On first viewing, I struggled a decent amount while watching this beautifully shot, somewhat experimental documentary. Enthralling at first, I ultimately found it's style a bit repetitive and limiting; slow motion photography of people found at the still very rough corner of 125th and Lexington in Manhattan in the middle of the night, combined with voice overs telling stories that may or may not be the stories of the faces we're seeing.
I also had a hard time with the way film-maker Allah starts injecting himself more and more as the film goes on, ultimately giving some pretty literal speeches about his themes of love and unity – speeches that feel a bit self-serving (or at least self-aggrandizing) and also very out of tune with the enigmatic, open ended feeling the film has worked so hard to create. I
I was haunted enough to be willing to give it another look. And on 2nd viewing, while I had basically the same likes and dislikes, I found the overall worked a little better, felt more cohesive. This is filmmaking as outsider art, but there's beauty and intelligence amidst the flaws.