As with every other pop culture investigation of the 'typewriter renaissance', this documentary focuses almost entirely on vapid artists and obsessive collectors pontificating on their irrelevant emotional connections to typewriters, and of course the cliche of the incredibly skilled typewriter technician on the verge of unemployment. A comprehensive discussion of the machines themselves would make for a far more useful production, but instead they go for the same old wistful, depressing tone I've come to expect from technically inept documentarians trying to discuss historical technical subjects. They don't really understand the subject matter, so they film the only thing they know: feelings. Any self-respecting typewriter collector will spend two hours pointing at the screen saying things like "I have two of those" and "I have that one but mine's green instead of red", but that's about the extent of the enjoyment. The star of the show should be the typewriters, but they are secondary to pointless musings and a sense of loss.
One final note of caution: the 'band' that plays 'music' on typewriters is pure cringe-worthy torture on every level. They alone are reasonable justification to avoid watching this film.
One final note of caution: the 'band' that plays 'music' on typewriters is pure cringe-worthy torture on every level. They alone are reasonable justification to avoid watching this film.