One day -- maybe in a decade, maybe in a hundred years from now -- someone is going to make the Uwe Boll biopic ... and it will be glorious.
Think of the character arc: German independent filmmaker struggles through hardships and dreams of making movies before stumbling into a career making abysmal low-budget films via a German tax loophole which somehow turns into a pseudo-Hollywood career, adapting video games into slightly more expensive disasters, raising fanboy ire to an unprecedented level and becoming the most hated filmmaker on the internet. And that's before he literally takes on some of his critics in a boxing ring. Oh, and he's a doctor.
His films may be terrible, but Uwe Boll may be one of the most fascinating figures working in film today; a man who's embraced his image as a madman director who funds his films with long-lost Nazi gold. That's why 'Raging Boll,' a documentary about his life and career, should make for incredible viewing at this year's Austin Film Festival. Watch the trailer after the jump.
Here are questions that documentarian Dan Lee West hopefully asked Mr. Boll while the camera was running:
"Why is the opening text crawl for 'Alone in the Dark' about five minutes long?"
"Did you realize while you were filming it that the sex scene in the jail cell in 'Bloodrayne' may be the worst sex scene in cinematic history?"
"When was the decision made to cast Burt Reynolds as a medieval king and Ray Liotta as an evil wizard in 'In the Name of the King'? Because, um, wow."
"With 'Postal,' how did you manage to make something so ridiculously crass and offensive, but also so boring and lifeless?"
Making fun of Boll is easy. His films make it easy. Unlike the films of Ed Wood, whose work is extraordinarily terrible but somehow honest and inoffensive, Boll's films are ugly and hateful. However, there is something to admire about the man, about how he's kept on working in the face of the waves of disgust coming at him from all angles. There's something truly likable about a man who keeps making movies not only because he loves doing it, but because he wants to spite every single person who's ever said a bad thing about him.
It's an absurd tenacity, and by embracing his persona as the "worst director in the world," he's managed to build an image that will forever be tarnished, but will never, ever, ever die. The hatred has made him immortal.
And now he's the subject of a documentary about his life and work. Martin Scorsese doesn't have a documentary about his life and work. Good job, internets.