Best write up I have seen
Candidates for the National Film Registry:
The Wild One and Gimme Shelter
[Written response to Ms. Lund's lecture, from Stanley Goldstein,whom the film's credits list as providing "Special Help" on "Gimme Shelter"]
November 10, 1998
Dear Ms. Lund:
While doing research on film archives and preservation I found the introduction you wrote regarding the nomination of “Gimme Shelter” to the National Film Registry. As it happens it is specifically that film that inspired my research. The film certainly is deserving of the application of the best available technology to assure its availability in the best possible condition for future generations. I have informed Albert Maysles of the nomination. For some reason he knew nothing about it.
I was intimately and intricately involved with the Maysles’1, as participant and observer, in the making of the film and in the events it documents; from the planning of the first shoot through to setting up theaters nationally for its exhibition. Because I filled many roles – sound recordist, production manager, music mixer, contract negotiator, consultant, and advisor – the Maysles offered to give me whatever credit(s) in the film I wished. I thought it would be unseemly to be listed in so many categories and doing that would, as well, diminish the value of the credits others received for their contributions. So I chose to be listed once as “Special Help”. I want you to have that background so that you will give credence to the comments that follow and because I am simultaneously soliciting your assistance.
It is easy to understand why the film is paired with “The Wild One” and to wish it weren’t so. Because the films are used as levers to raise issues of great societal moment it is important to draw the comparisons and frame the argument as inclusively and accurately as possible. One created a context. The other was created by its context.
The Wild One’s roots are in a long “B” movie tradition of exaggeration, exploitation, sensationalism, and glorification of violence and brutality. It used reports of a real event as the skeleton for a fictional construct that attempted to create a sense of immediacy and reality. Accuracy, historical truth, was not only not the objective, it was of no interest.
The other is an exposition of real events captured as they occurred. Gimme Shelter’s skeleton is constructed of real bones. It is a primary source, not perhaps of the whole truth of Altamont, but certainly closer to the truth than much of the sensational, misleading, and often inaccurate reporting of the event. “Gimme Shelter” does not try to assign responsibility or affix blame. If it did it would not be a Maysles’ film. Rather it lets those involved reveal themselves. It displays the development and denouement of a modern tragedy. In giving us those tools it demands and permits us, the viewers, to make judgements about the event and about those caught up and defined by it. And, it inspires us, as it has you, to ask uncomfortable, but important questions.
I hope the following information will help you to understand what occurred, how the situation at Altamont developed, and the aftermath. I believe that a careful review of the film, my comments, and other available sources (to which I would be happy to point or introduce you)2 will lead you to reconsider some of the “facts” that have been widely accepted as truth, on which some of your introduction has been based.
First: a minor point. Describing Brando’s gang as beatniks, obnoxious or otherwise, is a disservice to Kerouac, Ginsberg, Corso, Cassidy, et al. The Beats were among the most peaceful of people. Many subscribed to the Buddhist tenets of non-violence. Their drug indulgences made them part of a criminal class along with jazz musicians, other artists, poor blacks, etc. They were vilified as pacifist dropouts, as antisocial, but not ever, to the best of my knowledge, as gang members or gangsters. If anything they were outcasts not outlaws. Gang members would not have accepted the label of beatnik, any more than the Hells Angels would permit anyone to call them hippies.
Long before the ban on showings of “The Wild One” was lifted the outrages at Selma and other civil rights brutalities, Viet Nam protests and war scenes, Chicago’s madness, assassinations, motorcycle gang excesses, and other non-fiction violence were ubiquitous on television, in newspapers, on campus, and in the streets. It wasn’t suspected of lurking somewhere out there. It was known. It was real. It was experienced in one way or another by everyone here and in England. That that was true doesn’t diminish the horror of Altamont, but the societal context in which “Gimme Shelter” was shown was very different from that of 1953.
As to “Gimme Shelter”:
Because the focus of the introduction is on the violence that is so graphically documented and to contributing factors; I will limit this mainly to those matters except to note that Mick said: “. . . behave in large gatherings.”
The film makers attempt, successfully I believe, to show a timeline, cutting back and forth between Stones’ concerts, travel, recording, and the simultaneous activities taking place across the continent where a near hysteria was developing.
A permit to hold the concert in Golden Gate Park, the site of many such events, was initially granted and then withdrawn. A deal for an alternate venue, at a site controlled by Filmways3, seemed secure, but was killed after equipment had been delivered. By then the time was very short and doing the concert had become a compulsion for a lot of people. They were committed.
There was no central control. The Stones weren’t there, though some of their management was and some of their crew. Others from the festival/rock & roll concert community and the San Francisco “scene” were loosely allied and pitching in. Mostly it was volunteers who wanted to help throw a party. They wanted to have a “Woodstock” where many thought it had rightfully belonged.
For what it’s worth I’m the guy who said, in a meeting at the Grateful Dead’s ranch, “What?’ You don’t have a lawyer?’ You guys will never make a deal for a site or get the permits.’ You don’t know how.” So the next morning I set out to get an attorney and got Melvin Belli.
There had been a lot of planning, all wasted. By the time the site at Altamont was secured, the deal done, legalities observed, and permits obtained, there were less than 24 hours till show time. The plan was: get as much stuff to the site as possible, put up as much of what fit that could be completed with whatever crew there was. Equipment was scattered all over the Bay Area – in storage, delivered to the wrong site4, on trucks headed in the wrong direction or simply stopped, somewhere near a telephone, awaiting instruction. Trucks were turned around, driven to Altamont over roads already crowded with people streaming to the speedway, unloaded, and then sent back to pick up more. A lot of the crew had already put in 24/36/48 hours. Some had gone home to get a little rest or had crashed wherever they were. Some survived on adrenaline. Others refueled with whatever they thought could provide the necessary propulsion.
Nobody knew what or who was coming or when it or they would arrive. The only thing known for sure was that somehow, one way or another the show would go on. Emotions ran high. There was a subtext of “we’ll show them, the establishment, the authorities that they can’t shut us down.” In retrospect, of course, everyone should have walked away. But, there was no one, no way to say STOP! NO! And, we shouldn’t forget that, in the aftermath of “Woodstock”, there was a general euphoria — more than a feeling — the sure knowledge that we, the rock & roll, be-in, wear a flower in your hair community had triumphed and could, in anarchy, find peace, and overcome with love any who had an interest in violence. Not everyone believed that. Some raised concerns about public safety, control, etc. Those voices were overwhelmed. Besides, they were concerns not solutions, soon lost in the hustle and the hurly-burly to get it on.
Some of the Grateful Dead and the Dead’s crew had long established relationships with some of the Hell’s Angels dating back to the time Ken Kesey had invited the Angels to come “play” with the Merry Pranksters. Over time they and other groups and promoters had worked out a system that kept down friction between the Angels and others at concerts and events. There would be an area set aside, roped off, frequently screened, that was Angel Land. What happened within that area was considered private business; not monitored or controlled by the promoter’s security. Right or wrong it was a working accommodation that was understood pretty universally in the Bay Area5. After all, the Angels liked to party and dance. They were coming to the shows, like it or not. You couldn’t legally, nor if you had good sense, refuse to sell them tickets to public events or prevent them from attending concerts in the park.
At outdoor events Angel Land was frequently set up near the generators or other critical equipment. The promoter would give them a few cases of beer and they would watch over the stuff. They were never asked to perform in a capacity that required interaction with others in attendance. Only the foolhardy would risk a confrontation with those watchers in order to collect souvenirs or play with the gear.
The Stones had given a free concert in Hyde Park, for a few hundred thousand people, as a memorial to Brian Jones. The English Hells Angels volunteered to be an “Honor Guard”. It was a lovely, peaceful day. So, it seemed natural to the Stones’ crew to ask them to perform that same or a similar function at the concert culminating the Stones’ US tour. Sam Cutler, the Stones’ Road/Production Manager asked Rock Scully, a Grateful Dead Road Manager and ex rider, to extend the invitation. He did. A meeting was arranged at which it was agreed that the Angels would have an area set aside for them (off downstage right), they would serve as Honor Guard and their other normal, “watchdog” function, and they would receive $500 worth of beer as a gratuity6. I don’t know whether the Angels were asked to sit on the edge of the stage, as Sonny Barger said they were.
As it happened the show was on the same day as a council meeting of the Bay Area Hells Angels’ Chapters. All of the Angels’ leadership attended that meeting in Oakland and therefore didn’t get out to Altamont till late in the afternoon, long after the violence had begun and had escalated. Some (many) of the group that was there, early in the day, were pledges who wanted to demonstrate their “qualifications” for membership. Had the Presidents, VPs, and other high ranking members been in attendance earlier things might not have gotten so out of control. When they did arrive, en mass, they drove right through the crowd to the stage where they parked their motorcycles. Eventually the crowd, under pressure from behind, pushed some of the bikes over or tried to move them out of the way. That inspired a whole series of confrontations and violent encounters.7 It’s rarely just one thing going wrong that causes a plane to crash or a ship to sink.
The Stones, on Haskell Wexler’s recommendation, had hired the Maysles to shoot their concert at Madison Square Garden, paying them $14,000. Fascinated by the Stones and the phenomena of their tour; Albert and David elected, with the Stones permission, of course, to travel with them and continue shooting with an as yet undefined objective. A small part of the Maysles expenses continued to be paid — meals when everyone ate together, some lodging and air travel — incidentals, the rest was on them. When it was decided that the Maysles would film the California free concert the Stones gave them an additional $129,000. All the other costs of making the film were borne by the Maysles, over $450,000, until it was nearly completed. Finally, Lenny Holtzer, a New York socialite and real estate mogul, invested in its distribution, providing finance to finish the movie.
In-as-much as the Stones didn’t sign releases until six months after the film was finished, they did have “veto” power or could, theoretically, have tried to effect the shape or content of the film. To their credit, they never attempted to exercise that power. They, individually and as a group, have always shown the greatest respect for the work and integrity of other artists.8 What do you suppose Variety or the New York Times would have said if they had killed the film?
Some others would not give releases unless minute changes were made, none were substantive — a word slurred beyond recognition, one side of a telephone conversation subsequently rerecorded. The film was initially rated “R”. To obtain a “PG” the word “f***” was eliminated and a few seconds of film were substituted to replace the image of a bare breasted woman sitting on someone’s shoulders. The Maysles dropped the word and the woman only because without a “PG” rating a vast audience of kids could not have seen the film.
I assure you that profit was not what motivated the interest in having the film available for more people to see. Isn’t it ironic, given the issues you raise, that an old, vulgar word for the act of love, almost common again in ordinary conversation, and breasts, which have been declared legal recently by the courts, weren’t considered fit for children by the arbiters of moral suitability. But, beatings and killings were passed by the censors without demur.
David, Al, and I, along with David Myers, a highly respected local cinematographer, went to the Oakland Angel’s home to show them the footage, discuss releases, and film their reaction. Breaking the agreement that had been made, the Angels would not permit us to shoot any film. They refused to give releases for what had been shot, demanding, in fact, that the stabbing footage be destroyed. There were a lot of reasons: they didn’t wish to be shown in a bad light; the portion showing the killing might put one of the members at risk, etc. But, their objections could be overcome if: they were recognized and paid $1,000,000 as “life actors”. Later that was reduced to $400,000, so they could build a clubhouse. David was assaulted while we were there. We were told that if we didn’t meet their demands we would be killed. They were not paid. The film was not suppressed. Releases were never obtained. No one was killed though the threat was restated on a number of occasions.
Many believe the film was instrumental at the trial of the Angel who did the stabbing. The jury, having seen Meredith Hunter running toward the stage with a drawn gun, returned a verdict of not guilty. Other reasons advanced are that, in California, photographic evidence unsupported by reliable eyewitness testimony cannot be accepted, in capital cases, as proof and the witnesses, having taken drugs, could not be considered reliable. So, officially and semantically this was a killing not a murder.
None of us knew, at the time, exactly when the killing took place or if a camera was pointed that way. Al Maysles couldn’t see the killing from where he was on the stage. For Baird Bryant, the cameraman who actually captured it on film, it happened so fast . . . For all he knew it was just one more of the many scuffles. Only later, back in New York, when the film was synched up, was it learned, despite all reports to the contrary, that it happened during the performance of “Under My Thumb.”
It should be noted that all the known violence occurred at or very near the stage. Tens of thousands of people had no idea of what was going on just a few dozen feet away. They knew only that the music was interrupted frequently. They stayed, picnicked, partied, played, had a good time, and went home only to learn later from television, radio, newspapers, magazines, and conversation about what had transpired. With rare exception the crowd was well behaved and self-controlled.9
In the rush to print or broadcast there was little accurate reporting of the event. The Berkeley Barb put the knife in Hunter’s hand and gave the Angel the gun. It was easy to capitalize on the Stones’ unwholesome image and, in instant analysis, point the finger at the “bad boys of rock and roll.” Deadline fever pushed some to present conjecture and rumor as truth. When information to the contrary was offered it was typically rejected as unimportant, self serving, or, because there was a new sensation, no longer of interest. Errors were not acknowledged, corrections not printed. It was easy to present Altamont as the obverse image of “Woodstock” and facile to declare the death of “Peace and Music.” So, those reports have been accepted, endlessly repeated, and there is nothing in the public record to the contrary.
As to the moral questions:
Aren’t documentary film makers artists, reporters, and historians?10 What of those responsibilities? What would the judgement be if the Maysles had abandoned the film? What would the New York Times have said then? Its critic, Vincent Canby, described, in an article an editor headlined “Making Murder Pay”, what he conjectured must have been the joyful scene, callous attitude, and counting of profits at the Maysles’ studio when the stabbing footage was discovered. Nothing could have been further from the truth. There was instead a pall. The discussion was of the responsibility that had now descended upon them. The Times would not print a letter I wrote that more accurately described Albert, David, and Charlotte’s reaction unless I would agree to their deleting language that addressed the critic’s charges as reckless and most revealing of his approach to life and truth. I did not agree. The letter was never printed.
Pauline Kael, who was famous, above all, for wanting to appear clever, wrote a scathing review of the film for the New Yorker — very clever, but filled with errors. The Maysles’ response, addressed to her and the New Yorker, was never printed. Later, in a collection of her pieces, the most grievous, factually inaccurate sections were omitted. Nowhere was it noted that the reprint was edited or abridged and very different from what had appeared in the original New Yorker piece.
The Maysles had other responsibilities as well. Abandonment might well have meant that their financial standing, their ability to undertake other projects, would be compromised for years. Imagine for the moment what all of us would have lost if they had not proceeded — no “Grey Gardens”, no “Running Fence”, no “Horowitz, the Last Romantic”, none of the other remarkable films that have enriched our lives.
Suppose they had made a concert film, with filler, ala “the Last Waltz” (which I happen to like); excluding all the Altamont footage. Would that have been morally correct? Responsible? Could they honestly show, would it have been moral to show Altamont without showing the killing? If that had been shown just once in the film, at normal speed, would the gun have been seen? Would that have been better? Wouldn’t that have effectively excluded what amounts to exculpatory material. Wouldn’t it have obscured the truth? If the film could be faulted for being brutally frank, should it instead be praised if it had been kindly dishonest?
What should have been done about a young man who was running toward the stage with a gun? I doubt, had the stage been higher, that he would have been discouraged from whatever he had in mind. Would the Maysles and/or the Stones be absolved if the profits had been donated to Hunter’s family as was demanded by the underground/alternative press that had further emotionalized the issue by addressing it almost exclusively as a racial matter?
Who was responsible? The Stones for wanting to give a free concert? The Grateful Dead for being part of an ad hoc group lending their good offices to continue a San Francisco tradition? The city officials who wouldn’t grant the permit to use Golden Gate Park? Since then hundreds of thousands have attended peaceful concerts in Golden Gate Park, including, in the last few years, memorials for Bill Graham and Jerry Garcia.
Who shares the responsibility? Filmways for steering clear of something in which it had no corporate interest, nothing to gain?11 The crowd? The crew? Me? The volunteer medics who patched up the wounded and tried to save Hunter’s life? All of society?
Does moral responsibility descend ex post facto upon the film makers for having unfailingly told the truth where others did not. Should we hold the messengers responsible for our discomfort if the message, delivered in a darkened theater, does not simply entertain. If the message impels us to ask the critical questions you pose shouldn’t we consider that it may be coming from a highly moral source? If illumination of man’s capacities offends us should we turn out the lights and blame the sun for affronting us with shadows?
I hope it is clear that none of the above is criticism of what you have written. It, rather, is intended to help you separate fact from fiction from fantasy, whatever its source. And, to help you posit the argument above that of some whose motivations may not be so pure. I wish we could rely upon the news media, if not for absolute accuracy and the whole story while its need is to be timely, to then follow-up and, at least, make available the information it has in its possession, the accuracy and truth of which is beyond question, that is contrary to its already published reports.
“Gimme Shelter” should be registered and preserved because it is an extraordinary film. It is just one small part of an extraordinary body of work. The Maysles along with their frequent collaborator Charlotte Zwerin12 virtually defined documentary cinema with “Salesman”. Their subsequent films have continued, in the same uncompromised way, to explore and expose what it means to be human, sometimes ugly, sometimes glorious. Their benign influence is pervasive throughout the film community and visible everywhere documentary film or video is shown. Their studio was and remains the de facto graduate school, the hallmark of integrity for aspiring film makers. Their technical contributions to the industry: developing lightweight, high quality cameras and breaking the sync connection between camera and sound have been universally adopted, spawning new generations of equipment for documentary film, news gathering, and for the large format equipment used in the making of “Hollywood” movies.
Working with them was and remains one of the high points of my life. Everyone should be so blessed.
I have been talking with Al, along with some others about a potential theatrical rerelease of the film with prints adapted for current theater technology, of preserving it digitally, and about a DVD release with multichannel audio. I hope you would be available to discuss preservation and digital conversion with me. I, of course, am available and happy to discuss any matters addressed in this, so much longer than I had planned, letter. Or, anything else you would like to talk about. Please let me know when would be a good time to follow up.
I applaud you for the work you do. Its importance is rarely recognized and, I’m certain, the rewards are far less than they should be.
Sincerely,
Stan Goldstein
cc: Albert Maysles
ENDNOTES
February 24, 1999
Soon after it was written I sent copies of the letter to some of those with whom I worked on “Gimme Shelter”. While they confirmed its general accuracy they did point out a few errors. They questioned a few of my interpretations and conclusions, suggested some clarifications, and provided additional information. Their responses have inspired these footnotes. Because I have consolidated, edited, and interpreted their input there are no attributions.
Note: References to the Stones, here or in the body of the letter, mean inclusively the band, its management, employees, etc. except where it is clear by context that I am referring to the musicians themselves.
(1) “Maysles”, “the Maysles” may mean, depending on context, exclusively David and Albert Maysles or the firm of which they were the principals, Maysles Films, Inc., its employees, and others who participated in the making of “Gimme Shelter”. I have tried, when referring specifically to the brothers, to use their first names. David passed away on Jan. 3, 1987. Albert continues to lead the firm which recently produced the remarkable film “The Making of the Getty Center” for which he was also the principal cinematographer.Return to text
(2) See Bay Area newspapers and various issues of “Rolling Stone” from the time of the concert and from later, when the film was released. See also “Dance with the Devil: The Rolling Stones and Their Times” by Stanley Booth, “Sleeping Where I Fall” by Peter Coyote, and “Aquarius Rising, The Rock Festival Years” by Robert Santelli.Return to text
(3) This refers to the Filmways Corporation which owned the nearby Sears Point Raceway and had many other entertainment industry interests, about which there will be more later.Return to text
(4) A lot of it was at Sears Point where construction of a stage had not only begun, but was, according to some reports, complete except for a few finishing touches. It couldn’t be completely dismantled, moved, and reconstructed at Altamont in the time available. It is doubtful, had those or other materials been available, that an adequate stage could be have been constructed in the hours between acquisition of the Altamont site and the start of the concert.Return to text
(5) These comments are based on very limited personal observation and contemporary conversations with people in the industry living in the area. I was a New York resident, recently moved there from Miami, FL, and was only an occasional visitor to the Bay Area.Return to text
(6) While the Hells Angels, as a group, were, to my knowledge, not ever used as a security force; individual members were frequently hired as part of their regular security crew by local promoters and by some in other areas, especially for Dead concerts. I have been informed that some Angels, who had especially close relationships with members of the group, its management, or their crew, were occasionally used by them for personal security. On all those occasions they appeared without Angel colors or insignia, wore street clothes or the same “uniform” as other security personnel, and they were subject to the same restrictions, authorities, and controls.Return to text
(7) Among my respondents this paragraph caused the most controversy, including accusations that I am an Angel apologist because I conjecture that “things might not have gotten so out of control” if the leaders had been there from the beginning. I abhorred, then and now, their philosophy, conduct, racism, sexism, propensity for and joy in violence. They were brutal bullys who sought by costume, manner, and action not just to intimidate, but to terrorize. Nevertheless, there were some Angel leaders who were, at least, dismayed by what they found when they arrived at the site and tried, albeit ineffectually, to exert or obtain control of the situation. Who knows what might have happened if they had been there earlier?
Meredith Hunter had attracted attention to himself, during the day, by behavior, that even in that setting seemed unusual. He had been involved in a number of non-violent confrontations with one or more Angels through the course of the day. He was seen, photographed, and appears in the film prior to the penultimate incident. I have been told that members of the Hells Angels prevented medical personnel from treating Hunter when he was carried to the side of the stage. One is quoted as having said: “He’s going to die anyway.” I know that at some point first aid was administered to no avail. It is unlikely that his life could have been saved if had been given earlier.
Even more personally, I find it hard to feel warm and fuzzy toward or make apologies for people who threaten my life. Especially when those threats are repeated over the years. A long time after the meeting at the Angels’ house I was stopped on a street in San Francisco by a woman, connected with the Angels, who asked if I was crazy. “Didn’t I believe they would carry out their threat?” She told me I shouldn’t be walking around in the open like that. Years later, in New York, I was asked to work on a film being made about the Angels. I was told that my death sentence would be suspended while I was working on that movie.Return to text
(8) I have been corrected. Originally the credits, with music, rolled over the freeze frame of Mick that ends the main body of the film. The credit roll over the departing crowd was substituted at the Stones behest (demand?). That change continues to disturb some who feel the film was weakened by that ending. Any other changes/adjustments that were made for the Stones are not considered to have been of much consequence.
I was reminded that the Stones would not permit the release into general theatrical distribution of Robert Frank’s film “Cocksucker Blues”, shot during their next U. S. tour. Given the title and content, getting rated by the MPAA, without drastic alterations, would have been problematic. It probably would not have been picked up by many exhibitors outside of major urban markets and it certainly would have been difficult to advertise. The film is shown regularly at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, was recently shown at the Castro in San Francisco, and may occasionally be seen at other locations. Performance footage originally intended for Frank’s film was used to make “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Rolling Stones” by Roland Binzer.Return to text
(9) Some people, disgusted or disheartened by the violence, left early. Their comments, captured on film, but not used in the movie, suggest that violent incidents may have occurred during the show, at other parts of the site, well away from the stage. By Angels? By others? Against whom? I don’t know.
What I do know is that after the show was over, while the stage was being taken apart and equipment was being packed away, some audience members and a lot of the Hells Angels remained. The Angels built an enormous bonfire of wood, tires, and other refuse and conducted their own kind of party some distance from the working area. Like moths to flame others who remained went to watch, some tried to participate. Ugly, violent incidents continued on into the night and the next morning. It seemed sometimes as though there were people just waiting their turn to get bloodied. Some, after being beaten, would move away for awhile only to return to get battered again.
The first aid people had long since left. The injured, who required attention, were taken away by friends or volunteers from the remaining crowd. Some of them returned after dropping off the latest casualties, only to be added later to the growing list of the damaged. Return to text
(10) Quoting from a letter: “Documentary filmmakers are not historians. They are interpreters of history . . . A documentary film is a work of art. Certainly there are facts and real events, but they are shaped to make a larger point or there is no point in doing it at all.”Return to text
(11) What Filmways’ interest was, what it wanted, what it did or didn’t do, and why is a side story all its own. A Filmways subsidiary, Concert Associates, produced the Stones’ sold out L. A. concerts. They wanted to add shows. The Stones wouldn’t give them the dates. It was a contentious relationship. How much did that effect the negotiations and intrude into the decision regarding the use of Sears Point?
A Filmways executive tried to coerce David into making a distribution deal for the eventual film, under the worst possible terms, using availability of the Sears Point racetrack as a lever. His approach — browbeating, abusive language, virtual white mail — guaranteed rejection. If David had agreed, which he may not have been entitled to do, and the show had been held at Sears Point, on the stage already constructed, how different might the day have been?Return to text
(12) Charlotte Zwerin is a distinguished, award winning editor, director, and producer in her own right. She was co-director with David and Al of “Gimme Shelter” and credited equally with them on “Salesman” and the other films on which they worked together. Her contribution to the art is only now, slowly, belatedly being recognized by film historians and academics. Her knowledge of, feeling for, and sensitivity to the technical demands and nuances of music and mixing had more positive effect on my work than any other director with whom I’ve worked. That was true as well of her work with the editors; regardless their professionalism, experience, artistry, and skills.
My failure to acknowledge her actual film credit, in the letter, was based in my wish to honor her across the board contribution and participation in every post production element of the making of the movie. Notwithstanding her specific, individual contributions; if film is a collaborative art, than she was, on this one, to me, the ultimate collaborator.
While bowing to the crediting conventions that were developed for scripted films, Al believes some of them are inappropriate when applied to documentaries. He takes particular exception to the title “Director” and the line “Directed by”. Nevertheless, realizing that recognizable terms are important (perhaps critical) to the careers of those with whom he works, out of respect for them, to acknowledge and honor the high level of their participation and contributions to the making of Maysles’ films, he accedes to the use of those terms, even for himself.
In that same regard, I have never, before or since been: given the latitude and freedom to exercise my craft; afforded so open an opportunity to become involve in every element of the film making process, and; allowed to define my role in terms of professional credits that I always had when working with the Maysles. I became a Maysles fan when I saw “Portrait of a Company”, a film made for the IBM Corporation in the early 60′s, for showing to its employees. “Salesman”, a film by David, Al, and Charlotte, quite simply, bowled me over. I was disappointed when they weren’t selected to film the Woodstock Festival in which I was very involved. I sought them out after that show and one thing led to another.
eight times in the original version…so they had to cut me out. I didn’t mind as I hate my voice and I cursed so much so they wouldn’t be able to use what I said. Actually, I had a lot of reasons to curse without any excuses on my part. The only time you do hear my voice is when they ask, in Belli’s office, for the computation of how many cars will fit in the area designated as parking..(my accountant nature came to bear)
