I've followed Ashly Burch for a long time, ever since she got her start in 'Hey Ash, whatcha playin'?' In all that time, even though it wasn't outwardly remarked upon at any time, it was hard to miss the moment that actor and musician David Fetzer - one-time partner and a co-star in underappreciated indie drama 'Must come down' - died of an opioid overdose. For those with any measure of interest we were able to learn more about Fetzer's life, and the tragic circumstances of his addiction and death, but as the man hadn't yet achieved significant renown any such information was minimal. Enter Betsy L. Ross, Fetzer's mother, who in seeking perspective and closure went about making this documentary. Ross readily notes that she's not a filmmaker, and strictly speaking we do see this in the unpolished edges of these seventy-seven minutes (noted primarily, but not exclusively, in the glaring lighting and the bare-faced image quality). That lack of polish also doesn't truly matter, however, as 'Looking for David' is an earnest expression from the heart, a search for answers that are too multifaceted to easily pin down. Unless one has some specific impetus for watching this is perhaps not something one needs to go out of their way to see, but between the memorializing glimpse at Fetzer's life and work, and the heartfelt sincerity of the project, it's well deserving on its own merits if you do have the opportunity to watch.
At points it seems like Ross, the grieving mother, has the most profound perspective to offer, not least as - noted in the very premise - she was apparently the one to find Fetzer after he died. That sense is perhaps bolstered as she quotes from select literature to help express herself, and speaks in her own carefully penned language as she gathers her thoughts. Yet that's hardly to diminish the words that anyone else has to offer; from family and friends, to fellow musicians, actors, and producers, we hear from many people whose lives Fetzer had touched. In that we learn of the kind demeanor he possessed, and the love he had to give, the versatility of his skills as an artist, and certainly what a terrible loss it is that we, as spectators, will never get to see or hear what he might have given us had he lived longer. From his youth to his adult life Ross ensures that see get as complete an image as we can of who Fetzer was without us being able to personally know him; not unlike 2019's 'Love, Antosha,' a tribute to Anton Yelchin, by the time we're done watching it really does feel like we know the subject, and the result is equally heartbreaking and heartwarming as we discern how unfortunate it is that we'll never know him even better.
'Looking for David' is arguably a tad unfocused as discussion ping-pongs a little between these personal touches and the reflections on Fetzer's addiction, and all the surrounding issues. To the extent this is true, though, it's only an echo of Ross' inexperience as a filmmaker - and again, it doesn't matter, because the meaning substance of the material is foremost, and after all, these aspects do blend together. Through the lens of Fetzer's inner demons and physiological battle, and retrospective offered by those around him, we're offered intimate, deeply personalized illumination of and rumination on prescription drugs, pain management, what we put our bodies through on a daily basis without really thinking about it, the invisible disease that is addiction, the social stigma and debilitating mental anguish, laws and social mores that concern painkillers and addiction, and more. We're given a much more complete and in-depth narrative of Fetzer's addiction, culminating in his death, which is both part and parcel and just as important as the broader notions that are brought up along the way. This, I think, is the real triumph for Ross as a documentarian: the split in the runtime is between cataloguing Fetzer as a person and bringing his addiction to light, and NOT, as has been the case elsewhere, between the determined, purposeful, and personal and the dry, academic, and legal. It would have been easy to digress into assessment of studies, statistics, and laws. Ross, however, keeps the proceedings centered on Fetzer one way or another, with all the additional elements rising and receding naturally as discussion progresses, and that's a subtle but significant accomplishment that the amateur filmmaker should be very proud of.
For whatever inelegance we may observe in the presentation, the unrefined edges are far outweighed by the welcome candor, unrestrained emotions, and open dialogue both celebrating Fetzer and mourning him, and obliquely but organically speaking to those matters of wider import. The sum total is gratifyingly well-rounded, well made, and above all highly impactful, striking chords that I did not expect when I first sat to watch. Especially given the topics on hand I can understand that this won't appeal to anyone, and truth be told content warnings are necessary for reference to drugs, addiction, depression, and death. Yet whether one has some particular attachment to those involved or investment in the topics, or is just looking for something of real weight and reach, the fact is that this exceeds the limited scope of its length, and of the immediate core of a late musician and actor who is all too little known, to hit hard and smart. Those minor critiques are ultimately pretty negligible, for this is far better and more worthwhile than I guessed when I first came across it. Don't necessarily go out of your way for it, but if you do have the chance to watch 'Looking for David,' there is much more value here than first meets the eye from the outside looking in.
At points it seems like Ross, the grieving mother, has the most profound perspective to offer, not least as - noted in the very premise - she was apparently the one to find Fetzer after he died. That sense is perhaps bolstered as she quotes from select literature to help express herself, and speaks in her own carefully penned language as she gathers her thoughts. Yet that's hardly to diminish the words that anyone else has to offer; from family and friends, to fellow musicians, actors, and producers, we hear from many people whose lives Fetzer had touched. In that we learn of the kind demeanor he possessed, and the love he had to give, the versatility of his skills as an artist, and certainly what a terrible loss it is that we, as spectators, will never get to see or hear what he might have given us had he lived longer. From his youth to his adult life Ross ensures that see get as complete an image as we can of who Fetzer was without us being able to personally know him; not unlike 2019's 'Love, Antosha,' a tribute to Anton Yelchin, by the time we're done watching it really does feel like we know the subject, and the result is equally heartbreaking and heartwarming as we discern how unfortunate it is that we'll never know him even better.
'Looking for David' is arguably a tad unfocused as discussion ping-pongs a little between these personal touches and the reflections on Fetzer's addiction, and all the surrounding issues. To the extent this is true, though, it's only an echo of Ross' inexperience as a filmmaker - and again, it doesn't matter, because the meaning substance of the material is foremost, and after all, these aspects do blend together. Through the lens of Fetzer's inner demons and physiological battle, and retrospective offered by those around him, we're offered intimate, deeply personalized illumination of and rumination on prescription drugs, pain management, what we put our bodies through on a daily basis without really thinking about it, the invisible disease that is addiction, the social stigma and debilitating mental anguish, laws and social mores that concern painkillers and addiction, and more. We're given a much more complete and in-depth narrative of Fetzer's addiction, culminating in his death, which is both part and parcel and just as important as the broader notions that are brought up along the way. This, I think, is the real triumph for Ross as a documentarian: the split in the runtime is between cataloguing Fetzer as a person and bringing his addiction to light, and NOT, as has been the case elsewhere, between the determined, purposeful, and personal and the dry, academic, and legal. It would have been easy to digress into assessment of studies, statistics, and laws. Ross, however, keeps the proceedings centered on Fetzer one way or another, with all the additional elements rising and receding naturally as discussion progresses, and that's a subtle but significant accomplishment that the amateur filmmaker should be very proud of.
For whatever inelegance we may observe in the presentation, the unrefined edges are far outweighed by the welcome candor, unrestrained emotions, and open dialogue both celebrating Fetzer and mourning him, and obliquely but organically speaking to those matters of wider import. The sum total is gratifyingly well-rounded, well made, and above all highly impactful, striking chords that I did not expect when I first sat to watch. Especially given the topics on hand I can understand that this won't appeal to anyone, and truth be told content warnings are necessary for reference to drugs, addiction, depression, and death. Yet whether one has some particular attachment to those involved or investment in the topics, or is just looking for something of real weight and reach, the fact is that this exceeds the limited scope of its length, and of the immediate core of a late musician and actor who is all too little known, to hit hard and smart. Those minor critiques are ultimately pretty negligible, for this is far better and more worthwhile than I guessed when I first came across it. Don't necessarily go out of your way for it, but if you do have the chance to watch 'Looking for David,' there is much more value here than first meets the eye from the outside looking in.