Boatbuilders

In an increasingly automated world, it’s more satisfying than ever to watch humans build something by hand. “Maker content” is enduringly popular on YouTube and anyone who has found themselves mesmerised by a bit of crafting is a readymade audience for Luke Lorentzen’s latest documentary, which has its world premiere in the Official Selection of Venice Film Festival. He takes a purely observational, Frederick Wiseman-style approach to the work of the Brooklin Boatyard in Maine over the course of the building of a 56ft boat from the ground up over 16 months in a film that proves to be as wholesome as it is patient.

It’s certainly a very different prospect to Lorentzen's 2019 adrenaline-fuelled Midnight Family about a for-profit ambulance in Mexico City. In the case of this line of work, it’s the detail rather than the rush that counts – although as the deadline looms for the boat to be ready there’s a certain amount of emotional as well as physical sweating going on.

Lorentzen begins shooting as another boat, Syntax, is leaving the yard, the owner’s attempts to smash a bottle on it not entirely going to plan. Soon the work begins on the next, Kiandra, a handsome, “cruising sailboat”, which is to be built to exacting specifications. Given that the town of Brooklin has a population of 827, the 60-odd workers at the yard are a not insignificant chunk of that and, as the boat begins to take shape, it’s easy to see why so many hands on deck are needed.

There are nuts the size of your hand being eased onto giant bolts, huge glue guns being applied with pin-point precision, the gloopy residue expertly scraped into pots, and ropes and wheels all working in sync. The workers, too, are like a finely oiled machine, meticulously measuring and operating as a team to help pieces of boat slip smoothly into place.

As the logistical operation continues, snippets of conversation offer biographical and community detail. One man, Trent – though you might not catch his name because this isn’t the sort of film that introduces its players – stands out. A project manager who, early on, we hear being gently chided by the management to be more assertive, shows how quiet industriousness can be a winning method. Away from the yard, we see him with his young son, Milo, and new baby as he displays a committed calmness that serves him well in both environments. At work, there are pep talks and conversations about the price of bronze as well as the stress of having to let someone go.

Beyond the boatyard, Lorentzen also captures the industry of various fishermen. In one sequence, we see lobsters efficiently trussed up, in another scallops being cracked open and cleaned. The observational approach means Boatbuilders goes with the flow, so we glean facts that don’t always lead to resolution – such as questions about lead in the water at Trent’s house. A more discursive documentary might also consider why this seems to be such a male-dominated trade and those curious about that will have to look for answers elsewhere.

Lorentzen, however, is not looking to question the process but to admire it and, acting as his own cinematographer, he elegantly achieves that goal. The attention to detail of the workers is everywhere, whether it’s cleaning specs of something from a tile or drilling the holes needed so two halves of the boat can be pushed together to the exact millimetre. As the boat takes to the waters and participates in a race, the director makes you aware that beneath all the wood and fixtures and fittings the most important element that has gone into the finished product is the love of the craft itself.

Reviewed on: 07 Sep 2026