1. American Movie
If Kevin Smith hadn't been such a good writer - had overextended himself, had tried to make an artsy horror film on no resources instead of a movie about guys chatting about Star Wars - he might've ended up as Mark Borchardt. Borchardt, an aspiring writer/director/actor/editor/sound man/everything else, has spent years working on a starkly photographed black and white horror short called Coven ("KO-ven" he corrects everyone on its pronunciation), citing George A. Romero as his cinematic idol. Borchardt has no budget; he has no real cast, no consistent crew (aside from a few buddies trying to overcome substance addiction), and very little support. His family mostly just shake their head and wonder when he's going to get a real job and move out on his own; his friends don't understand his obsession with making this movie, but they're loyal to a fault, and support him as best they can. Mark Borchardt is really running on nothing more than his own feverish desire to make a movie...and that in and of itself might not be enough to allow him to make a
good one... Anyone who's tried to make a horror or action movie on a budget that clearly doesn't support it will smile warmly at American Movie. Mark Borchardt is clearly "living aesthetically beyond his means" - you sort of want to tell him to just cool down and make a quiet little movie about friends bullshitting, instead of trying to do a massive horror epic with a budget the size of a peanut butter sandwich. (The fact that he can't pronounce his own film's title correctly doesn't help...) Any aspiring filmmaker will watch American Movie and maybe begin to sweat a little, nervously, seeing something of themselves in this goofy guy who doesn't realize that there's really no audience out there for a 16 mm horror short with bad sound. But
anyone who watches American Movie will also find it impossible to deny Borchardt's enthusiasm, or to get swept up in it. Mark and his buddies don't seem, from the brief glimpses we see of Coven, like the undiscovered great American filmmakers, but they're plucky and dedicated, and in the film's final stretches, as editing on Coven drags on and on, to the point where Mark is staying on the editing room floor in a sleeping bag, it's impossible not to root for him to get the picture done and show it to an audience. American Movie proves, above all else, that mediocre movie making still requires enormous patience, care and energy; and that sometimes, the journey to that mediocre result can be its own reward.