This is how I love my documentaries, raw with no post-edit music and voiceover asserting a condescending 'insert appropriate emotion here'.
I can feel the cold, the stillness, and the altitude through the wind. Like the crackle of putting needle to vinyl, those who want fidelity in their productions are probably too young to remember the nostalgia of sounds in this cleaned-up world.
There's an attachment here to the everyday lives of these remote community people, mainly due to the static point-of-view shots at close quarters which allow the eyes wonder around the mementos, and I felt like a polite guest invited into their world.
The world needs more documentary amateurs who are not funded by huge budgets, so stories are told as reality because some of the best stories are made with empty pockets.
I can feel the cold, the stillness, and the altitude through the wind. Like the crackle of putting needle to vinyl, those who want fidelity in their productions are probably too young to remember the nostalgia of sounds in this cleaned-up world.
There's an attachment here to the everyday lives of these remote community people, mainly due to the static point-of-view shots at close quarters which allow the eyes wonder around the mementos, and I felt like a polite guest invited into their world.
The world needs more documentary amateurs who are not funded by huge budgets, so stories are told as reality because some of the best stories are made with empty pockets.