Omissions such as these and the complete absence other voices (either from supporter or detractors) makes this slice of nostalgia a celebration without proper explanation. We hop from the Falklands and miners' strikes to his work for the Stop The War Coalition, but find out nothing about any of them or Benn's role in them. Numerous bizarre decisions are made, but the biggest has to be the scenes that take place in a purpose-built set that recreates a cosy living room and open fire place where Benn sits and talks like he's auditioning for an episode of Jackanory, all the time surrounded by swirling front pages. The tone changes in the last 20 minutes of Will and Testament with the introduction of movie clips - Network (1976) and Glengarry Glen Ross (1992) to name but two - as well as footage of Benn's political ire at unfairness and inequality. And yet anger is the emotion that's missing most from Kite's flawed documentary, replaced by the sentimentalisation of the Left and the glory of political defeat. Bennites would be advised to look elsewhere.
This review was originally published on 27 June as part of our extensive Edinburgh International Film Festival coverage.