Modern Angst Through The Documentarian’s Lens

Lately, thanks to Netflix’s streaming video service, I’ve gone a bit docu-mental. And I’ve noticed a common theme to what I’ve been watching, for the most part, that of ordinary people unsatisfied with their lives, or remaining determined to achieve something despite the odds. Of wanting to be respected for something, or of wanting to be someone.

Among my favorites in the recent  crop of documentaries I’ve been watching is The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters, about one man’s attempt to beat the world record high score in the arcade version of Donkey Kong. Steve Wiebe is a guy who’s had a lot of bad breaks in his life, and when he sets out to break the record held by Billy Mitchell he’s met with initial distrust by the insular vintage arcade communty that holds Mitchell up as a icon. Mitchell comes across as the villain of the piece, with his  smart mouth, disco-era hair, and refusal to meet the emotionally raw and proverbial nice guy next door Wiebe in head-to-head competition — but as we all know films are edited for dramtic effect, and who can say what the real truth is? Regardless, this is a great piece of nostaligia for those of us who remember old arcade games (even if we weren’t any good at them!), and a real celebration of the underdog. A recent look at TwinGalaxies (the offical score keepers for events of this sort) shows the tetter-totter war for the Donkey Kong championship is still very much in the offing.

Speaking of wanting to be the best at something, Bigger, Stronger, Faster takes a look at the appeal of steroids for people in pursuit of a better body. The remarkable thing about this film is that, despite being the project of steroid user Chris Bell, it is an even-handed and sober look at the phenomenon and by no means an endorsement. While it refreshingly debunks the myths of this demonized substance, Bell’s real question is what is it about American culture that compels these extremes of ambition he and his brothers (all users) are dealing with? Not just a film for those interested in bodybuilding, weightlifting, and ‘juice,’ but rather a look at body-image and self-esteem issues from the woefully underrepresented male point of view.

Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock? is the question Teri Horton asked when told that the funny painting she bought at a thrift store for five bucks might just be a Jackson Pollock worth tens of millions. But Horton is from the wrong side of the tracks — a hard-drinking septuagenarian ex-truck driver and trailer park resident — and the art world just won’t take her seriously. This movie deals with her fight to have her painting considered genuine, and presents some pretty compelling forensic evidence that it is indeed what it seems. The culture clash between the worlds of Middle America and High Art is the real story here, and feisty, plain-spoken Horton’s refusal to part with her painting for less than she believes it’s worth is at once admirable and maddening in the face of the utter contempt her claim has been met with.

Sticking with the Middle America theme, there’s American Movie, a look at one man’s attempt to finish an independent horror film against a backdrop of hopelessness, poverty, and alcoholism. Mark Borchardt finds himself in a dead end situation at thirty, contenting himself with odd jobs and binge drinking in the bleak setting of the poor sections of Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin. But he really, really wants to make a movie — and make one he does. Alternately funny and depressing, this film illuminates so many aspects of our society, from the lack of opportunity vast segments of our population have to the magnetic hold the American Dream still possesses, and shows how staying determined to chase that dream can perhaps be the most liberating and heroic thing a person can do.

Speaking of heroes — who wouldn’t want to be one? Or a villain for that matter? Darkon (available free from Hulu and Snag Films) follows a group of LARPers through their real life — and un-real life — struggles for respect, a sense of purpose and community, and the need for a creative outlet. I’ve blogged about it already, here and here, but to summarize I’ll just say I found the simple honesty of the folks in this documentary refreshing, and their indulgence in the pastime of ‘make believe’ almost noble.

The Sex Pistols were anything but noble, but they embodied the collective angst of a disinherited generation of young people in Britain’s dark decade of the seventies. In The Filth and The Fury we get the story of the Sex Pistols as told by themselves, and their infamous journey to legendary status that was like the quick, final convulsion of the head-kicked corpse of rock n’ roll. The trashy embodiments of raw aggression and dissatisfaction with a system that promised their generation ‘No Future,’  the Pistols thrashed across the world stage for two years before they broke down and broke up. They came out of nowhere and retreated back there almost as quickly, but in the interim they changed the face of music, fashion, and maybe pop culture itself. That they articulated so many of the frustrations of being human in the modern age that the rest of the documentaries I’ve profiled have touched on is why they are on this list — and the truth that the angst of modern man hasn’t seemed to change after thrity years is why they are still relevent.