It's easier to capture truth in fictional films than in documentaries.
When you create from nothing, you build upon emotional truth. You don't have to deal with reality most of the time, unless you want to, and if you play fast and loose with what's real, you can get away with it as long as the emotional truth remains intact.
But when you work with a documentary subject, you're shackled to the truth of their existence, and you're faced with the complex issue of creating a film that will retain an integrity toward that subject while at the same time representing the truths you've decided upon about that subject. It's a thorny web of pacts to navigate, and it can easily result in betrayal, either of the filmmaker's own ideas or of the subject he's chosen to represent.
American Movie has an especially dicey set of circumstances to navigate. As the story of independent filmmaker Mark Borchardt unfolds, so also do the conflicting dimensions of his character. He pours all his energy tirelessly into his amateur films, yet he also has three kids by the same ex-girlfriend that the audience doesn't meet until a half-hour into the movie. He hammers his Uncle Bill shamelessly for money one moment, and the next he's bathing Uncle Bill on Thanksgiving Day before mixing him a Peppermint Schnapps and Sprite. He's working whole-hog on his short horror film Coven one day, and pushes forward gung ho on his drama Northwestern the next.
The greatest compliment you can pay to Chris Smith and Sarah Price, the chief filmmakers behind Movie, is that they've navigated that tangle and remained true to themselves and Mark. They've managed to represent Mark faithfully and with complexity. He hasn't been dumbed down or reduced to a mockery; his flaws are as apparent on the screen as his many strengths. They do not sugarcoat this story or this man's daily life. Northwest Milwaukee is a bleak landscape, but it's also drenched in earthy reality, and they bring that reality into every moment of the movie.
A lot of this movie's success depends upon Mark's own character. If he's a jerk outright, the audience can't fall in love with him. He's not a jerk outright. He can be a jerk, but he can also be maddeningly persuasive, affectionate and adorable, intensely passionate and gutbustingly bizzare. You won't believe some of the words that escape this man's mouth. He's a fountain of hilarious soundbites. He's jampacked with dreams of art on his own terms, yet at the same time, he's grounded in a very midwestern sense of himself. He knows his limits; he just refuses to accept any of them.
As you watch Mark's story unfold, from his first Northwestern production meeting to the completion of a completely different film, you will grow angry at him, frustrated with his inability to remain true to his own dreams. You'll be proud of his occasional dilligence, those afternoons he spends locked in his car at the airport with a notepad and a thermos of coffee to work on his scripts. You'll be touched by the genuine affection he shows his children, even if you sense that his priorities aren't quite straight.
But you'll never laugh at Mark. That's key. That's where Smith and Price have truly honored Mark's personality. He's a crazy figure, and I imagine the temptation might have been strong to turn the film into a wacky romp through the crazy burned-out life of this guy in Milwaukee who actually thinks he has a shot at achieving his dreams. Instead, they take Mark seriously when he's serious, and laugh with him when he laughs at himself, which is often. There are plenty of great laughs in Movie, but whenever you find yourself laughing at the characters or situations, often the action will quickly cut away to another member of Mark's inner circle or even Mark himself, laughing along with you. Their very real sense of humor about themselves is well-represented, but you're never encouraged to laugh at them for any reason.
That's great honest filmmaking, and it's the foundation on which Movie's riveting story is built. You'll become wrapped up in Mark's story, in his misadventures with best friend Mike Schank, in his touching relationship with his mom. And you'll get so involved because Smith and Price have done their job: they've honored their subject with a carefully-represented reality. That truth is not only stranger than fiction, it's more honest, funny and affectionate than any fiction could ever be.