How does one begin to describe William Douglas Street Jr. in a way that makes sense? Perhaps the first person we should ask is “The Chameleon” himself – but it’s very likely he’d not be able to answer it either, since his entire life has seemingly been committed to taking on numerous personalities, all of which propelled by the resounding call to “make some money”, a refrain that seemingly played in his mind every time he adopted a new identity. One of the most notorious con men in American history, Street’s existence was defined by his inability to live within one of his lies long enough to be convincing, which led to his present incarceration based on decades of heinous fraud and misrepresenting himself across multiple professions. His story was the foundation of Chameleon Street, a brilliant and bewildering independent comedy by Wendell B. Harris Jr., who (in addition to writing and directing the film) also plays the man known as ‘Chameleon’ Street, based on his tendency to adopt different names and social reputations, all through his gift of the gab, and his ability to manoeuvre himself into absolutely any position. The film is a fascinating document of a man whose life was dictated by his flighty nature and incredible resourcefulness, where his only discernible skill was that he could effectively mime entire lives, constructing backgrounds for himself that would be the envy of any individual, all through just simply being able to abandon one identity and take on another without even a moment’s hesitation. The result is one of the most profoundly disturbing, but also deeply compelling, independent films of its era, and a work that is slowly but steadily growing in estimation,

Independent cinema has only recently become an area of mainstream appeal, the place where young and rambunctious filmmakers can tell their stories on a smaller scale. However, the chance of one of these films becoming widely seen has only increased with time, so looking back at the earlier years, we find many gems that reside in relative obscurity, but which could potentially stand as someone of the most subversive and brilliant works of their time, had they been seen. Hindsight is always a great gift to an independent filmmaker, and Harris certainly is one such beneficiary. Chameleon Street is not entirely unknown, but it is still quite underseen, which is inexplicable, considering how there was such an enormous push towards telling a more diverse range of stories – with Killer of Sheep, Charles Burnett opened many doors for people like Billy Woodberry and Julie Dash, who became some of the first African-American film directors to have their work seen by wider audiences, even if they still remain relatively underpraised. Harris benefits from this as well, producing a film that is as enthralling and complex as any of the many other films that tackle similar subject matter – but unlike comparable films, Chameleon Street is borne not from the desire to only entertain, but also to profoundly unsettle, which is one of the primary reasons behind the film’s cult status. It is dark, insidious and deeply disturbing, but also bitterly funny and caustic in the way that a well-crafted dark comedy tends to be when it is created by someone entirely committed to the premise – and it’s difficult to imagine any other way of telling Street’s story, with the forthright commitment from the director being carried through from start to finish, leaving us utterly engaged with this peculiar but captivating story.

From beginning to end, Harris is in command of the film, essentially doing everything from composing the script to ensuring that every frame is where it is supposed to be in the final edit. Like many independent filmmakers, he understands the importance of do-it-yourself filmmaking, and rather than hiring actors with name recognition, or industry professionals who have mastered various aspects of the filmmaking process, he finds a way to do almost everything he can himself. The result is a film that may appear raw and visceral in terms of construction, but it finds the merit in this somewhat gritty execution. The film is bold and uncompromising, and almost all credit must go to Harris, whose performance is absolutely extraordinary – not many people who direct themselves in leading roles are capable of doing both with such dedication, but the effort is equally distributed between both aspects, to the point where it almost becomes symbiotic. The director had a very particular vision of how he wanted to tell the story, and by placing himself in the lead role, it seems to imply that his efforts are not solely to tell the story of Street, but to rather inhabit his mind in a way that removes the membrane that reminds the viewer that we are watching a fictionalized portrait of someone, and instead convinces us that we are seeing a true snapshot of his exploits. It’s a difficult task to cause the viewer to suspend disbelief to such a degree, but Harris achieves it here, and accurately summarizes the many challenges that come with telling such a story without showing any weakness at all, proving this to be a much more enduring film than its reputation may suggest.

There’s something so profoundly fascinating about a film that exists at the intersection between a psychological thriller and a character-driven drama about civil unrest and inequality – much like Burnett’s To Sleep with Anger the following year and John Guare’s Six Degrees of Separation (which was adapted to the screen itself a few years later), this film looks at the trials and tribulations of a mysterious individual who ingrains himself in the lives of other people, slowly encroaching on their territory through some morally questionable means. The three stories seem to exist in dialogue with one another, all focusing on the picaresque exploits of a deeply manipulative main character that fools others into thinking that he means well while prying on their oblivious nature and willingness to assume the best in everyone. The narrative also contains an element of inequality, but necessarily in terms of race, but rather social strata, with the main character’s efforts to prove himself to be an affluent member of society concealing a seemingly deep shame that he is nothing but a working-class individual whose highest achievement is seemingly supposed to be the ability to just put food on his table. Living hand-to-mouth is not ideal for everyone, so there are brief moments when we can understand his plight – but Harris never once makes us feel sympathy to Street – his actions are not justified, and his dishonesty is presented objectively, with the ultimate consequences he pays being integral to how Harris tells the story. The gentle but acidic flow of the film reminds us of the chaotic jazz that sometimes punctuates certain scenes, somehow both haunting and beautiful in tandem. Chameleon Street is a work of great artistic merit, far from the conventional crime-based dramas we tend to see when adapting the lives of notorious individuals to the screen.

There is a fine line between being invested in a story of a bad person, and being compassionate towards his activities, and Chameleon Street achieves it beautifully, striking a perfect balance between the two, as well as adding further layers of social and economic commentary that can rival any work of the kitchen-sink realism that propelled this film, as well as the others that were part of the same movement in American independent cinema at the time. There are countless moments in the film that leave the viewer in a state of awe-inspired wonder, whether visually (where the cinematography is so simple, but extraordinarily beautiful), or in how the narrative is constructed, with the stream-of-consciousness approach putting us in a dreamlike trance, from which it is remarkably difficult to emerge. Independent cinema often gives us the chance to be introduced to exciting new voices, and while Chameleon Street is the first and only film Harris directed (as well as his only leading credit, with the rest of his career being inconsequential supporting roles), it represents a truly enthralling set of talents on his part, with his firm vision, sardonic sense of humour and visual prowess lending itself to a riveting portrait of a young man who mastered the art of interpretation – and what we soon come to learn is that when you can’t lead a single honest life, perhaps a good alternative is to live several dishonest ones, especially if you’re deranged enough to be able to commit to such emotional and psychological infidelity. A brilliant work of incredible nuance and raw, untrodden charisma, Chameleon Street is an absolutely revolutionary masterpiece, and one of the finest pieces of independent filmmaking of its era, which is far from an easy accomplishment.