It's practically impossible to make a niche film about an artist or inventor that is going to capture their impact on their community, their development over time, and their lifestyle as an entire person with multiple interests. It takes longer than the 70 minutes that Moog runs, and also avid passion (not to mention finances) to keep it up over time so that you'll see the full extent of each part of that person's toil. Because it is such an enormous undertaking, writer/director Hans Fjellestad intelligently spends much of the insert to his film describing, and apologizing for, why he didn't follow the conventions of what you would normally expect in a documentary about someone.
The problem with Moog becomes that, because of these content limitations, you're left staring at one talking head conversation after another that struggles to make a cohesive fanboy-whole out of shreds of disparate information. It takes too much time for outsiders of the music industry to get any grip on when any of the events happened, or how the practice of synthesizing, still very much in use today, gained the momentum and respect that Robert Moog obviously deserves for putting it on the map.
Continue reading: Moog Review