Author William Gibson created a revolution in popular culture with his books Neuromancer, Burning Chrome, and Mona Lisa Overdrive, in which he explored how the rise of digital technology in a socially and politically unstable time impacted people's lives (and vice versa); among other things, Gibson coined the phrase "cyberspace," and his work has had a seismic effect in science fiction circles. No Maps For These Territories examines Gibson's life and work, featuring several interviews with the author as he discusses his creative process, his feelings about the rise of the new digital culture, and the influence of his literary mentor William S. Burroughs. Bono and The Edge from U2, also appear, reading passages from Gibson's work and providing musical interpretations of his work. ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide
Ellen Dux - Co-producer, Mark Neale - Director, Rochelle Ford - Editor, Mary Buffett - Executive Producer, Mark Pellington - Executive Producer, Tom Gorai - Executive Producer, Chris Paine - Executive Producer, The Edge - Composer (Music Score), Daniel Lanois - Composer (Music Score), Tomandandy - Composer (Music Score), Chris Norr - Cinematographer, Grant Gee - Cinematographer, Mark Neale - Producer
On an overcast morning in 1999, William Gibson, father of cyberpunk and author of the cult-classic novel Neuromancer, stepped into a limousine and set off on a road trip around North America. The limo was rigged with digital cameras, a computer, a television, a stereo, and a cell phone. Generated entirely by this four-wheeled media machine, No Maps for These Territories is both an account of Gibson’s life and work and a commentary on the world outside the car windows. Here, the man who coined the word "cyberspace" offers a unique perspective on Western culture at the edge of the new millennium, and in the throes of convulsive, tech – driven change.
--taken from an account of the documentary featured on Docurama's website.[3]
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Content
During the documentary Gibson muses both on his past and the circumstances that led him to write what he wrote, as well as our present which, accordingly, is starting to resemble in many particulars the futures he has variously penned. He speculates on topics as wide-ranging as post-human society and mechanics, nanotechnology, drugs and drug culture, the effect of Neuromancer on his fans and his later writing career, and the normalisation of technology (that is, the ways in which we have justified the use of technology to the point that it is invisible to us, a concept similar to the "sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" concept of Arthur C. Clarke.) The documentary is extremely free-flowing and also highly personal, in that it allows one to gain an extremely close understanding of both the thought processes and internal psychological triggers of William Gibson. Occasionally prompted by an unseen Driver figure (female in voice) and sometimes communicating with outside figures (specifically, Jack Womack and Bono, who was also being filmed at the time, the final product being superimposed on an electronic billboard).
In the film, while recounting his childhood near Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, Gibson reflects on his early works, saying:
"I'm not a didactic writer, I hope. There's nothing I want less to be than someone couching a conscious message in prose fiction. But, I think one of the things that I see when I look back at my earlier work is a struggle to recognize and accept that the heart is the master and the head is the servant. And that that is always the case... except when it isn't the case we're in deep, deep trouble. And we're often in deep, deep trouble."[4]
Cinematography
The entire documentary revolves around footage taken from the car, either from front-facing cameras (presumably mounted near the dashboard or on the actual chassis) or from internally-mounted ones, fitted to center on Gibson, who sits in the back seat of the limousine. Only on one occasion does he leave the car, to wander up and down a favourite beach, and here he is also filmed, providing one of the documentary's iconic images, that of a weathered monochromatic Gibson in a long black coat being buffeted by the strong coastal breeze. Neale consistently plays with the recorded footage, reversing sections of the film while keeping others playing or stopping them entirely, fading between similar but fundamentally different pieces of footage, and even at one point combining footage of Gibson with the screen of an antique television as he describes the advent of television in the Southern United States.
