You may have to already be invested in Dan Harmon before approaching his documentary Harmontown. I discovered his NBC show Community during the season 3 hiatus and fell head over heels for it watching it about 3 times in a row. Since then I've been in for the ride, if sporadically during seasons 4 and 5. If you're not in the know, Dan Harmon created Community in 2009, a satirical and zany sitcom, and was the showrunner through seasons 1 to 3. He was fired for season 4 while being replaced by the showrunners of Happy Endings, which resulted in a mediocre season, reviled by many fans. It was a messy departure, particularly with spats between Harmon and star Chevy Chase who subsequently left the show.
In the meanwhile as a form of productive therapy, Harmon created a weekly live show called Harmontown, recorded as a podcast with his friend Jeff B. Davis, a familiar face from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Part standup, part improv (they never prepare, relying on refreshing spontaneity), part chat show, they begin every podcast with saying that they don't know what it is. They don't want any form of structure and each show is unique to its audience. The result is often a reflection upon his own style; gooey, yet raw, juvenile, yet meaningful. He also helped kickstart a new Charlie Kaufman stop motion film Anomalisa, of which I contributed to and am still waiting for. Even though I haven't listened to Harmontown just yet, I'm certainly invested in Harmon's endeavours. Fortunately he was rehired to run Community for season 5 and will do for season 6, though they're moving from NBC to Yahoo.
Just like with the podcast, the documentary begins by saying that it doesn't know what it wants to be. Harmon and director Neil Berkeley chase the story as it comes. If anything, it wants to make you smile. Harmon says this repeatedly, he wants to make people happy and wants to be the reason that people are entertained. Even so, he is not a happy man. Disheartened by having to be torn apart from his passion project (the documentary is set before his return, 3 weeks in 2012 during a rare U.S. tour) and under pressure from networks to write various pilots. As envious and admirable he is, I am glad I'm not him. Subsequently his Harmontown shows are centred around his creative self-deprecation, albeit while surrounded by adoring fans, or nerds as he puts it. That's what Community is and that's what Harmontown is – a gathering of nerds and outcasts opening up where they feel accepted and loved. It's truly cathartic for everyone involved. Not just a therapy for Harmon, but for the audience too and it rubs off.
Between traditional documenting techniques, the film can't resist 'meta' moments as Community frequently indulges in. It doesn't try to hide the moments that are staged for the camera and they usually leave the outtakes in because they're much more charming. It's more honest to just be honest about the fake parts and that's exactly what Harmon's work tries to point out. There's also lots of candid moments where you can see the crew or the cameraman is getting himself ready during the shot, but it doesn't matter. The documentary does reflect back on Harmon's pre-Community career and has interviews with familiar faces, though they're fleeting. This very loose and aimless style does initially lead to a clumsy feeling doc with an indulgent topic that's difficult to see justified. But it does win you over. It's all about the atmosphere of an affectionate unit trying to figure it all out while giving something back.
This is best demonstrated by the addition of Spencer Crittenden, a one-time audience member and now frequent contributor and close friend to Dan Harmon. It's a rags-to-the- coat-tails-of-semi-fame story, but a very endearing one, and he's now a fan favourite. Reportedly, there's a cut of the film that's entirely about Spencer. He's a 23 year-old Dungeons and Dragons master with a bone-dry sense of humour. He always gets cheers from the crowd whenever he's brought to the stage and he's a joy to watch being brought into this world so lovingly. Also on the journey is Harmon's girlfriend Erin McGathy, who although a wonderful and cheery person, their relationship suffers under close quarters. The tension in their relationship is explored in an emotionally draining portion of the film, hitting us in the guts right after some of the most uplifting moments.
The documentary eventually and organically finds its way, even though there's inherently not much at stake. As with most stories, it's about the journey and not the destination. It's an honest representation of a man whose achievements and narcissism are in constant flux with his self-loathing and consequences of his selfishness. Fortunately, the comedy of the Harmontown shows shine through too and it has a delightful irreverence to the humour. Even so, it never shies away from a lot of deep and raw aspects of the human condition and that's what makes it so rewarding. The content does outshine the filmmaking quality here, though it's still quite good. Ultimately, it left me with the same warm fuzzy feelings I get in my belly as when I watch the highs of Community as you watch people here truly connect with each other. Harmon seems to be infectious. A rich, referential and simple storyteller that's never quite finished nor wants to be. Both sweet and sour, Harmontown is the feel good documentary of the year.
8/10
In the meanwhile as a form of productive therapy, Harmon created a weekly live show called Harmontown, recorded as a podcast with his friend Jeff B. Davis, a familiar face from Whose Line Is It Anyway. Part standup, part improv (they never prepare, relying on refreshing spontaneity), part chat show, they begin every podcast with saying that they don't know what it is. They don't want any form of structure and each show is unique to its audience. The result is often a reflection upon his own style; gooey, yet raw, juvenile, yet meaningful. He also helped kickstart a new Charlie Kaufman stop motion film Anomalisa, of which I contributed to and am still waiting for. Even though I haven't listened to Harmontown just yet, I'm certainly invested in Harmon's endeavours. Fortunately he was rehired to run Community for season 5 and will do for season 6, though they're moving from NBC to Yahoo.
Just like with the podcast, the documentary begins by saying that it doesn't know what it wants to be. Harmon and director Neil Berkeley chase the story as it comes. If anything, it wants to make you smile. Harmon says this repeatedly, he wants to make people happy and wants to be the reason that people are entertained. Even so, he is not a happy man. Disheartened by having to be torn apart from his passion project (the documentary is set before his return, 3 weeks in 2012 during a rare U.S. tour) and under pressure from networks to write various pilots. As envious and admirable he is, I am glad I'm not him. Subsequently his Harmontown shows are centred around his creative self-deprecation, albeit while surrounded by adoring fans, or nerds as he puts it. That's what Community is and that's what Harmontown is – a gathering of nerds and outcasts opening up where they feel accepted and loved. It's truly cathartic for everyone involved. Not just a therapy for Harmon, but for the audience too and it rubs off.
Between traditional documenting techniques, the film can't resist 'meta' moments as Community frequently indulges in. It doesn't try to hide the moments that are staged for the camera and they usually leave the outtakes in because they're much more charming. It's more honest to just be honest about the fake parts and that's exactly what Harmon's work tries to point out. There's also lots of candid moments where you can see the crew or the cameraman is getting himself ready during the shot, but it doesn't matter. The documentary does reflect back on Harmon's pre-Community career and has interviews with familiar faces, though they're fleeting. This very loose and aimless style does initially lead to a clumsy feeling doc with an indulgent topic that's difficult to see justified. But it does win you over. It's all about the atmosphere of an affectionate unit trying to figure it all out while giving something back.
This is best demonstrated by the addition of Spencer Crittenden, a one-time audience member and now frequent contributor and close friend to Dan Harmon. It's a rags-to-the- coat-tails-of-semi-fame story, but a very endearing one, and he's now a fan favourite. Reportedly, there's a cut of the film that's entirely about Spencer. He's a 23 year-old Dungeons and Dragons master with a bone-dry sense of humour. He always gets cheers from the crowd whenever he's brought to the stage and he's a joy to watch being brought into this world so lovingly. Also on the journey is Harmon's girlfriend Erin McGathy, who although a wonderful and cheery person, their relationship suffers under close quarters. The tension in their relationship is explored in an emotionally draining portion of the film, hitting us in the guts right after some of the most uplifting moments.
The documentary eventually and organically finds its way, even though there's inherently not much at stake. As with most stories, it's about the journey and not the destination. It's an honest representation of a man whose achievements and narcissism are in constant flux with his self-loathing and consequences of his selfishness. Fortunately, the comedy of the Harmontown shows shine through too and it has a delightful irreverence to the humour. Even so, it never shies away from a lot of deep and raw aspects of the human condition and that's what makes it so rewarding. The content does outshine the filmmaking quality here, though it's still quite good. Ultimately, it left me with the same warm fuzzy feelings I get in my belly as when I watch the highs of Community as you watch people here truly connect with each other. Harmon seems to be infectious. A rich, referential and simple storyteller that's never quite finished nor wants to be. Both sweet and sour, Harmontown is the feel good documentary of the year.
8/10
