Islands, a documentary by Albert & David Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin

I read an article by Michael Shulman in the New Yorker (Jan 20, 2025) about Charlotte Zwerin – now living in her former Greenwich Village apartment, he was inspired to learn more about her. She collaborated on numerous documentaries with Albert and David Maysles, though uncredited until very recently. One of those films is Islands, about the floating pink surrounds of half a dozen islands in the Bay of Biscay adjacent to Miami, Florida. 

A significant part of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s work/art was their efforts – calling meetings, talking one-on-one with the holdouts – to win over locals, government entities, and myriad bureaucrats who stymie activities they don’t understand. Finally, after the necessary concession to the Miami mayor, work could begin. Choreographing hundreds of volunteers was the heart of their projects. 

Seeing rolled-up sheets of hot-pink fabric maneuvered by many willing hands, then unfurled one section at a time, is a testament to the unifying power of creativity. Everyone who participates is inspired, taken out of their day-to-day by doing something remarkable together. We see the process then the finished pieces from water level, from the air, from underwater. In the unfurling, a woman frees a young turtle trapped in a roll of fabric, and later we see a needlefish emerge onto the surface from a seam, splash around, and find its way back into the water. 

The other beauty of these projects is their brief lifespan. While art museums go to great lengths to preserve works destined to decay, Christo and Jeanne-Claude left a piece up for a few weeks, then dismantled it. Their art was about time as much as material; people remember witnessing, and it conveys something magical about the location later. 

Christo and Jeanne-Claude financed their projects themselves, as much to guarantee complete artistic freedom as to simplify the approval process. They accomplished this by creating hundreds or even thousands of images – postcards, framed drawings, maquettes, books – of each piece, and selling them. People literally bought into the ideas, supporting their creation. 

I’m delighted that Charlotte Zwerin is at last gaining the recognition she lacked in her lifetime – the New Yorker article discusses the documentary technique the Maysles and their contemporaries pioneered, eschewing lectures and talking heads for the thick of the action, shooting hundreds of hours to capture what they can, then shaping it in the editing room. Though Zwerin is not credited as Editor for Islands, the article indicates she was very involved in editing Maysles Brothers documentaries, and in that process bringing coherence to the footage: creating a film.

Harold and Maude - a fond look

Harold and Maude, by Hal Ashby

Harold and Maude is a perfect movie. It takes no step wrong, the story is complete and flows beautifully. And a fine story it is, too: Harold Chasen (Bud Cort) the 19-year old son of a wealthy single (never clear whether she’s divorced or widowed) society lady (Vivian Pickles), is obsessed with death, suicide, and funerals. At one such funeral, for someone he didn’t know, he encounters Maude (Ruth Gordon), who’d never met the deceased either.

That’s enough plot. She is 51 years his senior. He’s in love with death, she with life. The soundtrack is by the former Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam). And Ashby’s career as a film editor is on full display – every transition is a perfect little segue, yet they are never contrived. The movie has no wasted shots nor scenes – everything serves the story’s progress and its conclusion.

Comic and absurdist moments are abundant, from Maude’s penchant for stealing cars (having none of her own, she prefers to borrow what’s handy to get around, and carries a huge ring of keys for that purpose), to the dating-service dates Harold’s mother sets him up with, having decided he ought to get married. Ashby riffs on popular culture and social unrest (this was released in 1971), but in a way that plays up the human penchant for self-contradiction.

I recently had the good fortune to see this gem on a big screen, where it rightly belongs, and was delighted to note the theater was packed – plenty of folks who’d grown up with this movie, along with a number seeing it for the first time. Somewhere in the ether, the spirit of Hal Ashby is smiling along with our absorption in this excellent love story.