Loading ...Film Review: American Movie
By Evan ~ April 16th, 2008. Filed under: review.
I don’t know how I arrived at this point in my life without knowing that a film like American Movie existed. One of my co-workers handed the DVD to me yesterday and said that I needed to watch it as soon as possible. The description on the back of the case said it was the hit of the 1999 Sundance Film Festival, and it was the story of a man’s obsession to make movies. Horrifying images of Be Kind, Rewind-like terribleness flooded my brain, but I was informed that this was much, much different — and infinitely better.
On the surface, American Movie is a documentary film about the making of an independent film by Milwaukee filmmaker Mark Borchardt. At the outset, Borchardt has his heart set on finishing a project called Northwestern, which he has dreamed of making for some time. Only the first fifteen minutes of the film are about the making of Northwestern. The project was fraught with problems, and eventually abandoned. Instead, Borchardt decides to revisit a film he already started six years ago, Coven (he pronounces it “COE-ven”, while everyone else involved says “CUH-ven”), in an attempt to raise enough money to bankroll the making of Northwestern. The film is filed with genuinely hysterical moments, despite the fact that Borchardt spirals into depression and cannot seem to steer clear of various filmmaking disasters.
At least four times during the movie, someone walked into the room and said, “This is my favorite movie ever!”, which made me feel even dumber for never having known it existed. The main reason for such lofty praise is the combination of Borchardt and his best friend Mike Schank, a reformed alcohol and drug addict who spends his life in a (prescription-heavy?) happy daze. The former is a dim-witted Midwesterner, a high school dropout living with his parents whose appearance is a mixture of redneck and dufus. He’s got the perfect blend of oversized glasses, awkward hair, and fast-talking, vulgarity-rich communication skills. Schank is a barely-functioning acid case with a slower-than-slow redneck twang.
Borchardt has many endearing qualities. The ways in which he interacts with family members and friends are remarkably touching. One could easily laugh at him, Schank, or Borchardt’s fatalistic uncle Bill, but they are not intended to be viewed as comedic foils. They are a filmmaker chasing a life better than the one he’s been dealt, a recovering addict, and a dying man who wants to see his nephew succeed. For all the laughs in the film — and there are many, one cannot help but sit there and silently hope that things will work out for them. Borchardt’s amateurish horror films might be of embarrassing poor quality, but his honesty and ambition is enough to force viewers to look harder at the man his work for signs of talent. And he actually has some. The DVD is bundled with the thirty-five-minute long Coven, and for all the backwoods goofiness there are some beautiful shots. It is obvious Borchardt has a good eye.
There are several moments in the film where Borchardt attempts to articulate his dream, but far too often it is sputtered and confusing. The best he can do to affirm his commitment to success is to describe the plight of others, the people who talk about their dreams but settle for more comfortable lives, never achieving what they once longed for. His life might be miserable, but he is doing exactly what he wants to be doing, and his persistence is infectious. We should all be so fortunate as to follow through and pursue our childhood dreams.
American Movie is a fine film. I’m sorry it took so long for it to find me.
