You’re behind on your child support, your phone’s being turned off, and you owe money to the IRS — what do you do? Make a movie! At least that’s what beleaguered Wisconsin filmmaker Mark Borchardt decided to do in the Sundance smash American Movie. Documentary director Chris Smith and producer Sarah Price followed Borchardt for two years as he struggled to complete a “35-minute direct-market thriller film” called Coven, with $3,000 borrowed from his semi-senile uncle and the loyal support of his unflappably affable guitar-playing best friend, Mike Schank.

The result is a poignant and often hilarious character study of a charismatic all-American underdog, who makes up in drive and vision what he lacks in talent. Interviews with Borchardt’s skeptical family and friends are combined with scenes of sparsely attended production meetings, no-budget film shoots (the scene in which Borchardt tries to shove an actor through a “breakaway” cabinet door is already a classic), and camp-outs in the editing room with the kids.

Guaranteed to touch a nerve in anyone who has ever aspired to make films, American Movie is an offbeat, sometimes sad, but ultimately inspirational tribute to pursuing one’s dreams. (Barnes & Noble)

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Struggling filmmaker Mark Borchardt is the subject of American Movie, and he may also be the most determined man you’ll ever meet. The straggly haired, fast-talking, Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin, native lists his greatest influences as Dawn of the Dead, Night of the Living Dead, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

He began making horror movies as a gangly adolescent, and is now set on finishing Coven (which he pronounces like “woven”), the “35-minute direct market thriller” he has worked on for two years. In the process, he steadfastly battles immense debt, the threat of losing his kids, and birds chirping gleefully through scenes set in the dead of winter.

His mother would rather do her shopping than be an extra, his brother contends he’s best suited for factory work, and his father just wants him to “watch the language.” Standing by him through it all is Mark’s childhood buddy, Mike Schank, who is the strongest weapon against drug use a task force could ever hope for, and Uncle Bill, begrudging financier of Coven, who appears to be wasting away before our very eyes.

In less perceptive hands these two could easily become caricatures–the burnt-out stoner and the crotchety old coot–but through director Chris Smith’s lens we see why Mark loves them, why they love Mark, and why each of these stories is uniquely compelling. (Amazon)