In this marathon four-hour-long "reality fiction", as he calls his documentaries, Fred Wiseman threads together a scrapbook of images from Belfast, Maine, a small town where the landscapes are lovely, the pace slow and the people working class.

There is no narrative voice-over. There is no soundtrack. The story is whereever he allows the camera lens to fall. Edits are made reluctantly - Wiseman wants to let the people of Maine tell their own story, whether they be fishermen, flower-arrangers, pyschiatric patients, forestry workers, hunters or the village activists lobbying on planning policy at the town hall meeting.

Wiseman slowly and thoroughly builds a picture of the various parts of this small community. His cool documentary eye is at its best when showing people at work, for example, factory workers processing potatoes, or a baker making donuts. He is fascinated by people in the workplace, following these processes in great depth from beginning to end. The disengaged style, while well-crafted and high on integrity, doesn't make a watchable film. Wiseman is so discreet and committed to letting everyone have a say that viewers used to the cut and thrust of modern documentary filmmaking may soon nod off.