I don’t know about horror fandom as a whole, but I love film-centric documentaries. I’m not just talking retrospective featurettes and interview segments on home video release, although those are great too. I’m talking about feature-length documentaries focusing on a specific film, filmmaker franchise, subgenre, or time period in cinema. I especially love ones focused on an element within horror and/or exploitation cinema, making Diary of a Deadbeat an instant must-see.

The gung-ho nature of maverick, independent filmmaking lends itself to a never-ending parade of wild and interesting tales. Whether they involve unprecedented ascensions, catastrophic falls, or something in between, I find them utterly fascinating. There’s something to be said about humanity’s obsession with wallowing in the failure of others as equally as we do their successes, but that’s a subject for another day. All of this is to say that Victor Bonacore’s documentary on the rise, fall, and continued fight of cult filmmaker Jim Van Bebber, had me hooked from the moment it began.

For those who aren’t overly familiar with his body of work, Van Bebber is probably best known for crafting the likes of Deadbeat at Dawn and The Manson Family. The former is an unforgettable slice of violent crime/revenge exploitation. The latter? Well, the title basically speaks for itself.

(Note: If you’re wondering how to get your hands on both, Deadbeat at Dawn is unfortunately out-of-print and has fallen prey to the usual price-gouging on Amazon, eBay, etc. The Manson Family is thankfully available on Blu-ray and DVD.)

While Diary of a Deadbeat spends a large chunk of its time detailing the productions of Dawn, Manson, and Van Bebber’s various other shorts and music videos, the most interesting element is Jim himself. Documentaries of this type generally showcase, at most, two side of a person: the way they portray themselves publicly and the way others see them. Not so with Diary.

Contained within this spotlight on the man is no less than half a dozen facets of Jim Van Bebber. Throughout the course of its running time, we see all kinds of different incarnations of him. We see archival footage of young Jim in action, accompanied by retrospective interviews with those who worked with (or adjacent to) him. We are shown the larger-than-life convention guest star Jim. We are shown an angry and bitter modern Jim. And we are shown a more down-to-earth and still inspired Jim, who to this day is still fighting to get his next film (Gator Green) made.

The best part is that this film never favors any one aspect of the filmmaker. Both in terms of the past and the present, the spotlight bears down on artistic and passionate Jim Van Bebber just as much as it does antagonistic and under-the-influence Jim Van Bebber. Because the film never really takes a stance on the man one way or another, it deftly avoids both viewing him through rose-tinted glasses and being harshly critical about his faults. The viewer is left to decide how they feel about Jim

Passion is integral to filmmaking, as it is to film-watching. Whether you constantly engage with film from behind a camera, in front of it, or simply from the comfort of a theater or your own home, passion is important for all who love cinema. After sitting down with Diary of a Deadbeat, you might find yourself enthralled with Jim Van Bebber, his films, and his life story. Alternately, you might come out thinking he’s an obnoxious, antagonistic blowhard. I fall in line with the former, but I can certainly see some skewing towards the latter. No matter where you end up on that spectrum, there’s no arguing that few are still as passionate about movie-making as Jim Van Bebber is after over three decades.