Four relentless door-to-door salesmen deal with constant rejection, homesickness and inevitable burnout as they go across the country selling very expensive bibles to low-income Catholic families.

The Maysles brothers decided they wanted to be the first to make a nonfiction feature film (which turned out to be "Salesman") after learning that Truman Capote had made the claim that his newly released book "In Cold Blood" was a nonfiction novel. The film was made on a low budget; just under seven minutes into the film, one of the two cameras used can be seen in the shot. The hand-held microphone used to record the film's sound is visible in other shots.

When Salesman was completed, there were challenges in showing the film. As the Maysles brothers tried to get distribution, they were told that the content was too depressing and realistic for the public. Indeed, there are depressing aspects. But even more, this tells me two things: one, it is no surprise that door-to-door salesmen have died out, because this approach is pretty awful, forcing people to purchase something they do not want and cannot afford.

But what is even stranger is the sale of the Bible. $40 for a Bible in the 1960s? I feel like any corner bookstore would have sold one for under $5 easily, and didn't most people already own one? And then you see these men interacting away from customers, and they are rather coarse men, not what you might call the most principled Christians. Is this right? Pushing of the Bible by people who clearly are not strict adherents?

Albert and David Maysles, apparently working from a personal source (the four men, nicknamed the Gipper, the Rabbit, the Bull, and the quasi-lead being the Badger, all come from or around the Irish-Boston section that the Maysles came from as well),found themselves a kind of theatrical core to what is, in terms of the actual shooting, about as straight-on as can be in documentary cinema. Al Maysles, especially, would make the bulk of his work in the future just like this- shooting with just him on camera and a sound-guy (in this case David)- and it has the feel of being right there and up front in the situations. What the Maysles called "direct-cinema", as opposed to the term Cinema Verite. It's not exactly a news program, but it's not your run-of-the-mill documentary either. While the brothers put their subjective view on the material by, of course, choosing what not to show (who knows if the men made more sales than were actually shown, or if there were more quiet moments or conversations in the motel rooms that rambled further),and in the editing process of who to cut to or what to close-in or back away from, it feels always fresh in perspective.

We're really right there seeing what is going on during the sale, as well as seeing how the men "unwind" by complaining about the sales they didn't make, the things that kept them from what they had to do, which was put forward the "#1 bestselling book in the world" for 49.99 a month to your average Joe or Mrs. Joe down the street. What the Maysles don't ask is to make you really put a very harsh judgment either way; by both sides presented, of the men in the desperate but completely professional and slick act of selling (selling themselves probably just as much as the bible, and how getting the sale or not suddenly changes them in front of the prospective customer),and how they are behind closed doors, shooting the s***, playing cards, or driving in their cars. Most especially fascinating, however, is that the Maysles put a theatrical ring to the proceedings, like watching characters from a stage play ala O'Neill in the great drama of life- characters, by the way, who can be talked about just as real people as figures in a film.

Seeing Salesman gives a glimpse not so much into religion- they're not sermonizing here, the Maysles- but into a specific world that doesn't exist the way it used to, where men followed along leads from previous sellers, and sometimes made it through the door or not at all. There's a disarming quality to the production; we should think that these guys aren't the ones to like or identify with, that we're the ones getting peddled to and made to feel like we MUST get this or else and so on. By opening it up just by a glimpse, and how the 16mm camera goes around with the freedom of the fly-on-the-wall, it opens up the perspective. It's one of the Maysles's very best, a piece of true Americana as a time capsule.

This film is about the trials and tribulations of four door-to-door Bible salesmen in 1968, on the eve of when their occupation was about to become extinct. Of course, the filmmakers could not know that at the time, but this fact is what adds to the sadness of this film today. The salesmen are four New Englanders named Paul "The Badger" Brennan, James "The Rabbit" Baker, "The Bull" and "The Gipper", their nicknames being derived from their individual sales tactics. Despite the holiness of their products, this really is a cutthroat business, as is made evident in some of the sales meetings that are shown. The main character, "The Badger", reminds me of Jack Lemmon's character in Glengarry Glen Ross. Life - and his profession - have beaten him down, and none of his sales pitches are working as he talks to one indifferent potential customer after another. These guys are always looking for a new angle to make the sale, but usually just about everything they come up with is not successful. Remember, this was in the days when people were unafraid to open their doors to strangers, and equally unafraid to be rude to them. The film not only makes you feel what these unsuccessful salesmen are feeling, it a time capsule for the end of the '60s, and a portrait of an occupation that doesn't really exist anymore due to telemarketing, Internet sales, two-income families meaning nobody is home during the day, and finally the fact that adult strangers on your doorstep are assumed to be potential criminals.

Paul Brennan really seems to have the saddest story of the four. His sales are dwindling, and he is really too old to start over in another occupation. Paul's sales become so poor that at one point that he is partnered with a more aggressive salesman so Paul can observe his technique in the hope that something will rub off on Paul. This younger, sharper salesman, who obviously has not yet developed a tolerance for human frailty, is constantly snapping at Paul for his poor technique and unenthusiastic delivery. If you're an older person who has ever worked for a younger one, you know what I'm talking about. As sorry as you may feel for him though, when we see Paul using the possibly superstitious beliefs of his customers to get them to buy products they may not be able to afford, you have mixed feelings about the man. Is Paul purely being manipulative, or is he resorting to desperate means to survive? Probably a little bit of both is true. Paul realizes that his time as a salesman is coming to a close, and it's not like he has a big bank account to fall back on. Such career struggles are expected when you are in your 20's, but by the time you are Paul's age you are expecting something more...more job stability, more respect, more financial security.

The film does add some humor throughout the film to keep the viewing experience from being too much like a funeral for both Paul's career and the profession of door-to-door salesman itself. Sometimes the salesmen lighten up and even have some camaraderie in their conversations. Sometimes there is a funny remark from the "no sale" Boston housewives the salesmen encounter, and sometimes there are even funnier remarks from the salesmen as they leave a house where they've been refused. There's also an episode in a hotel pool in the middle of the night that is rather humorous.

I'd say that even though the film has a very dated look to it, you should watch it because what it has to say about the human spirit, aging ungracefully, choosing the wrong career, and then failing at that career is timeless.