Raking the ashes of the great dictators of the 20th century, San Francisco filmmaker and former psychotherapist Rosenblatt uncovers the brutal banality of their private fads and foibles, in simulated first-person narration over manipulated actuality footage. Like his The Smell of Burning Ants (winner of the Grand Prix 1995 MIFF Short Film Competition), a macabre and mournful meditation on the monstrous masculine, but this post mortem dissection of mean little men with big appetites also reinstates the anatomical body in historical narrative.