And you’d be hard-pressed to find a better documentary portrait of him than this.
He was seriously dyslexic, so recorded hours of tapes of himself reminiscing in preparation for an autobiography that never got written. This material, along with moments of self-hypnosis, forms the basis for this career-spanning doc, which includes some terrific moments of Brando just being Brando: his chatting up of a female journalist is one of the funniest things you’ll ever see.
Some may carp that the involvement of the Brando estate means this is uncomplicatedly adulatory, but with a subject who was one of the twentieth century’s most culturally significant figures, who needs a hatchet job?
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