There are many different forms of documentary, but the ones that tend to be the most fascinating are usually those that are portraits of unusual individuals. In this regard, you don’t get anyone more peculiar than Dr Timothy Leary, the world-renowned Harvard professor who abandoned his academic career to become inarguably the most notable proponent for LSD at a time in which drugs were at their most controversial – the counterculture movement experimented with a range of mind-altering substances and psychedelic drugs, while the government and their many cronies attempted to get rid of what they saw as an epidemic, an assault on good, old-fashioned conservative American values. However, Leary is only marginally related to the topic of today’s discussion, since his death in 1996 has meant that he is no longer present to answer the burning questions many of us have had for him over the past few decades, especially in a time when we’re not only questioning the failures of the War on Drugs that he himself rebelled against, but the very principles of identity and looking beyond what we are told is true, which is more resonant today than it ever was. However, despite Leary himself being a distant memory, we did have access to Johanna Harcourt-Smith, a woman who was romantically involved with Leary for many years, and who offered her services to a crew of filmmakers, relaying her experiences with the iconoclastic professor, revealing insights into both his personal and professional struggles, all set to the backdrop of a love story that would make any of the great romanticists envious of the lengths of their passion. Behind the camera is a familiar voice, that of one of the few documentarians perfectly capable of tackling this incredible story – Errol Morris, arguably one of non-fiction cinema’s finest directors, and someone who has been able to capture the trials and tribulations of everyone from government officials to the regular folk who existed under their rule.

The two distinct voices come together in My Psychedelic Love Story, an ambitious, decades-spanning manifesto that dives deep into the psychology of one of history’s most rebellious voices, all told through the perspective of someone who got closer to him than perhaps anyone else – and the result is a stunning, powerful story of individuality and revolution against society’s more haunting ideals, all captured in vivid detail by a director perhaps too good at portraying reality on screen, almost to the point where he gets to that elusive moment where we are completely lost in the world he is representing, proving that reality can often be stranger than fiction. This is certainly not the Morris we remember from his earlier days, directing films such as Vernon, Florida and Gates of Heaven, which were formative moments in the creation of the talking-head documentary style – but the remnants of a director perpetually exploring his fascination with not only distinct historical moments or geographical contexts, but his undying interest in the human condition, using his platform as a means to simply engage directly with his subjects. As indicated by the title and description, My Psychedelic Love Story has a single perspective, that of the aforementioned Harcourt-Smith, who is not only telling her own story, but also that of her beloved Leary, for whom she has both undying respect and irreconcilable hatred, since their time together was punctuated with moments of immense passion, and harrowing despair – and it’s all portrayed so beautifully through a series of conversations Morris has with the writer, who bares her soul and makes it very clear that she enjoys relaying her past, but not without acknowledging that, with any revisitation of a particular time in one’s life, there does come an enormous amount of pain and emotion, which Morris never avoids portraying, within the conventions of both artistic integrity and interpersonal sincerity, which is definitively why he is one of the most faithful interpreters working in the realm of documentary filmmaking.

The challenge with documentaries in a modern context is that we’re spoiled for choice – the abundance of fascinating stories, and the wealth of potential platforms for them to be told (and the relative simplicity in producing them, with the only necessary equipment being a camera, an editing machine and, most importantly, an interesting subject) have all made the genre one that can sometimes be overwhelming in content – however, Morris is part of the old-guard of documentarians, and as a result, nearly everything he makes is going to carry some prestige. My Psychedelic Love Story may be a relatively minor work in comparison to his other films, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is once again weaving an unforgettable story that takes the viewer on a wild journey deep into the heart of something we may have all heard about in passing, or encountered over time, but never having access to it in quite the way we’re being offered through this film. Duality is a primary concept propelling My Psychedelic Love Story forward – on one hand, it’s an elegy to one of the twentieth-century’s most enigmatic figures, a man whose public persona took many forms – academic, cutting-edge psychologists, anti-establishment mercenary and revolutionary extraordinaire. However, it’s the other side of the film that makes it so compelling, where we’re presented with perspective that shows Leary behind closed doors – as an insecure, middle-aged man trying to make a difference, fighting against a system he was truly opposed to, while maintaining whatever domestic life he could glean from the fleeting days in between his imminent arrests. This is what fascinates Morris, and what compelled Harcourt-Smith to seek him out, as per her claims midway through the film. What transpires once the camera is on and the conversation begins, is a hauntingly beautiful love story that shows a woman, nearing the end of her life, reflecting back on her earliest days, commenting not only on her experiences with Leary, but on her life before, during and after their romance – and never before has a story of a passionate love and the imminent demise of a relationship come in a form quite as unforgettable as My Psychedelic Love Story, which truly lives up to its striking title.

Leary was a fascinating figure, but what has made him so compelling is how mysterious he was. This would naturally indicate that a film like My Psychedelic Love Story would be counter-productive to the aspects that have kept him such an enduring figure – but if anyone was going to try and gain insights into a public figure’s life without eroding his reputation or the folkloric admiration the masses have for him, it’s Morris, who has always tended to be quite compassionate, even when working on portraits of some of history’s most troubling individuals, or diving deep into a side of life that would perhaps not normally be considered to inspire the kind of entertaining, irreverent documentary that the director is best known for. Keeping his artistic interests at arm’s length, and instead focusing on simply giving the stage to Harcourt-Smith to relay her own version of events (which are presented in an almost stream-of-consciousness format, with repeated details and far-fetched claims being absolutely essential to the effectiveness of her narrative), only interrupting when it is essential and necessary to the direction of the story. The loose-structure benefits the film massively – how else can one hope to tell the story of the inner life of a figure as gloriously deranged as Leary without bright colours, rapid editing and an array of facts that are thrown at us with furious intensity, each one contributing even more to the understanding of the two central figures. Morris’ ability to take this raw footage and turn it into something that not only makes sense, but actually contributes to a discourse that far supersedes the sometimes petty details of Leary’s life (which are often defined by oscillating lectures, publications and arrests in any particular order), and becomes quite a daring and ambitious project that keeps the viewer engaged and interested, and will have them clamouring to find out even more about someone who has always been a source of considerable interest to every generation that his legacy has inspired.

There is so much more to a film like My Psychedelic Love Story than simply sitting its narrator in front of a camera and having her relay her experiences – this is not an interview, but a beautifully-structure commemoration of someone who we don’t normally expect to be the inspiration behind such a touching work of remembrance. On the surface, it seems like Morris once again took a notable public figure and set out to present a portrait of their lives through engaging with various texts and conversing with those that may have known them (and the multimodal nature of this film doesn’t go unnoticed – the seamless combination of interviews, archival footage and fragments of Leary’s life make this an even more thoroughly unforgettable exploration of his philosophy and the legacy it has inspired), which has been the modus operandi of many of the great non-fiction filmmakers over time. Yet, there is so much more to this narrative than just what we perceive based on an exterior glance – it’s ability to take someone as eccentric as Leary, who is not normally seen as endearing beyond his most notable quirks, and make him appear not as a larger-than-life public figure, but a flawed human being with enormous insecurities and personal problems that extended far beyond his legal troubles, makes My Psychedelic Love Story such a wonderfully complex work that sheds light on someone who isn’t often the subject of such a tender portrait. Whether we consider this a result of the somewhat biased perspective of its primary source, whose life becomes just as prominent in this narrative as that of her more famous lover, or the work of a director who could humanize absolutely anyone, there’s very little doubt that My Psychedelic Love Story is an absolute triumph, and a work certainly worth seeking out for anyone looking for insights into both the counter-culture era, and one of its most notable figures.