals the role of the crew, something most directors frankly would like to disappear completely and that the invisibility of is essential for suspending disbelief; and it also puts into consideration the role of performance and scripting and how they match/don't match reality and what that has to say about how the director ultimately influences reality (if at all).<br /><br />The documentary, or pseudo-documentary, or fictional narrative (whichever you prefer, via your interpretations of the themes) has its brain in the over-educated, over-intellectual crew, its guts in the lost performers struggling to understand the vague and ambiguous directions, and its heart in the director, who stands in as the desire to portray, to represent, to express without any idea how to do any of those things or why he wants to do it. It's a film that purposefully repeats banalities just to see if they can become more than banalities. It's a film that sometimes shows the multiple shots simultaneously, just to leave the editing to the audience and also reveal how disturbingly different shots change perspective.<br /><br />It's an important work, and something that everyone interested in the industry and process of film-making should watch and understand. It, like many experimental films, has no real mass-audience appeal--it's not for them. It's for the industry, and its for the 60s, asking what to do with a group-effort medium that still relies on a single "voice" and "author".<br /><br />--PolarisDiB