when we talk of this documentary being the antithesis of a 'spectacle', as if it were some situationist flick, are we secretly admitting that the pacing invited some boredom? we can't but help the aesthetic programming of the world today, so one may as well be honest.
although we are, of course, intelligent enough to realise that things have value beyond their being endorphinically thrilling and that this documentary is terribly, perhaps hauntingly, important beyond being merely informative—it's a part of the experiences to be spun through tales of heta village during its final epoch.
