I saw this delightful little film at our local "art house" cinema this weekend. It's a light, airy but entertaining work from Errol Morris, who apparently is actually a friend of the film's subject, Elsa Dorfman. Elsa Dorfman is a photographer of some renown, who truly carved a niche for herself when she began doing portraits on the amazing large format Polaroids. She's now staring retirement in the face because Polaroid is no longer making the film she needs. Morris has caught her at a time of looking back, of reflection on her career and life. She's a bit melancholy but also cheerful. Dorfman is just an interesting subject to spend time with. She's a delightfully quirky lady who offers refreshingly honest and unpretentious observations about art (mostly hers). This is not a philosophical film...it's more about capturing the life and enthusiasms of a well-known, if not quite famous, photographer. That she happened to be great friends with many Beat artists, particularly Ginsberg, is an added plus, because she has some delightful stories to share.

This is an easy, conversation movie about art, an artist, and the life of an artist. It's not glamorous, but it also doesn't wallow in "oh, the suffering one must endure for art." Dorfman is a practical person. Morris gently prods her for insights...but there's nothing here that's too biting or cutting. We get to see lots of her portraits, and many are indeed delightful. This was a feel-good movie...brisk and breezy and nice to look at. I do very much recommend it.

This film's runtime was only 76 minutes but felt like the longest film ever made. Watch on 2x speed if you can, might make it more bearable to sit through.

I do really enjoy the subject matter however. While watching this you assuredly get a sense that Morris really respects the art of photography and of the vintage Polaroid, as he portrayed Mrs. Dorfman under the most awestruck, humble, and reverent lens he could have mustered. For this I give him credit, as the works of art do speak volumes of beauty in their own way, and evoke that nostalgic feeling that's impossible to put into words.

My major critique here is with the pacing and content. In Morris's earlier (and better) films, there is just more to them in every way. More people sharing their perspectives, more to the story, more content, more to absorb. In this, it's ONLY Mrs. Dorfman, for 76 minutes. While she is certainly not unbearable to watch or listen to, I would've greatly preferred either a break from her, or just a smaller dose of her altogether -- a shorter film. Heck, at least a different location! Over half the film is just her in that same room.

Finally at almost an hour into this never-ending film, we get to the good stuff: the "B-sides". She takes 2 photos of each client, and they pick the one they like better. So she has built up an enormous collection of the "rejects" and keeps them in her home. Cool concept, but I think the film should have just started there, and been only 20 minutes long. The first hour feels almost extraneous, other than perhaps the Bob Dylan part and the parents' death -- that was pretty emotional.

The music was absolutely beautiful, huge credit to Paul Leonard-Morgan. It definitely fit the theme with its minimalist feel.

Overall, the story of this woman is fascinating and the editing and music were good, but the content needed more variety, or just less runtime. It was difficult to even make it through the whole thing, surprised I did.

A peacefully satisfying and nicely edited off-camera interview which reveals the life and life's work of a portrait photographer, most of whose work was uniquely captured using one of the 5 (or so) huge 20x24 inch Polaroid cameras. Her portrait sittings consisted of two poses, and having lovingly saved the print not chosen/purchased by each client, she reflects on these 'b- side' but powerful images beginning in the early 70's of everyday people, a few of the famous, and many of herself and her family.