Surely this is the most moving piece of film about not just a musician but also a portrait of someone who suffers, copes and lives with depression. Cut together with home movies, family photos, concert footage and interviews old and new it tells the extraordinary life of this very talented but tortured artist. There has always been a link between madness and creativity; artists are slightly different, outsiders, free thinkers, they must be a bit mad to make the work they do. But the story of Daniel is one of actual mania, real madness, deep depression and an immense body of work from, films to music to paintings and sketches. It tells it like it is, it shows him at all times falling apart, going in and out of mental hospitals and still working prolifically. The interviews with his parents are very moving as they at times are reduced to tears and lost for words. Seeing Daniel now how he is as apposed to how he was is also a lump in the throat moment. He sits hunched over his piano, staring into space, banging out song after song and smoking cigarette after cigarette it is heartbreakingly fascinating. But putting his mental health to one side for the moment lets focus on the work, Daniel has amassed literally thousands of tapes full of songs and spoken word, he used to make so many films and has an equally large collection of drawings and art. This amount of work is what makes this documentary so good. You can tell the whole story when it has been so well documented like this from the very beginning right up to the present day every part of Daniels journey is either on tape or film whether it was documented by himself or the likes of MTV. So this portrayal is fascinating, heart-warming and sad but it shows the real genius behind Daniels music that has not only sold records on its own merit but has been covered by over 150 of the worlds top recording artists. If you don't know about Daniel Johnston isn't it about time you found out?

For a crazy person, Daniel Johnston – a manic-depressive from West Virginia in his forties now an obese chain-smoker on heavy meds and in the care of his parents, has had a wonderful life and a very creative one as an artist, songwriter and performer who's become a cult figure admired and performed by the likes of Tom Waits, Sonic Youth, and Kurt Cobain. Jeff Feuerzeig, whose title refers to Daniel's constant mental battles with Satan, has provided a rich and sympathetic external portrait; and Johnson's own endless cassette tapes, songs, and drawings (which, used as important sources, can't help bringing to mind such influential recent documentaries as Andrew Jareaki's Capturing the Friedmans and Jonathan Caouette's Tarnation),provide as good a picture of what's going on inside Johnston's head as we're going to get.

Johnston has been celebrated by a long string of artists and become a cult figure to his fans for his purity, innocence, honesty, and raw pain. Like Caouette, he was unappreciated by his parents and particularly his mother, who thought he spent too much time writing songs and drawing pictures when he was young, and called him a "lazy bum" for not doing his chores around the house. His compulsive creativity was never really appreciated by his fundamentalist Christian family, though since thousands of admirers have applauded him at concerts, surely they begin to appreciate it now.

The many films and tapes of him show Daniel was a charming if unstable young man, buoyant, full of fun, uncooperative, laughing – in a teenage film he plays both himself and his abusive mom – and beginning to compose the songs that others have said sum up the Beatles, Bob Dylan, and other pop greats, though his voice is tuneless and whiny and his piano playing jangly and when he switched to guitar, that was worse. His parents took him out of college because he wasn't doing well, and put him to work. He didn't like that, so they farmed him out to siblings. Luck brought him to Austin in the early Eighties where he worked in a Macdonald's for a surprising length of time considering that he wasn't good at any of the jobs there (he cleared tables) and he was discovered by music writers, an editor, and a man who became his manager and almost his slave (Jeff Tartakov, the manager he fired, who still devotes his life to distributing copies of his tapes).

Johnston had repeated bouts in mental institutions and became increasingly delusional. A period of heavy LSD use clearly led to one of his worst crises: and yet he can recount all this himself, and his mind seems astonishingly lucid. (This is one of the saddest things about madness: that the mad know they're mad, but can do nothing about it.) For all his crises, the Austin public embraced Johnston and he got top awards for folk singing and song writing – an event that sat ill with some professional musicians at the time, but satisfied the lust for fame that motivated Johnston, who'd been on MTV, and knew how to grab the spotlight better than he knew how to play his guitar.

I can't see the virtue of Johnston's music and drawings, or rather I can, but I disagree with those in the film who insist he's not an outsider artist. He fits that category well; he's just come along at a time when plaintive whining, alienation, and musical primitivism are the rage, and he was taken up by some admirable champions. However, when he finally got a recording contract – drawn up initially when he was in a mental institution – his first album issued by Atlantic Records sold only a few thousand copies and he was dropped in two years, showing that despite stars' covers of his songs, he himself has no mainstream appeal, or ability to work in a professional format either as a musician or a visual artist. Nonetheless Johnston's open nature, his clarity, his sense of the redeeming artistic value of love, and his ceaseless artistic productivity are unmistakable and justify the attention that has been lavished upon him. This doesn't stop his story from being ultimately a sad one. For all his parents' caring in latter years, for all his championing by editors and managers, he cannot function on his own. Since his meds stifle his creativity, he has tended to give them up for two weeks before a public performance, and after one of the biggest ones, when his dad was flying the two of them home in his little plane, he overpowered him and took the controls and they crashed into some trees, barely surviving. Well, I guess all artists are a bit reckless, but it's just a matter of degree.

Making full use of films, tapes, and recent interviews, Jeff Feuerzeig has produced a wonderful film that is as good a document of a man as modern techniques allow. And the enduring popular notions of artistic life as train wreck and artistic genius as mental derangement remain unchallenged.

(Feted at fests in mid to late 2005, The Devil and Daniel Johnston went into limited US release March 31, 2006.)

The first section of the film has to do with the early life of Daniel Johnston as well as his being discovered by the musical world in the 1980s. Most of this didn't interest me at all--especially because I hated his music. When the film tried to convince me of his genius, it completely lost me, as he sounded just awful and hurt my ears (though I do acknowledge that he does have a small cult following who see him as a great genius). He definitely is not nor ever has been "mainstream" and this section of the film was poor compared to the last 3/4 of the film. It just didn't do much to compel the average viewer.

However, when it talked about his descent into madness, then the film came to life and became much more compelling. This section of the film was much longer and seemed to be the most important point of this documentary. The impact on Daniel, his family and those around him was profound and very sad to watch.

Because of my background, I have additional insight into the psychiatric state of Daniel Johnston during the film. As I watched, I noticed that although the film mentions that Daniel had "Manic-Depressive Disorder" (i.e., Bipolar Disorder),there was compelling evidence that a more correct diagnosis might have been a Schizoaffective Disorder. In essence, this is Bipolar Disorder along with Schizophrenia, as Daniel's behaviors and thinking always have a bizarreness that isn't classic "mania"--where you'd typically see bizarreness mostly during manic stages. He was so disorganized, occasionally hostile and had such bizarre thinking that this seems like the correct diagnosis instead of Bipolar Disorder. His talking about demons and obsession with his own self-styled religion is just plain weird. Additionally, the hospital prescribing Haldol is indicative of a more severe thought disorder. Normally, with a Bipolar Disorder, they would prescribe antidepressants or Lithium--not a severe mind-altering drug like Haldol. Haldol is practically an elephant tranquilizer and patients on it often are somewhat zombie-like--and it's often given to violent and severely psychotic patients in emergency rooms.

Late in the film, there was an emphasis on Daniel's artwork--not just his music. Despite many declaring it to be great, I found it fascinating because it gave great insight into Daniel's twisted vision of the world--with drawings of devils, monsters and a man whose head is cut in half (a representation of himself). Did I think it was "great"? No--far from it, but the insight it gave was incredible. And, at times, the claims others made about his greatness seemed a bit like hyperbole (saying he was the equal to Brian Wilson for example).

A fascinating film that was well-constructed--using audio tapes, video, interviews and a few scenes of Daniel today. Well made and worth a look.