The Devil and Daniel Johnston (2005)

The biopic is essentially comparable to literary version of the biography. Everything depends on the interest, a priori, can awaken in the viewer / reader a peculiar kind, and of course, also by the sitter's personality. Therefore, it is a genre that, at first, has as many detractors as well as unconditional.

In the case of "The Devil and Daniel Johnston" I must admit that the second premise was not fulfilled, the character I woke up. After hearing so many positive comments about the movie I saw almost all of my expectations dashed. Not that the film lacks interest. Even the beginning of the film seems to presage the best when looking at home theater images that Johnston conducted in early youth. This is precisely where one appreciates the sensitivity and imaginative capacity of the sitter and their subsequent musical side. To my understanding, Daniel Johnston should have followed the path of filmmaking. His family are really funny parodies, acidic and very creative. Also deserve attention comics who performed at the time and loving obsession that reflected many of them by a girl he had idealized these are details that describe a hypersensitive personality and, therefore, very vulnerable.

From here, it's another movie. The action focuses on his mental crisis in the wake of attending a musical concert and have one or several bad experiences with psychotropic drugs which, together with its previous interest ends up bound to the world of indie music. In this regard, the only thing I see in the documentary are monotonous melodies while clubbing a piano or an arrhythmic scratch guitar.

It is fair to recognize that the only thing I know Johnston's musical work is through this movie, but what I heard, I didn't like much of anything. I think we took a wrong turn and that in his particular descent into hell (with that obsessive obfuscation by the figure of the devil) has much to do an oppressive religious education can be seen through their parents but it does not show the movie. At the end, the inner demons of the subconscious and eventually appear to embody the lyrics of their songs.

To avoid being too negative, I will add another option for lovers of the biopic, a title that makes extraordinary portrait of another author, also marginal in their own way, but I consider essential to the history of the comic and the counterculture Made in USA. I refer to "Crumb" (Terry Zwigoff, 1994).

5/10