The discourse surrounding films tends to isolate
documentaries from basically every other kind of production. Sure, there are
mockumentary hybrids that blur that line, but overall, people expect a degree
of facticity from documentaries that isn’t normally expected (or at least expected
as much) of fiction or even fictionalised versions of real events.
Considering how the nature of filmmaking involves a certain element of
constructing reality in its very process, that facticity isn’t always
guaranteed or even aimed for. But every so often, a documentary takes this idea
on-board and basically turns into its own statement on what makes a documentary
qualify as such.
This production starts out good and simple, looking at the
continuing career of wild-man magician The Amazing Johnathan, years after
doctors claimed that he would have died from a heart condition. His place as a
self-described prankster looms over the bulk of the footage we see in more ways
than one, as things take a turn for the farcical when it’s revealed that
director Ben Berman (better known for his work with Tim & Eric and Comedy
Bang! Bang!) isn’t the only guy trying to capture Johnathan’s life on camera.
Far bloody from it, apparently, as there’s several different camera crews
working on separate documentaries about Johnathan, all at the same time.
If anyone out there reading this is starting to get Andy Kaufman
flashbacks, join the club; social pranksters tend to immediately muddy the
waters when it comes to showing the audience the ‘real’ them. And yeah, seeing
the game of Duelling Documentarians can get pretty surreal… but what makes this
truly strange is how that ends up being a mere side dish compared to the
production’s primary tone: Deconstructing the entire idea of one
documentary about Johnathan at this stage of his life, let alone several.
In a post-YouTube age, just about anyone can make a documentary.
As with most other creative fields, the Internet has made the competition a lot
more visible and the chances of getting noticed a lot dimmer. And as we see Ben
struggle with the idea of competing with other film crews (along with whether
that’s even the situation to begin with), he delves into his own morbid
fascinations with death and capturing life as it happens, colliding with the
inherently morbid premise of this entire film and what would make a ‘good
ending’ for it.
It’s the kind of artistic narcissism, where misfortune
happening to others gets turned into raw fuel for the creative process, that
goes into a lot of media out there, and as vindictive as it can come
across… it can’t be avoided. It’s just a side-effect of how the creative
process basically takes in anything and everything as inspiration, and it’s
through that lens that this film makes its biggest impacts.
Ben Berman already wins points for how he doesn’t completely
lean into the ‘grand illusion’ take on this whole thing, which might have been
interesting but also would’ve been a little too predictable. Instead, by doing
what the best documentarians do and reflect on his own experiences along with
the subject’s, Ben makes an incredibly bizarre rollercoaster ride that doesn’t
feel the need to emphasises a fatal conclusion to make its mark, something even
the better ‘swan song’ docos fumble with on occasion.
It asks some questions about the nature of reality when
talking about someone who makes a living out of distorting it, but it asks a
lot more about why the end of a life needs to happen before that life is worth
recording. All mixed in with pitch-shifted farm animals in the soundtrack, and
debates on the ethics of smoking meth on-camera, just in case this sounds too
far outside the realm of Awesome Show, Great Job!
No comments:
Post a Comment