Warwick Broadhead revists a life less ordinary for the camera. By JACOB POWELL.

Rubbings From a Live Man, a dramatised documentary from filmmaker/arist Florian Habicht, fuses straight-forward interview footage with filmed, theatre style ‘reenactments’ and dramatic monologues to tell something akin to the life story of its subject: prolific thespian and creative tour de force, Warwick Broadhead.

We begin with Broadhead relating a watershed moment from his childhood which involved performing for the family and his realisation that this could be a way of procuring attention, laughs, and love (of sorts) from the people in his life. The subject then talks about his first Mass experience and of growing up Catholic; the latter, a theme that echoes strongly throughout the film. Whilst the story is narrated this aspect/time of his life is being dramatised, with Broadhead in a garish costume suspended in the air on a platform by a small crane assuming the figure of the priest – or perhaps God – as a local rugby team comes by to be ‘baptised’ by him before going off to play their game covered in white ‘baptismal’ powder. Other dramatisations (almost pantomime in style) canvas Broadhead’s joining with the Angels of Light theatre troupe in San Francisco in his twenties (through a kind of kitsch, dreamlike orgy), as well as more references to his ingrained Catholic upbringing via a recurring monologue in which Broadhead plays a narcissistic God who imposes trouble and punishment on Warwick like some kind of spoilt, omnipotent child. The actor also speculates on perceptions others have of him by performing as a number of his own friends, whom he recreates to ‘have them’ discuss their friend Warwick.

Rubbings, being Habicht’s telling of Broadhead’s memories of events and impressions, makes it difficult to divide the line between drama and reality. As Warrick pointed out several times in a post screening Q&A, memory is very individual, and an imperfect. Implicit was that there is some measure of ‘story-telling’ going on in his story-telling. Habicht and his cameraman, Chris Pryor, seem to underscore this blurred division through their composition. The various dramatisations include footage of the setup and rehearsal for these pieces, and the occasional shots of equipment and crew during them, which gives the effect of undermining the veracity of the stories themselves. Another clear skewing of reality/perception is in a scene with Warwick costumed and seated on a beach with heavy waves breaking on the rocks (from Piha?) in the background. In the latter part of this scene we see Warrick actually seated on a rug in a room in front of a green-screen with the images of the waves playing on it. The wave footage looked genuine to me and I wonder whether they didn’t shoot parts of the scene actually at the beach and parts using the green-screen? Whatever the case, the question of what’s real and what’s not continues to be presented.

What is clear is that Warwick Broadhead has lived a rich life with a story worth telling. In Rubbings he opens himself up publicly in a way few people are willing to and shares his stories, his fears, his longings and his regrets. Habicht’s handling of the material seems both respectful though slightly mercenary; clearly he has developed a great interest in and for his subject but he also – by his own admission – pushes Broadhead further than either of them, upon reflection, is completely comfortable with. Scenes where Broadhead relives painful memories – his mother’s death, his own heart problems, and an experience of committed love that came then went – see the camera lingering past the point of comfort and even after the subject has asked for them to stop. Though, in these moments, it is still difficult to determine if there isn’t something of the dramatic coming from Broadhead even as he expresses his pain.

Director and subject make a good pair and their “marriage” on this project has produced a colourful and unique take on the documentary genre. The two (at the post screening Q&A) discussed how the experience has left them both changed: Broadhead for the better, having experienced something of a confessional purge; Habicht reassessing what he is actually willing to put people through for the sake of a film or a piece of art.