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Mock cinema vertite about a young filmmakers consternation at finding 'truth' and putting it on film. Insightfully examines how we define reality, how our perceptions can cloud it, and whether it is really possible to show it on film. Probably to talky for most, but still quite thought provoking. Filled with some really offbeat ideas and camerawork. Among them: filming the faces of people at a bus stop while we hear excerpts from the McCarthy hearings. Also photographing a entire night of tv viewing each minute and then playing them back frame by frame. A very low budget movie, made by some very young filmmakers, with a very original point of view.

I don't know why this rather dull piece of cinema verite is so famous. Perhaps you had to be there - in the sixties I mean.

A man films his own life for a week or so and in the process loses his girlfriend. There are some effective moments - like when he films an endless row of elderly people sitting on park benches, and when he films, in fast motion, what he watched on television one evening.

But the long, self-indulgent, angst-ridden diatribes at the camera bored me to tears.

It is quite convincing though - so it is surprising to learn that it was scripted and acted. A curiosity piece that is mercifully short.

I first saw this film on public TV of all places, at about 2:30 am. Not knowing why(or anything about the film),I grabbed a blank tape and recorded it. What followed was a film that grabbed my attention from the opening shot of David with the camera to the end scene where the only thing left is some still shots and David's voice. Being that this is shot on a hand held,it gives it great atmostphere (especially the shots on the street and in Central Park). I recommend this to any future filmmaker and watch with awe.

***1/2

This fake documentary (which appears quite real on the surface) is about a young man making a movie about his everyday life and discovering something important about himself and his reality. Again, this film is not a real documentary... or is it? Personally, I don't think this is a great film. Even in its short run time, it has a lot of fluff. But I do think it has a certain level of brilliance in that it does appear to be a real documentary, even crediting the actors under false names. Also, it does offer a nice reflection on the role of film, bringing up some ideas expressed by Godard and others.

I can see how a film like this could be used to launch a career, but in and of itself, it really is nothing too exciting and really more of a curiosity.

If you liked the Blair Witch Project, this is where they probably got the idea. Every film school shows this as an example of a completely fictional documentary, that works. Done in cinema verite style, the fictional angst filled life of a documentary maker falls apart, as he chronicles its disintegration, largely caused by his obsession with filming it as it crumbles. Like watching a train wreck.

Jim McBride's mockumentary is a delightful satire about the filmmaker's compulsion to capture everything on camera, and also a wry character study of one young man who uses his "art" as a pretext for complete self-absorption. This film from the sixties eerily forecasts our present absorption with social media.

As played by L.M. Kit Carson, David is on an irreconcilable mission: to at once understand a world in chaos, and cocoon himself from it in his own cinematic world.

He is lucky that his girlfriend ( Eileen Dietz) didn't chuck his camera when he filmed her sleeping nude.

One thing I found fascinating is the "Observer Effect" as defined by David. Once you start filming, you cease to have reality as you change in response to the film. It is not real life, it is a movie. One would wonder here, if you wore a GoPro Hero all day would you record a normal day, or would you look for the abnormal?

With irritation, alienation, a sex-hungry lady sitting in a car in the middle of traffic, and a few bloody noses, this one "Diary" worth peeking into.

My golly- boy. Man, this flick rocks kicks it dances all over the place pretty heavy.Bad. Bad can mean good. You decide. Personally, I'm straight like the dude who films the show. This was way before black metal less you count Brian Jones an Jim Morrison. You know, its up to you--- do it mean love is real, love is unreal, diamonds for eyes, ghosts for lips, everything OR nothing?... is it existential or is it nihilist? You figure. Believe in God.. I'm religious. Check out "Pretty Girls" B SPEARS AN Iggy A.Z.--- then the film. OK? Anybody gets it then, anybody. Now I tried to submit my democracy & being told I don't got enough lines>>> OK let's add some more... like a college paper. There. I'm not shouting, corrected spelling, and should have plenty of lines.

David Holzman's Diary comes close to the "dream" of what was possible in the ideal of the American independent cinema of the 1960s. Taking the lessons of John Cassavetes with Shadows and French new wave filmmakers, specifically Godard and Truffaut, Jim McBride decided that shooting a narrative with a documentary approach- following the characters hand-held, without the artifice of a constricting studio- wasn't quite enough to get at a really personal cinema. At the same time his film is something of a cunning, if not always obvious, attack on "personal docu-style" essay movies. The idea that anyone can get a camera and make a movie or something on film about their lives has now mutated into something else with reality TV (True Life on MTV is like a professional extension of David Holzman's Diary), but at the time this was something extraordinary to attempt. And even today, it still shows.

This doesn't mean David Holzman's Diary is perfect, but then how could it ever be? Or would anyone in their right mind think it should be? It's imperfections are part of its... I won't say charm, since the film isn't exactly "charming", but it's got a certain something to it by having some longer takes, some shots or moments that are extended on David Holzman going on and on to the camera about his life, or what little there is of it. It's got that randomness of a diary, of anything popping into one's head put down on record. And that aspect, about film being "truth 24 frames a second, is one of the strongest things about it. It's message is both clear and hard to take: film is something that creates a reality of its own, as the male interviewee says, that a person can't have their own reality because of an aesthetic addition or distraction to it.

This won't be news to anyone who's seen docu-horror films like Blair Witch Project or Diary of the Dead, but the difference here is that of high-minded artistic aspirations. David Holzman is a filmmaker already, so to make a film about himself, mostly with him in his apartment pondering things like Vincente Minelli or Truffaut's comment on a woman's flicking of a wrist like Debbie Reynolds, it's bound to be pretentious. The trick is to know that McBride is mocking this particular high-and-mighty artist who does have some good intentions, while at the same time making a very personal kind of film. Seeing McBride and Michael Wadleigh's camera going down a block, put to the local radio station, then going past old people's faces in close-up in a park or going by a cop who may or may not know a "film" is being shot, is incredible on-the-fly material. That or just Holzman shooting out of the window as a voyeur on another woman in an apartment reveals as much about the character as the filmmaker making the film within the film. Did I mention that Holzman, long before the semi-tragic ending, shoots the television at night one frame every single cut and then puts all the frames together? It's awe-inspiring and breathtaking.

Might sound confusing, but it's worth it to take the experience if you know what you're getting, which is an experiment as much as a essay-style narrative. This doesn't mean all the performances are very good (I liked the woman in the car very much, the girl playing Penny or the male guy being interviewed not so much), but some moments, some truly cinematic experiences come out of it. 9.5/10

Kit Carson's face has a relevancy even today, cutting through the demographic piece of the cake: he reminds one of Jean Pierre Leaud which is arguably one of the motives casting him as David Holzman, and he also reminds one of us today Beck's face, and his maybe signature lyric "I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me."

But David Holzman as his name says is a man holding - holding what? A camera for sure, the instrument that ultimately makes him fall apart; pursuing his credo stated right at the beginning and maybe, uneasily, hilariously put to the test for the rest of it, that is Jean-Luc Godard's phrase that the cinematic truth runs 24 times a frame. I liked the fact that he rises a bit his voice and somehow overacts his name with an American accent as if it was not far away from jeans, luck, God and art.

I admit I expected something closer to the "I do this, I do that" poetic compositions Frank O'Hara was doing a bit earlier the same period, for he too queered and mocked supposedly avant-guard procedures, or at least their seriousness. I thought David Holzman's self-indulgence slightly needed the more constant alertness he exemplified in scenes like the one in the park, with rows of old people on benches and a dubious voice-over international commentary - that broke away from the rather one-dimensional reaction poor Penny has and seems that she conceives her late boyfriend a simple stupid stalker.

For me the anthology scene is the one with David's friend who talks on camera theorizing about film, in front of a pop mural at his place - and when you think the way the tableau conveys it that you are about to have an illumination on Rosenquist and his tableaux and the American predicament or what, David's friend moves and goes back to the wall resting his head on the crotch on the figure behind. This is great sophisticated camp.

And for me it echoes finely when the end comes with an unexpected intuition on the other side of the pitch: in the end David Holzman says he would not have done it; the 24-times truth seems to him something close to Bartleby territory. "I would prefer not to". Not to do it he says, but this, exactly, seems to me a grim acceptance of the American predicament. What I mean by this is that Bartleby never says "not to do it", nothing comes after his "not to," his denial is a formal gesture without content, that is why his presence is so unbearable. David is not Bartleby but he stumbles upon his presence, perhaps the way Zapruder stumbled upon a President's assassination some years back in his own brand of home cinema verite, and this is what troubles David and makes the film something else than a diary.

Wildly unconventional and sadly underrated, "David Holzman's Diary" is, in my opinion, the greatest "found footage" film ever made. While "found footage" is a genre normally associated only with horror movies, and wasn't even a term in 1967, this still plays out extraordinarily similarly to a film like "The Visit" or "Willow Creek". However, it is much, much better and is a tragicomedy rather than a horror flick.

Before delving into the depths of this obscure oddity, one must be aware that it is a highly satirical film. It mocks the avant garde and cinema verite movement in a deadpan and, at times, subtle way. It portrays those who attempted to find art and truth in the painfully mundane as people who are pretentious, delusional, and occasionally creepy. Of course, I am something of a fan of these movements, but it is important to also note that the film isn't mocking ALL cinema verite or experimental films, just the highly pretentious and annoyingly boring ones that began to spring up back in the mid to late 60's.

Although he is something of an antihero, the film also gives poor David Holzman some sympathy as we witness his life steadily decay due to his cinematic obsession. It's tragic, it's satiric, and it's comic.

What at first seems a fairly straightforward piece of sixties cinema verite turns out to be a precursor to 'The Blair Witch Project' which could easily have been found by the police next to the maker's body and which Maxine Audley might have had in mind when she declared in 'Peeping Tom' "all this filming isn't - healthy!"

I hope the people being filmed through their windows were in on the joke, otherwise the makers would been in serious trouble had they been caught!

I guess you would get confused if you didn't understand the hype and hoopla surrounding the cinema verité movement during this era.

David Holzman's Diary serves to lampoon cinema verité by showing one dull, overly introspective scene after another. It's a thinly-veiled attack on what director Jim McBride saw as a pretentious cinematic form.

The fact that cinema verité is not widely regarded today (except in film schools) is a testimony to how dated this film now appears. That said, Roman Coppola endlessly references this film in his debut, "CQ". Perhaps McBride's film will enjoy a bit of a renaissance.

I found this film quite depressing rather than funny. It sort of gives you a lonely feeling while you're watching, as the protagonist documents his sad everyday life. The moments when David is with his girlfriend Penny, it feels very real; so real that it's scary as you witness their relationship fall apart due to David's narcissism. Definitely an underrated film worth checking out. It contains one of the longest monologues I've ever heard and is sort of educational in a way.

It seems reviews of David Holzman's Diary were written with a sense of nostalgia and cinéma vérité in mind. Various reviews from several years back have the writer staying they caught this particular film late at night on cable and perceived it to be real, which would definitely add to the experience, regardless of whether or not you agree with the ideas and themes of the film at hand. I knew if during one of my insomniac nights I caught David Holzman's Diary on Television and witnessed what it had to offer, I'd report back with a review that would sound more in the way of a kneejerk alarmist about the radical style this film bears. My only question to those who initially believed this film to be authentic and not a mockumentary - did you miss the end credits?

David Holzman's Diary is a piece of "docufiction," or a film genre obsessed with the concepts or reality and time and conducting them in such a way that gives you the feel that you're watching an authentic account of real life, when really, you're watching a scripted film. This particular film stars L.M. Kit Carson as the titular David Holzman, a young filmmaker and cinephile who, one day, decides to start videotaping his life and keeping video diaries of his thoughts on the world and himself. Over time, he watches himself grow as a person while making these videos and becomes increasingly obsessed with the idea of defining reality.

The film is slender at seventy-four minutes long, shot in black and white and made up predominately of lengthy, static shots with its loquacious and confused subject. Carson is said to basically be reiterating the thoughts and musings of the film's director, Jim McBride, but does so in such a natural way that he's obviously doing something right if people were believing he was just some nut with a camera in the sixties. He talks a great deal about the portrayal and image of women during the tumultuous time of the sixties, which provides for a nice time capsule to the time period, especially for those less fortunate, like me, who have no primary account of the period.

David Holzman's Diary is a lot more interesting to discuss than it is to watch, at times getting too stylistically wrapped up in itself and obscuring its own ideas, but such is the case, I suppose, when you are discussing lofty concepts and theories involving destiny and time. Carson gives a performance of true naturalism, and the home- video effects McBride's docufiction presentation provide the film with a feeling all its own. The more I flirt with shorts and full- length films of decades past, the more I realize cinematic radicalism dated back further and further.

Starring: L.M. Kit Carson. Directed by: Jim McBride.

This film grabs you in from the get go, and takes you into the mind of a hapless young filmmaker. A true historic masterpiece! It's something completely different and unique from any other moviegoing experience you will ever have. Don't miss a chance to pass this up. A true step forward in filmmaking.

The more I'm thinking about it the less I'm able to comment on anything regarding it, for I'm becoming as inarticulate and baffled as our young narrator and protagonist. Becoming him, is what all young men should avoid, yet can't escape in this asylum of a society they've found themselves in. The character David Holzman speaks, unfortunately, to almost everybody I personally know, and gives a sense that nothing has essentially changed in more than half of a century in the western world, except from a technological aspect; for instance, one could say that what Jim McBride then called a "diary" and thought of, probably, as a cinematic innovation, today is called a "vlog" and people completely unaware of the cinematic art are capable of capturing ten and a hundred times the material he was able to capture in 1967, and without the requirement of even the petty amount of 2,500 bucks! I don't know much of the course the life and career of McBride took after "David Holzman"; I know, from this "diary" that he's a fan of JLG (long live!) and that he went on remaking his icon's first feature, "Breathless" in the early 80s, with Richard Gere. I wouldn't call this piece a master's one, I definitely wouldn't call its maker an equal to James Joyce and Picasso, or even Art Spiegelman, as I'd call Godard. If I had to guess, I'd guess that cranky, political Godard would disapprove of such self-indulgent, experimental projects at the time of its release, but that's irrelevant to people who're striving to find ways to leave a mark with their own breakthrough. From the many movies I saw the past few weeks, "David Holzman" stayed with me the most, even though I wanted to turn my head away every time I saw him, choked-up, trying to spell out his feelings. There are, as in any experiment, certain ingenious and revelatory aspects, like the friend/jiminy-cricket, with his strict logic (the perfect opposite to Holzman) offering us some quotable lines and some of the best piece of advice I've ever heard a friend offering to a friend (especially a filmmaker friend), or the TV-montage, as nauseating and mesmerizing as, I figure, McBride intended it to be, but it's not for its gems, but instead, mostly for its flaws that it has resonated with me. It's obvious that a young man who didn't have much, gathered whatever he had, and did whatever he could, and after all... it is a breakthrough of a kind, and nowadays, at 27, I'm in the state of life where I should envy it.