Woodstock Review: The Natural State Examines the Contradictory State of Non-Belief

“Could I have wasted 35 years of my life?” It’s a question asked by someone who was a follower of “anti-guru” U. G. Krishnamurti in the documentary The Natural State. Directed by Matthew Dougherty, the film is constructed from hundreds of hours of video captured by Julie Thayer, a wealthy New Yorker who upended her life in 1989 to follow Krishnamurti. Current, reflective interviews are cut with this archival footage to build a portrait of this “enlightened” man who spent his life questioning enlightenment. Following an abstract, life-changing incident in 1967, U. G. Krishnamurti abandoned his family and a life that had been spent preparing him to be a holy man. After years following Jiddu Krishnamurti, another older Indian spiritual figure, U. G. had become convinced Jiddu’s teachings were fraudulent and made it his life’s work to challenge them. U. G.’s followers seek him out and get “blasted” by him. Essentially, to be insulted and ridiculed for their material desires and egotistical worries. Thayer became one of his most devout pupils, and one of his easiest targets for ridicule. “Why are you doing this to me, Julie?” he asks her at one point.

The Natural State is a challenging text, in no small part because U. G. himself is challenging. He refused donations and followers, yet invited the fame that came with his following (this last fact is debated by the talking heads in the back half of the film). As evidenced in Thayer’s videos, all he promised those who listened to him was nothing. He claimed to live in a natural state, in which he was hyper aware of the uselessness in searching for meaning. Despite this, many of those who listened to his words and spend time around him speak to the energy he carried around with. One of the film’s executive producers, filmmaker Jane Campion, recalls this first-hand. A friend of U.G.’s, she speaks about the “energy field” that she felt around him, and how it made her feel almost drunk. Even in his death, some of his followers recall strange phenomena that occurred. Others disregard these memories, determined that his death was ordinary, like he insisted his life was.

There is also something to the aesthetic of Thayer’s camcorder footage. Grainy and abrupt, it has a percussive quality that somehow make U.G. appear more mean and more honest at the same time. It fits with the complex tones that Dougherty is trying to bring to the fore. At one point, somebody asks Julie why she’s filming everything. She responds that she “feels safer” behind the camera. It’s clear these people searching to be freed of their ego via U.G.’s insults are searching for something more than that. Watching the film, I kept thinking of the quote attributed to Groucho Marx: “I wouldn’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member.” There’s also the contradictory idea of identifying as an atheist. By subscribing to a uniform non-belief, you negate the whole presumed reason of not believing in something.

Throughout the documentary, U. G. Krishnamurti mostly seems genuine in his non-beliefs, while his followers seem earnestly curious and thoughtful in their pursuit of modesty. And Dougherty is frankly brave to offer up a film with no good answers. Is anybody bettered by U. G’s teachings? Or lack thereof? Bettered by his meanness? Maybe, maybe not. Ultimately, it only matters if the person being helped believes they are being helped. But then we’re right back to that initial problem: believing in something. And ’round and ’round we go.

The Natural State screens at the 2026 Woodstock Film Festival.