77/100

Analyzes itself, really—a bit too much so for my taste in David's anti-climactic soliloquy of frustration. Also, you now have to keep reminding yourself that back then there weren't a million people talking to cameras every day and uploading the results to YouTube, that the very existence of this diary was meant to be representative of an aberrant mindset. (Points for prescience, obviously.) Though at the same time no you don't, because among its many other virtues it makes a fascinating time capsule of New York in the '60s, walking a wavering, improbable line between solipsism and urban ethnography. Jesus I've already used "soliloquy," "aberrant," "prescience," "solipsism" and "ethnography" LOOK AT WHAT THIS MOVIE DOES TO A PERSON. Landmark achievement, still great fun and food for thought.

What still amazes me about David Holzman’s Diary is that despite all the surface efforts to mimic direct cinema documentaries, it not only remains a true snapshot of the period but one of the most careful constructed and staged dramas that I know.

Shocked -- I mean s-h-o-c-k-e-d -- that this didn't end with a "Hey guys, please make sure to like and subscribe! And let me know what you thought down in the comments!"

palpably voyeuristic, predicting the very nature of social media and the perils of giving anyone the means of capturing moving images on an amateur level -- some of the very best footage of new york city of its era, not only because of how plentiful it is, but how McBride's camera captures the rhythms and motions of the city's pedestrians and vehicles, a near constant energy that most other films set in (or documenting) the city seldom mimic

I was not a fan of the title character, but of course, I wasn't supposed to be. As films about filmmaking go, this one wasn't bad. I appreciated the way the film approached its treatment of women. That is to say, the women in this film were treated badly, but it was suggesting this as a negative side of the process (either of filmmaking or of society in general).

I saw this at NYU Film school and love loved loved it. Saw it several times because I was fascinated by the idea of obsessively filming your life. This was in the late 60's. 45 years later I sat next to the Director at a dinner party and was able to share my admiration for his work. How about that.

This mockumentary is both a remarkable investigation into the art of documentary making and a fascinating snapshot of a place and people. That's one of the reason why it doesn't feel dated despite countless such "documentaries" now being available. It is about a young independent filmmaker who's lost his job and is expecting to be called up for military service (Vietnam). He decides to film his life day and night, not just the practical stuff but also his thoughts and feelings. That gives this false work a sense of poignancy and loss that's hard to shake off even when it's over. This is great drama and director Jim McBride knows it.

...and in the end, David Holzman becomes the infamous Zodiac killer.

From all the weird experimental films I've seen, this one is both the most interesting and the much creepier of them all. In about no time, this goes from a somewhat quirky mockumentary to one of those cheap looking final videos made by a killer before he goes on a spree.

The way its frame, the freezing shots when he's just randomly chasing someone, the cinema verite style - they all add up to an otherwise boring story for most of its runtime.

In the end, if you have nothing else to watch, you may spend 78 mins watching this odd of a feature.

As with most works of the avant-garde, it's what goes on in the viewer's mind more than what's actually on the screen and Jim McBride's meta-documentary gives us ample time to ruminate on how the world has gone to shit.

BONUS: the "actor" who "portrays" the filmmaker would have a baby with Karen Black and that kid would grow up to star in PARIS, TEXAS.

Some films are historical,

and so we doff our cap.

Some films should be masterworks

and turn out to be crap.

Some are influential,

setting terms for those that follow.

So we forgive their self-regard,

though sexist, trite, and hollow.