NO ARTIST CAN FOLLOW in Robert Breer's footsteps, and it would be foolish to try. The path he blazed through film was so utterly his own that no one will ever take it to quite the same heights he did. The films we remember him for could only have come to, or rather through, this great artist in all his particularity: through his eye and hand, and through his daydreaming, tinkering, and wily sense of structure.
Which is not to say that a deep seeing of his work can't utterly transform the horizon of your own possibilities. Certainly his films have rewarded the close and repeated viewings I've given them since my first, teenage encounter thirty-some years ago. I remember his 1968 …
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