I'm a writer, and I'm a youngest child in my family, and I feel so validated.
As I say, I'm a writer, but I'm a negligent reader. I hadn't read Vonnegut (beyond some salient quotes) before seeing this movie, but I had seen him referenced by many creators whose work I respected, so this was a great opportunity to see in a few hours, what all the fuss was about.
We had the life story, well-told through photos, video and the meta-narrative about the 40-year arc of the film being made. As a writer who dabbles in film (or a video producer who writes) I found that fascinating as well.
But what transfixed me was Vonnegut's hunger for connection. His obsession with extended family. His loneliness in old age and his desire to be gone in his 80s (even threatening Pall Mall with a lawsuit for failing to deliver on their promise on every pack that smoking kills).
The best, most touching part of this film, was the fatherly love that Vonnegut had for this filmmaker and his wife; and the filmmaker's realisation that, while at first he was concerned that the friendship might get in the way of the film, at the end, the film must not get in the way of the friendship.