Film

Countless pop stars have begrudged their fame. But few defied it so purposefully as Scott Walker, a ’60s teen idol turned ruthlessly avant-garde vocalist-composer. Stephen Kijak’s 30 Century Man hacks away at the mythology surrounding the enigmatic artist, proving that his about-face wasn’t nearly as abrupt as it often seems. Clumsy in spots, the film still does justice to the profundity of Walker’s evolution.

Rare sit-downs with the singer provide myriad insights into his development and process. It’s valuable to learn, for example, that Jacques Brel was the key influence that led Walker away from easy-listening schmaltz. But just as instructive are the testimonies from various British pop icons: What other artist could leave both David Bowie (30 Century Man’s executive producer) and Brian Eno genuinely dumbfounded?

The film’s greatest strength is its thorough unpacking of Walker’s early work, which presages the freakish catharses to come. So when 30 Century Man arrives at 2004 footage of the singer in the studio, instructing a percussionist how to correctly punch a side of raw beef, it’s clear he’s anything but loony. Cheesy graphics and an awful introduction likening Walker to Orpheus threaten the film’s composure. But overall Kijak manages to illuminate his prodigiously eccentric subject without demystifying him.