Learning From the Masters

Lately, I am obsessed with the Maysles brothers. Anyone with an interest in human nature should be. They have much to teach.

If you know who they are, then you know what I mean. Pioneers of the “direct cinema,” they strive to capture reality directly and present it truthfully. To do this, they get out of the way and let their subjects shine. Probably best known for Grey Gardens (1976), they also captured youthful frenzy at the historic Rolling Stones concert at Altamont (Gimme Shelter, 1970), and created a moving portrait of desperate middle aged men in their 1968 masterpiece, Salesman, which follows four traveling Bible salesmen across the American consumerist wasteland.

Each of these gems is like a time capsule. The characters, the settings, the events, could only have taken place when they did and where they did; and watching them, one is instantly transported to that place. The narrative unfolds through the editing, not through exposition or interviews. And in each, the attentive viewer is struck by the utter lack of self-consciousness displayed by the subjects, people who are not generally used to being filmed (with the exception of The Stones).

So, how does this apply to research? Having done thousands of consumer interviews on film, and hundreds of in-home interviews, I am always struck by the intimacy the Maysles are able to establish with their subjects. Salesman, which we watched the other night is a particularly good example of this.

The heart of the movie is comprised of the sales calls. Each of the four bible salesmen convince reluctant housewives to let them in the house and then we watch as they engage in a battle of wills that centers around religion (Catholic guilt, primarily) and money (I can’t afford this). Scene after scene I marveled that these women and sometimes men would agree to let the salesman in at all, let alone his camera crew. And yet there is no indication from any of these subjects that they are conscious of being filmed. The Maysles have made themselves invisible; flies on the wall with a camera and a mic.

In the commentary on the DVD, David Maysles explains that they aren’t striving to be invisible at all…

“I believe in love at first sight.

Kind of romantic notion, perhaps….But, I think if you have a belief that you really belong there to film that person that you’re doing that person a service by recognizing who that person really is then you can look that person straight in the eye and they sense the trust that you’re giving them and they trust you – it doesn’t take sometimes more than a moment to do that.

When we made Salesman we walked in the door and started filming…Nine times out of ten people accepted us.

I think there’s something in the nature of human beings where they want to expose to the rest of the world who they really are and if they can trust you that you’ll do that then you’re in business right from the start.

I think the idea of being represented for what they are is a compliment to them.”

I agree–based on my own experience establishing bonds with research subjects–trust is the key to good research, good storytelling, good moviemaking, and good work in this world. Trust is not something that can be faked. It comes from a genuine respect for the other person, a respect that is so deep and equitable that it doesn’t even matter who that other person is…that they’re human and making their way through this world is enough.