The film about disappeared 70s Mexican-American folk rocker Rodriguez was supposed to just show on Swedish TV, but the same night that it opened the Sundance Fest, SPC scooped it up. The doc won both audience and special jury prizes. Bendjelloul discovered that Rodriguez was a huge star in South Africa, as big as Dylan or Hendrix; he was the South African Elvis. Somehow his soft ballads had hit the anti-Apartheid zeitgeist; he was the spokesman for a generation, a household name, who sold countless records. But no one had seen the man in three decades; his Sussex record label had gone bankrupt 35 years ago. So Bendjelloul went in search of him. The movie reveals what he found, and is unaccountably moving.
Layton first read about "The Chameleon" in a Spanish magazine, followed by The New Yorker and The Guardian. They weren't just telling the Texas story; it was about how a lonely orphan turned into such a con artist that he was tracked by Interpol. (Their files inform the movie.) "What kind of human being could perpetuate a con like that and how did the family fall victim to it?" said Layton at SXSW. "We went on a slightly bewildering journey."
The key to the way the filmmakers structured the film was to recognize that "truth is elusive," said Layton. "That was the confusing journey we went on. You interview members of the cast, think you understand what happened, and come away the next day with a diametrically opposed conclusion. So the audience goes on the same journey. We all believe what we want to believe. We're not trying to find one definitive answer. It's about our subjective versions of the truth."
Even a gullible FBI agent went along for the ride. But not Charlie Parker, the film's unlikely hero, a stubborn local private dick who figures out pretty quick that the imposter is not who he says he is. Parker played well to the SXSW crowd; he took his bows to rousing applause after seeing the film for the first time.
Even while the Texas family look pretty foolish, they went along with the movie and its elaborate reenactments, made possible by masses of archive footage of many of the participants, said Layton, who shot the film he saw in his head when he heard the various versions of the story. "This isn't truth. It's subjective hyper-reality. It's dreamlike. It's follow-over-their-shoulder through their memory."