The self-effacing, painfully shy folk singer Karen Dalton was for a brief period the musical queen of Greenwich village in the sixties, inspiring Bob Dylan and seemingly the obverse of the far more outgoing Joan Baez. With her long raven hair, Native American roots and skill at bareback horse riding, Dalton epitomised the freewheeling spirit of the sixties. Living in a clapboard cabin in Boulder, Colorado, with her husband and kids, she graduated from rural dope-smoking traditionalism to a tragic path into ill-fated touring in Europe, heroin, and finally a tragically lonely demise in a mobile home in the forests outside Woodstock. Director Antille and her female crew travel along the lonesome roads she travelled, echoing that high lonesome sound with a surreal trio of masked women performing dreamlike states in a journey that is both doomed and suffused with beauty.