Despite its stunning images of the war in Libya, there is something frustrating about this muddled, indulgent movie from Oscar-nominated documentary film-maker Marshall Curry. His subject is Matthew Vandyke, a young American national who travelled widely in north Africa and the Middle East with his video camera, and went to Libya in 2011 as a combatant to join the fight against Gaddafi. Vandyke undoubtedly got some great footage, and Curry uses some of it here.
But there is an extraordinary number of closeups of Vandyke’s own rugged, brooding face (lovingly filmed by Vandyke) as he gazes out at the far horizon. At one stage, he concedes the possibility that some might think him a “narcissistic asshole”. Well, there certainly is a very tiresome selfie aesthetic to this whole film. It doesn’t tell you anything much about Libya, but neither does it persuade you that Vandyke himself is of comparable interest – blandly accepting him at his own estimation of himself. In a series of dull interviews, Curry never questions Vandyke closely about the value of his Libyan adventure, or his exact motives, and the final, supremely exasperating shot seems to imply that the whole thing is a fascinating enigma. It isn’t convincing.
