Documentary filmmaking legend Albert Maysles spoke at Capilano College University in North Vancouver on Saturday evening. At times moderator Katherine Monk struggled to keep pace with the 83 year-old as he systematically ploughed through a well-practiced presentation of clips from his body of work.
The clips included the classic Tea for Two sequence from Grey Gardens, an introspective musical moment with The Rolling Stones from Gimme Shelter, and a truly mind-blowing single take following JFK through a crowd of adoring Democrats in 1960’s Primary. Mr. Maysles peppered his commentary with equally astounding personal anecdotes; he happened to be chatting with Fidel Castro at the very moment the revolutionary leader received a telegram declaring that the US had severed diplomatic relations with Cuba. Too bad the camera wasn’t rolling on that little slice of history.
After observing Mr. Maysles in conversation for a few minutes there remains no question as to how he managed to become such a masterful documentarian over the past sixty years. The inimitable intimacy of his footage stems directly from the disarming quality of his personality. The warmth of his approach to his subjects, whether they are celebrities or Soviet mental patients, always feels sincere. His manner embodies the simple philosophy that fuels his success: “handheld, with an open heart.”
At the end of the evening the director presented a clip from In Transit, a work-in-progress exploring train travel and random found-subject narratives. He spoke with bright enthusiasm about his hope for launching a new genre of “short story collection” documentaries. Then he mentioned his desire to instigate another new genre of “documentary poems.” His eyes glowed as he shared his dream of a future where every flip-cam owner becomes a documentary filmmaker, capturing fleeting moments of real life in miniature films. The future genres he envisions have, more or less, already manifested elsewhere in the culture of the moment, but the continuing relevance of his creative imagination points to an unyielding engagement with the cutting edge of his craft. At 83, Mr. Maysles still actively exercises an ambition to change the way we think about documentary film.
I’m not a documentary filmmaker myself, but count me inspired.

