The ingenius idea behind 'David Holzman's Diary' was to take the popular 1960s trend of cinema verité, seen in films such as D. A. Pennebaker's 'Don't Look Now', a Bob Dylan documentary, and make it into fiction. David Holzman is a cineaste who begins filming his own life, alienating his friends and lover in an attempt to 'become cinema' himself.
The film doesn't always work brilliantly but it is a fairly unique experience to watch, and Holzman's downward spiral of obsession can be quite fascinating as he destroys his real-life relationships for the sake of the camera. The strongest example of this is his relationship with his girlfriend, Penny, who abhors being filmed despite her day job as a model. This occupation seems to make Holzman determined to capture her photogenity and convince his audience of how beautiful she is, but his incessant filming of her - particularly when she's sleeping naked - ultimately leaves him alone. His obsession becomes frustrating, particularly as he insists on filming his apologetic phone calls to her, which she blatantly is aware of, further ruining any chance he has of winning her back.
Constantly referencing art-films and showing off his knowledge, Holzman becomes more and more pathetic in our eyes, unable to establish any reality. An encounter with a sexually ambiguous and flirtatious stranger seems to leave him simultaneously excited and repulsed, although we feel the only excitement comes from the fact that he is filming their meeting and not that he will attempt any real intimacy. He takes great pride in his outfit that allows him to carry all his equipment simultaneously but only seems to irritate everyone else that appears on camera.
There are some interesting shots independent of the narrative, particularly the collection of old-folk sitting in the park captured in a lengthy take by cameraman Michael Wadley - and it's important to note that Holzman, or the actor L. M. Kit Carson who portrays him, is not always the cameraman. One of the most admirable elements of the film is its ability to trick us into believing in Holzman and his visual diary. Also, very cleverly, although the recording of the diary appears to be a masochistic activity, Holzman is rewarded with an audience, no doubt all of whom will find him fascinating.
It's a complex film operating on many levels and worth investigating, as it also captures an early example of ultra-independent filmmaking of the variety that is so much more accessible with modern technology. More interesting to me, however, was the supporting short that featured on some theatrical releases of the film and the Second Run DVD that I watched. This film, 'My Girlfriend's Wedding', is of deceptive simplicity, shot in almost a single day, when director Jim McBride's English girlfriend is preparing to marry a man she's never met in order to stay in the US.
McBride was already married and unable to help his girlfriend, but he still takes the opportunity to dissect her, with the simple idea of having her empty her handbag and explain all its contents. The extremely revealing task offers up fascinating results, as we learn of the son she left behind in England from a too-young pregnancy, her trip to the States via Canada and the suitcase full of her possesion which still resides in a safety deposit box there, and her flirtatious, irresponsible attitude to life that has left her with the housekeys of various men she's met since arriving in New York.
The film doesn't just capture a single woman, but manages to articulate the modern position of women in the 1960s. This is a woman who was able to flee her responsibilities, be sexually liberated and financially irresponsible, and have political motivations and ethical ideals at a time when this was just beginning. The man she marries, an irritating, outspoken hippy, helps to place her in context - she's not as extremist as him, for example - but also exemplifies her desperation for a sense of stability in New York now she's found happiness with McBride.
The film also shows the wedding, the subsequent muted celebration, her failure to arrive on time for her new job, and finally, in fast-forward, a trip that she and McBride take. All of these extra details help to show their situation and sense of morality and responsibility. It's an excellent portrait of young people in the 1960s. I still marvel at the ingenius simplicity of the handbag scene.
Watch both of them - make sure you watch the Second Run DVD. In fact, everyone should know about Second Run, one of the greatest distributors in the country, helping to reintroduce excellent Eastern European art films and American independents to an audience that will have heard of these films but never had the opportunity to see them before. So many of the best films I've seen recently have been released by them, so keep up the good work.
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