“Look, they’re focusing on us now. First they bomb as much as they please, then they film.” Responding to the camera following him across a broken, muddy plot of land where the remains of a home lean into the rain, a Vietnamese villager disdains the effort to document his loss. Among the many self-aware moments in Peter Davis’ Hearts and Minds, this one is particularly tragic. There is no distinguishing between invasions for him, as he remains resilient and proud, as a neighbor leans down to pick up debris in the background. The camera pans with his movement to find another man, who stares directly into the lens as he puts a cigarette to his lips. Affronted perpetually, all they can do is watch those who watch them.