The Devil and Daniel Johnston
Last night my boyfriend and I watched The Devil and Daniel Johnston, a documentary movie about a manic depressive artist with psychotic delusions, unable to function as an independent adult, but wildly popular among a somewhat cult following of fans, who appreciate the raw, uncommercial honesty of his songs, which he taped himself with a tape recorder and guitar and electric organ in his basement over many years.
The movie was the most real and honest portrayal of someone with a mental illness I have yet seen — and also the effects of mental illness on family and loved ones – and I felt like I could identify with a lot of the bizarre thoughts and behaviors Johnston expressed throughout his life, on and off meds, having had similar bizarre delusions at the worst of my own illness. I could also be thankful that I haven’t gotten into as much trouble for bizarre and dangerous behaviors related to my illness as he did. My heart broke for his parents, who up to this day take care of him, and who are good, kind Christian folks, who it seems have come to allow and accept Daniel as he is, although they’ve always tried to “straighten him up” and, as is to be expected, didn’t start out raising Daniel with an understanding of how to cope with a child with a mental illness. It was inspiring to see people find value in the essential human emotions Daniel expressed in his very primitive art, drawing and music, and find a connection there. Daniel has spent his life, although repeatedly put in and out of mental institutions, and although living with his parents for most of his adult life, making art, playing in bands, and touring to great acclaim with music and art shows around the world.
The message I found was that there is value in the unique perspective a person with a mental illness may bring to the world — that people can relate to our essential human suffering, fears, anxieties, and emotions — and that through creative expression the difficulties of living with a mental illness can be transcended. Kudos to the makers of this film for a refreshing and inspiring take on what should always be the heart essence of art — to help us transcend, connect, and share the common sufferings of being human and having to negotiate a difficult world, to raise us out of ourselves for a moment so we can feel a connection with the common trials of all of humanity. A film worth seeing, for sufferers of mental illness and their families alike.
I heard about this movie just before it was released, and saw Daniel during his brief tour in support of its nationwide screening. He doesn’t perform much anymore, but I was highly impressed by his musicianship and creativity. While his technique is rough, the guy is a natural artist with his own very distinctive and even plaintive style.
Back in the ’80s, when he developed his name, there was a lot of controversy surrounding his stature in the indie music underground that supported him, similar to the issues surrounding Wesley Willis in the ’90s. People wondered if maybe someone’s illness was being exploited as a novel frill. Of course, this is a very old discussion within the artist’s caste, going back to the days of Surrealism and Art Brut. One thing about Daniel is that illness or not, he knows how to play the indie rock game and has real talent, so people accept him as an artist nowadays.
Punk and other music subcultures like Goth or raver have always been places where people with mental illnesses could find acceptance amongst fellow “freaks.” Their behavior and problems might not always be understood, but it would be tolerated and accepted. It is a shame that there are not more niches like these in society, but as long as people are forced to conform to narrow, soul-crushing limitations on behavior and lifestyle in their careers and within their families, this will unfortunately be the case for a long time.
I found that movie difficult to watch.