I suppose that the way I rationalize this debate in my own head is by viewing what I do not as journalism at all (my formal training is as a film/videomaker, not as a journalist), but as "art." (Whatever THAT is!) In other words, the finished piece is a manipulation of a medium; my particular medium happens to be people and events which are not dependent on the camera's presence in order to exist. Obviously the moment one chooses a camera angle or makes a shot- scale decision, any notion of "authenticity" is out the window. In my present work, I'm just trying to make the viewer aware of that fact--since many folks outside of the professional realm really do hang on to the notion that documentary work is somehow "truthful." (Maybe journalism has a different social function as 'reportage.' ) As previously stated, making art by intruding on real people's lives gets a bit sticky. I try as much as possible to let subjects direct things within certain frameworks. But in no way could one consider it a collaboration. It does raise all kinds of interesting questions about creator/subject/viewer positioning. Ultimately, I think it's impossible to know who is telling the story or who the story belongs to or how a story is being received. For me, it's just enough that a story exists that one may choose to relate to if one wishes. This past week, I had the honor of having lunch with Isabel Allende who explained to me that most of the seemingly far-out elements of her novels are based on real events (she was a journalist for many years). So, if the story speaks, why pigeon-hole it as fictional, factual, etc.? To answer Cal's inquiry, the Appalachian piece ended up as a technical disaster, but I learned a lot about my social/human responsibilities as a film/videomaker. Carol Beck Film Studies, Keene State College