Still, what's noticeable is how determinedly Morris avoids sneering of any kind, possibly because he realises pointing a camera at people for any length of time and fashioning a documentary from the results is itself a perilously niche activity; from the off, this documentarist was sincerely interested in his fellow humanoids, however curious their concerns, and he set about drawing out their stories, methods and peccadillos so as to demonstrate there is no such thing as ordinary or typical American life. What Morris wound up filming here was both proof of existence - several thousand feet of richly textured celluloid that showed such folks were once living here among us, whether for decades or just a fleeting afternoon - and a fine advert for showing up in a place with an open mind and allowing the folks you encounter to start shooting their mouths off. At the back of it all is a tacit understanding that our fellow humans are fascinating and sometimes magic, because they can give you material that even the greatest writer would be hard-pushed to script. This town's unofficial historian even goes so far as to gift Morris a worldview and methodology that would come to sustain the filmmaker over what's so far been a near-fifty year career. Looking out on Vernon's unusually marshy swamps, this unassuming subject is minded to recount a joke he'd once heard about two sailors at sea. Sailor one observes "there's a lot of water out there". Sailor two replies: "Yeah, and that's just the top of it".
Vernon, Florida is currently streaming via NOW.

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