Michael Heyman Bitter Lake is an unfortunate nadir in Curtis' output. The quality of his analysis his become considerably degraded over the years. This film takes the position that the US and British military states began with the noble but naive intention of creating "modern democracy" in Afghanistan, but their plans were frustrated by the inscrutability of the East. There are two assumptions here which are highly questionable at best, one of which also contradicts his earlier, more detailed work.Firstly, I would have expected the author of Century of the Self to be more critical of the concept of "modern democracy", which he takes here to be a moral axiom requiring no further analysis. Like anyone with a basic grasp of modern history, he should know very well that "democracy" in this context is simply a code-word for acceptance of the US corporate-dominated economic and military world system, as it has been since at least the end of WW2. Furthermore, he is being implausibly generous by accepting that the stated aim of installing modern democracy in Afghanistan was, in fact, the motivating factor behind the US war machine's destruction of that territory, rather than just a throwaway industry-standard piece of war propaganda for mass consumption. It is more plausible to argue, as Peter Dale Scott does, that, taking into account the pivotal geo- strategic position of Afghanistan, this was an operation to replace non-compliant drug dealing warlords with compliant drug-dealing warlords.The second element of Curtis' story is the frustration of the Empire's noble efforts by the mysterious and Otherly nature of Afghanistan itself. The disjointed selection of contextless images seems to be designed to create an impression of an incomprehensible alien culture. Afghan languages are often left untranslated. The narrative jumps backwards and forwards in time, deliberately juxtaposing images that are not directly causally connected, creating a kaleidoscopic opium dream of exotic hats, inexplicable actions and inscrutable expressions, a regression to 19th-century orientialism. In this case, Curtis' vague efforts to go beyond the linear narrative of the documentary form actually provide an important part of the pro-imperialist argument of the film - the irrational East counterpoised against the linear West.It is unfortunate to see Curtis' level of analysis becoming so much more superficial than in his earlier, more original work. The arguments of Bitter Lake would fit comfortably in a Guardian editorial agonising about the latest failure of the Empire's noble military ambitions.

Viewer456 I really wanted to like this documentary but it frequently tried my patience throughout its bloated running time. Curtis takes an important topic (the oversimplification of the Afghanistan conflict by western media and politicians) and makes an absolute hash of engaging the viewer.In trying to go for atmosphere over narrative Mr Curtis has given us a film peppered with beautiful, horrific and funny individual moments that seem to have no place in the narrative. They seem to be there because they tickle Curtis in some way. Which is fine in a the sense that this is listed as an experimental documentary, but one can't help feeling there are strands that should have been bulked up. The British officer talking about how the Uk military on the ground had completely misidentified their enemy and were being used as pawns by local tribes - more of this please.The soldier delighting in being able to have a bird sit on his helmet? Lovely, but not really worth the indulgent screen-time Curtis gives it. There are numerous other examples of flabby editing throughout the piece.I think we can call this experiment an ambitious failure.

ellenjoelle Even for an avid documentary lover this film manages to take the interest out of one of the most relevant topics of our time. I tried watching it twice but abandoned it 1.5h into the spectacle both times, because it was just annoyingly biased, simplistic content with a lot of predictable art school type 'look at my meaningful composition of clips' faffing. Incredibly hard to follow rambling type of story telling that does nothing to keep and peak the viewers attention at reasonable intervals.However, I guess it is noteworthy that at least someone is pushing the boundaries of narration and film making here.

davehooke1973 'And so the story goes, they wore the clothes to make it seem impossible. The whale of a lie like they hope it was.' The music of the chameleonic, ambiguous, faded jaded star who fell to earth and sold the world is the key to this film, which challenges the very concept of a documentary. Is this postmodernism in extremis or a clarion call to revolution? That question is the very point. Curtis presents a very clear and persuasive narrative of world events over, no, within a surreal AND undeniably real meditation that is at once document and dream. It is as true and fabricated and horrific as Apocalypse Now while being somehow less stagey. The footage is real. Most of it. (Although Bowie could be as stagey as any marionette or as sparsely bleak as the shellshocked junkie). Bitter Lake is a documentary about Afghanistan. And the modern world. The media. Itself. Chameleon, corinthian, and caricature. It is an attempt to be as contemplative as Tarkovsky, as bitterly ironic, and yet it is clear that Curtis is trying to tell not (only) an artistic truth but a historical truth. The good men of tomorrow, according to the Western forces, turned out not to be what they seemed, buying their positions with heroin and trust. The complexities of Afghanistan's politics and the relation of Afghanistan to world politics, these are not just tackled by Bitter Lake, they are evoked. Is the lake beyond comprehension or can we come to terms with it and ourselves? Bitter Lake is never as glib as that question. You could say it was postmodern and experimental, but it seems too well constructed, or perhaps dreamed, to dissolve into a sea of perspectives. Perhaps it is something new. A myriad that reassembles itself into a guided missile. It certainly feels vital, important, but from these shores the eventual impact is... far off. I might just slip away.