Documentary Review: ‘Moses’ – A Gentle Reminder to See the People We Walk Past

You never quite expect to find a story like this on the corner of a bustling city street, let alone one that unfolds over 15 years and echoes with the weight of music, memory, and resilience. Yet that’s exactly what ‘Moses’, the moving documentary by Fran Guijarro, delivers a quietly powerful portrait of a man who refuses to be erased by circumstance.

Set against the textured, shifting backdrop of San Francisco’s Financial District, the film follows Alvin Moses Carbins, a man who has lived unhoused for over two decades. But don’t mistake this for another documentary that guilt-trips you into thinking about the homeless. It is simply a tender observation of a man who, despite the odds, insists on being seen.

Moses is not what you expect from a man who has weathered so much. Stationed daily outside a Starbucks he calls “the office,” he meets passersby with a warm greeting and an open heart. There’s no begging. No performance. Just an invitation to connect. His charisma and sense of humour are undeniable, but what draws you in is his remarkable capacity for conversation. He doesn’t just talk to strangers, he also listens, and in doing so, creates a rare moment of humanity in a place many people have trained themselves to look away from.

Filmmaker Fran Guijarro first met Moses in 2007 while he was still attending art school on a scholarship. What began as a fleeting moment of curiosity evolved into a deep, enduring friendship and eventually, this film. The years that follow are documented with care and commitment, as we learn about Moses’s life before the streets. He had a promising music career in the ’70s, a childhood marked by absence, and the quiet unravelling brought on by addiction, estrangement, and loss.

The storytelling in this documentary film is thoughtful and poetic. Structured in chapters, the film invites us into Moses’s world not with dramatic highs or crushing lows, but through rhythm and reflection. Music, especially, becomes a central motif not just as a talent Moses once had, but as a language through which his story finds harmony again. The archival footage of his earlier days brings a layered richness to the narrative, reminding us that every unhoused person has a before, and perhaps an after, still waiting to be written.

What makes Moses more compelling is its refusal to simplify. It does not sanitise his struggles or wrap his life in a tidy redemption arc. Instead, it sits with the complexity. It acknowledges that communication is Moses’s not just a way to survive, but a way to stay visible in a world that often chooses to look away.

In many ways, this film feels like it is not just about Moses. It is also about Fran Guijarro, and what it means to bear witness with empathy, not an agenda or one to call people to action. Spending 15 years on a story isn’t just a creative choice. It feels more like a personal investment, a form of trust-building that reshapes the filmmaker-subject dynamic into something more intimate, more honest. You also get to see the filmmaker’s growth as a filmmaker through the entire film. From how he appreciates and uses the technology available to how he frames and captures each shot.

Yes, at two hours the film sometimes lingers longer than it needs to, and there are moments where the pacing loses some of its rhythm. But even in those quieter stretches, the story breathes. It reminds you that real life is not always tightly edited. It unfolds slowly, messily, and meaningfully.

‘Moses‘ isn’t a film that demands your attention. It is one that you can just watch casually but it does earn your attention and focus. And by the time it’s over, you may find yourself walking a little slower, looking a little closer, and speaking a little more openly with the people you once walked past.

Fran Guijarro in 15 years has indeed made a film that asks you to pay attention to the humanity that we often overlook.

I will rate this documentary film 3.5 out of 5 stars