I was often unable to pay full attention while watching this documentary about the mania of collecting, as explored through record collectors. I was too busy looking at my numerous shelves, bookcases, and boxes full of comics, DVDs, VHS tapes, and paperback books; wondering how they all got there. To say that I relate to this film is an understatement. There's a part where Alan Zweig, the narrator/director, brings home a dozen records worth of traditional Jewish music from a Goodwill. He defends his choice to the camera (he shoots his confessionals by simply pointing the camera at a mirror surrounded by records that reflect his mood) by stating he "would have felt bad for leaving them there". I've had that same feeling dozens of times when at the library and seeing used books for ten cents, most of which I've still never read and many (like a book about raising black children as a white parent) I probably never will.
It's an introspective film, but thankfully he balances out footage of himself with interviews with a vast number of collectors, each one more fascinating than the last. He often lets these interviews go on longer than a more slick documentary would (the film was shot and edited on low-grade home video) and while it may make the pacing a bit wobbly, it allows you too get into the heads of a wide variety of people and their obsession. As a fellow obsessive, watching these was bittersweet. The joy of discovering that you're not alone in your neurosis is always undercut with the realization of how it must appear to those on the outside.
It gets a little too navel-gazing for it's own good, but it's fascinating and raw in a way that so few films are. If the subject at all interests you, I'd definitely recommend it.
