There's always, at the very least, a hint of naivete and childlike wonder hidden in the hearts and souls of your everyday artist, whether they be musicians, writers, painters, actors, filmmakers...what have you. Every so often, an artist comes along whose entire being is made up of this magical, and yet frustratingly volatile, pixie dust. That person is Daniel Johnston, and what a story he has to tell. Unbelievable things have happened to him in his lifetime, and he's still going strong, perhaps even more strongly than before thanks to the creation of this documentary. Johnston has overcome every roadblock imaginable, from not acutally being able to sing to not actually being able to play guitar, and yet his songs are accessible and catchy, if you can get past his voice that is, but for me personally, that's part of its rough-hewn charm. I was so impressed with this film that as soon as it ended, I started the movie again. I just could not believe the tale I was just told. I don't expect everyone to have the same reaction, but you should AT LEAST give this a watch to experience the life of one of underground pop's most underrated, tragic songwriters.