The other approach is more straightforward: Weide and Argott are making a straightforward PBS-style documentary about an artist's life, supervised by a director and fan who knew him intimately, and tghat draws on footage ranging from childhood through old age. The latter might jump around in time in terms of the years in which it was created, but it ultimately tells Vonnegut's story in a far more conventional way that the movie promises to do in its opening minutes.

This is fine; in fact it's more than fine, because as Vonnegut and various experts on his work point out, Vonnegut remains readable and relevant in large part because he expressed himself in a direct way, drawing upon what's described here as a journalistic writing style. Correspondingly, the most moving scenes and moments in "Unstuck in Time" are unmannered accounts of events. These range in emotional character from elating (Vonnegut's commercial and critical success with "Slaughterhouse Five" after years of financial struggle) to vexing (after that success, he left his first wife, Jane, who'd been by his side during the lean years, moved to Manhattan, and married his mistress) to tragic (Vonnegut's brother-in-law dying in a train wreck just two days before Vonnegut's older sister died of cancer) to inspirational (Vonnegut unhesitatingly raising his late sister's four sons alongside the three kids he had with Jane).

All of this material is fascinating, and articulated in vivid detail thanks to Weide's trove of material. There are closeups of typewritten revisions of Vonnegut classics, each alteration indicated in pencil or pen, and letters and answering machine messages covering every imaginable life event. The filmmakers lay it all out so elegantly that whenever the movie seems to forget that it's also about Weide and suddenly interrupts the flow to insert a reference to one of Weide's own milestone events (such as his wife's own battle with a debilitating illness and his Emmy win for "Curb," which seems to be in there so that he can include Vonnegut's answering machine message congratulating him) it's awkward because Weide is clearly still grieving, too, and the viewer is torn between wanting to bear witness to Weide's miseries and triumphs and wanting him to get back to Kurt Vonnegut as quickly as possible.

There is, nevertheless, something to be said for a documentary that tries to do something different and perhaps impossible, even if it doesn't quite get there. And in the end, any flaws or missed opportunities are subsumed by the movie's sincerity and wealth of insight. Its analysis of the role that Vonnegut's World War II experience played in his demeanor as well as his fiction is fascinating and on-point, and the editors bring it all back at the end when Vonnegut, outraged by the second Bush administration's invasion of Iraq and weaponizing of patriotism, writes a series of columns for "In These Times" magazine that will ultimately be collected in 2005's "A Man Without a Country," arguably his last major work.

Weide himself comes across as a sardonic and compassionate witness and guide, often taking the piss out of his own reverence for Vonnegut just when things threaten to get a bit moist. The devotion he displays towards Vonnegut throughout the second half of the writer's life is as inspiring as Vonnegut's own high points as a human being. We should all be lucky enough to have a friend who will tell our story.

Now playing in select theaters and available on digital platforms.

ncG1vNJzZmivp6x7s7vGnqmempWnwW%2BvzqZmq52mnrK4v46krKusXau8r7rEoKytZaWjwLXBwqRkoqZdqbausYympq%2BhlWK%2FpsLInq5mamBnfg%3D%3D