Keith Maitland’s documentary, “Dear Mr. Brody” recounts the absolutely wild 15 minutes of fame that Michael Brody, a margarine heir, captured in 1970 when he announced he’d give away millions of dollars to anyone and everyone.

All they had to do was ask.

Brody’s story is ultimately a tragic one. Some combination of family trauma, drug use, mental health issues and the people who surrounded him led to his giveaway flaming out almost instantly. Brody himself spiraled out of control first in, and then out of, the glare of the ensuing media frenzy.

But what makes Maitland’s movie poignant and powerful are the scenes focusing instead on the people in need, who wrote letters by the thousands or showed up outside Brody’s door.

It started when Melissa Robyn Glassman, who was working for Hollywood producer Ed Pressman, uncovered in his office a seemingly endless cache of unopened letters that had been sitting in tubs for nearly half a century. She contacted her college roommate, Sarah Wilson, who was a photographer hoping she’d take pictures of some of the artwork accompanying the letters.

Wilson is married to the documentarian Maitland who pitched Glassman and Pressman on the idea of a documentary telling the story of Brody but also of the letters. They even tracked down some of the letter writers or their children and had them re-visit that tumultuous period in their lives and in American history. (Glassman appears on camera and is a producer; Wilson serves as cinematographer and producer.)

The film will be on Discovery + on April 28th. Maitland and Glassman recently spoke by video about the movie, the letters, the people they met along the way. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Q. Melissa, what was your reaction when you first found the letters?

Glassman: I didn’t know the volume at first. There was just one box on the floor and I asked if I could open it. All the letters were sent to the same person and postmarked 1970, so it was like a time capsule.

When you open a letter that has never been opened, you’re letting the person’s story out after sitting somewhere unacknowledged for 50 years. There’s something magical about that.

The ones that were most interesting to me were the ones that felt you were reading someone’s diary, where they were spilling open their heart and lives to a stranger.

Q. Were there people who were resistant to telling their story on camera?

These people are older folks and when we’d call and say, “We’re calling about a millionaire who was giving away money,” we kept finding people who had been warned by their middle-aged children to be aware of scammers. We had to convince people we weren’t trying to pick their pocket.

But we also discovered a trend among older men — this work relies on people being vulnerable, and so many said, “I’m not interested in reflecting on that part of my life; it was a low point and I’ve picked myself up and gotten through that.” When I’d say there’s something to be learned from their experiences, they swatted the idea away. That was disappointing but also enlightening.

Q. What happens to the letters now? Will you keep opening them and reaching out to people?

Maitland: We hope to continue reaching out in some small way. We do open some at film festivals and screenings.

We have a fantasy about doing a podcast or DVD bonus features, but there isn’t funding for that, so unless some hippie millionaire watches the movie and says, “Let’s keep it going,” I’m not sure we’ll be able to.

Glassman: Most are in an archive at Columbia University now. They are organizing them by state so people can come in and look at them.

Maitland: It’s a great resource for screenwriters. There’s so much narrative in these letters; they’re like versions of “The Grapes of Wrath.” One woman told us off-camera some other details about how the log cabin her family was living in then was actually a historic building on a Civil War battleground. The steps to the cabin were grave markers. They were squatting but the community looked the other way because the family was so poor.

Q. What do you ultimately make of Brody’s intentions and can you tease out how much his drug use and mental illness factored into his actions?

Maitland: One frustration is that we never get to know Michael fully. The people who knew him had their own perspective, but it was difficult to paint a full portrait. I see a young man who had grown up with all the privileges of wealth but none of the advantages of family and connection.

When he found connection and family with Renee [a woman he bought drugs from and married soon after], he chose to express that in a big bold way.

Michael and Renee attended Woodstock four months before this whole thing and I think his intentions at the start are really good – they’re noble and bold and a reflection of the ‘60s. He thinks he can inspire other millionaires to join his quest and make significant change.

Q. Any chance millionaires or billionaires will see your film and be inspired to give directly to individuals on a grand scale, albeit in a more thought-out and pragmatic way?

Maitland: We never had any fantasy our film might inspire that, but Mackenzie Scott has given away more money in the time we made this film than I can conceive of. And we saw an article about a man in Albany who gave away $100 a day and $1000 once a month for a year to people in need. There are artists on Twitter saying, “If you send me your college report card and got straight A’s, I’ll cover next semester.” So there is an inclination for direct giving.

And there’s the fantasy of Universal Basic Income, which would reshape our society drastically.

Glassman: My hope is that people who see it are inspired on a personal level to give, not just financially but to take care of each other. The letters to Brody that were most inspiring were people saying, “I don’t have a lot of money, but here’s two dollars to help when your money runs out.”

Maitland: I really saw in the letters that some of the most generous people are the ones who are themselves under the greatest pressure. They can empathize with others in a way the truly privileged rarely can.

I just had lunch with a wealthy woman to hit her up for money for a new project, just $5,000 to get the ball rolling. I got every kind of “Yeah, but” obstacle. I told her, “I’ve discovered that people who have an extra $1500 in their life will give you $1000 but if you ask people who have an extra $150,000, what you get is a bunch of questions and concerns.”

Related Articles

Q. How did she respond?

It went right over her head that I was talking about her.

Q. Did the letters change your outlook toward money or life?

Maitland: Melissa also always made note of the people who weren’t writing about money but who were writing to say thank you for making me sit down and think about what matters to me, to weigh the question of what I have in my life.

That’s a lesson I always need to be reminded of — to have gratitude for what I have, the opportunities I’ve been given and not to dwell on what I don’t have or the failures.

If the film gives people a chance to check into their lives and see the world in a different way, then I think it’s a success.