I’M STILL HERE
Directed by Casey Affleck
Produced by Affleck, Joaquin Phoenix & Amanda White
Written by Affleck & Phoenix
Released by Magnolia Pictures
USA. 108 min. Rated R
 

Earlier this year saw the arrival of the wonderful documentary Exit Through the Gift Shop, about the self-made filmmaker/would-be artist Thierry Guetta (aka Mr. Brainwash) and his rise to unlikely success. I mention this at the start of this review of the new documentary I’m Still Here, about Joaquin Phoenix’s sudden “retirement” and his attempts to become a rapper, since both films carry some controversy. There’s speculation that Guetta may not even really be who he says he is, that, yes, there are Mr. Brainwash works, but they’re really the brainchild of that film’s director, street-artist Bansky, a classic prankster. Likewise, there’s the suspicion that Phoenix, aka J. P. to his friends, is not for real.

Indeed, this is brought up in the film after Joaquin has become his new persona—overweight, with long shaggy hair, and a long Jim Morrison-esque beard—that many already assumed was a joke. While Bansky keeps his audience guessing and doesn’t reveal if his film’s either for real or a joke, I’m not sure if I’m Still Here is fully aware about what it wants to be. Is Joaquin for real? People will still wonder after the film ends about where his head is at. (In photos from the premiere at the Venice Film Festival, Phoenix is now clean-shaven and not overweight, but still not acting.) My doubts stem from a few points: first off, Phoenix and his first-time director-cum-brother-in-law Casey Affleck are not known for being pranksters, a la Andy Kaufman or Sacha Baron Cohen or even Bansky. If it’s a joke, frankly, it seems like an insular one.

If it’s all for real, and I get the sneaking suspicion that it’s more real than fake, then it’s a rather sad look at Phoenix, who makes his sudden departure from acting after a play reading for charity. He tells a reporter from TV’s Extra that he has quit before telling his publicist, which doesn’t go over too well. He then starts his physical descent with the Jim Morrison look and records his very personal raps (his life’s ups and downs, not so much about the other tragedies in his family, like his brother River’s death in 1993). He may not be the worst rapper out there, though he’s certainly not good. When he approaches producer Sean Combs about a recording deal, it’s a little shaky at first. Combs, who looks like one of the few in on the joke (or one of the only ones really good at faking his reactions if it’s a joke), looks on with some disbelief, but he listens to Phoenix in an awkward scenes that comes off too painful, too spot-on, to be a put-on.

But what if it is? What’s the point? That Phoenix is cruelly mocking how celebrities view the descent into chaos? One of the film’s strengths is how Affleck sets up this Phoenix as egotistical but vulnerable, volatile but passionate, determined but kind of lost in a haze of marijuana and cocaine. As an emotional experience, I’m Still Here delivers the goods in fits and starts. However, I was distracted by trying to figure out if it was staged, or if, shocking as it might sound, it was all real. If it’s the latter, many other questions become raised, one that the “writers” don’t bother to answer.

There’s been next to no interviews with Affleck (certainly not Phoenix), and so speculation reigns. My job is to give my impression on the film. Frankly, I’m only sure that Phoenix is still here and that nobody comes out looking good by the end. It may be a cynical look at a public figure or a parody of a cynical look at a public figure. Either way, it’s disturbing, enlightening, frustrating, and not altogether un-enjoyable. But if I had to pick a joke-or-not-joke documentary this year, I’d still go with Banksy, a real master at trickery. Jack Gattanella
September 10, 2010