When depressed filmmaker Ross McElwee leaves New York to return home South to film a documentary retracing General Sherman's infamous March to the Sea, he becomes sidetracked upon his girlfriend leaving him, and the project quickly devolves into a profile of the former flames he seeks out. Sherman's March is exorbitant, overlong, and occasionally amusing (particularly in a running gag involving Burt Reynolds) film that may have played better if I could have seen it removed from the memories of today's self-indulgent documentarians who pollute the field, the likes of which McElwee surely inspired.
