Before there was Robert Downey Jr., there was Robert Downey. "I was just Bob Downey's kid for a long time," says Jr., as he shall be known going forward, in "Sr.," a new film that, much like the father and son at its center, defies easy categorization.
Directed by Chris Smith and currently streaming on Netflix, the film emerged from Jr.'s idea to do a documentary about his father, their history, and their life together. "We're just kind of finding our way into something that we hope winds up being interesting, and not the usual," says Jr., whose East Hampton residence figures prominently in the film.
Sr. emerged in the New York underground film scene in the mid-1960s with a series of ultra-low budget films that shared little but an anarchic, often twisted sense of humor. For example, his 1966 film "Chafed Elbows" is about an oddball son who marries his mother, goes on welfare, and encounters bizarre characters on his meanderings around New York. Because Sr. couldn't afford 16mm film, most of "Chafed Elbows" is edited from still 35mm photographs.
Sr. blasted into the mainstream in 1969 with "Putney Swope," a takedown of corporate culture in which Mr. Swope, the only Black man in an advertising firm, is accidentally put in charge after the sudden death of the board chairman.
In her review in the Baltimore Afro-American, Sandra Dobson said the film was "racist, a bit crude, but no one can say that it isn't one of the most (if not the only) provocative movies of the year. Everyone should go to see it." The Library of Congress agreed, selecting it for preservation in the National Film Registry.
As a homage, Paul Thomas Anderson named a character Buck Swope in his film "Boogie Nights," and he cast Sr. as a record company manager in the film. In an interview, Mr. Anderson says Sr. "has the most fantastic sense of humor, and he just has this incredible confidence to just commit to his rhythm of telling a story."
It's clear from the time spent in Sr.'s company that he has not lost his fearless sense of humor, often self-directed. After we learn he has Parkinson's disease, he tells the director to cut to his shaking hands from time to time, and when it does, he demonstrates how he has to slap his hand to stop it from shaking. "There's a certain way I have to eat now. Otherwise the shit's all over the floor."
But while either of the Downeys can carry a film, it is their complex relationship that is at its core. There is open discussion of Sr.'s relaxed attitude toward drugs, which eventually became a problem for both father and son.
Asked at one point how Sr. was as a father, Jr. says, "Complicated, in that most of his attention was on the process of chasing the muse. I knew we were not like other families." But, he adds, "When I saw cameras, I perceived it as, it's time with my dad."
Lest a viewer expect a straightforward documentary, the fact that Sr. begins assembling his own edit even as he spends time with Jr. and Jr.'s family adds an intriguing dimension to the project. For example, a scene where Sr. comes upon baby ducks in the city leads to its inclusion in the movie, shot according to his direction.
Why? "You need stuff other than movies, for balance," Sr. says. In a later image, a more frail Sr. visits the same ducks, now fully grown.
The copious East Hampton footage centers on the comfortable and spirited life around Jr.'s home, with his wife, Susan, his children, Exton and Avri, and two adored cats. Jr. might be Iron Man onscreen, but Exton, who was 7 at the time, didn't hesitate to repeatedly spray his father with water balloons.
Sr.'s first marriage was to Elsie Ann Ford, who appeared in many of his early films. "Elsie was a great actress," says Larry Wolf, who was also in many of Sr.'s films. "She could have done incredible things on her own, but chose to work with her husband." Their marriage broke up in 1975, when Sr.'s drug usage became an issue.
His second wife, Laura Ernst, was an actress who starred with Jr. in his father's 1990 film "Too Much Sun." They were married in 1991, but she was diagnosed with A.L.S. soon after. During a phone conversation, Jr. asks his father how one processes that with one's life partner. "It was time to grow up," says Sr. "It was time to think of somebody else first."
In a touching moment, Alan Arkin, who was a close friend of Sr., says, "He was as loving and tender [with Laura] as any human being I've ever seen. It was a lesson in how to deal with somebody who's passing."
Reflecting on Sr.'s commitment to being by Laura's side through every phase of the illness, Jr. says to his father, "It's crazy. You really showed up."
Over the course of the film, we see Sr. fading, but he continues editing his version of the film at the edit bay in his apartment. In May 2021, almost three years after shooting began, Jr. and Exton head into New York to see Sr., who is bedridden.
Intercut with that visit is an emotional Zoom conversation between Jr. and a therapist, who asks if there's anything he wants to say to his father. Haltingly, Jr. says, "I just . . . I don't want to . . . I don't want to do the wrong thing."
"We had no overt agenda with this project," Jr. says as the family gathers in East Hampton for a memorial. "I had a sense of what it might be, and I knew that part of it was always going to be the end of his life. . . Is it a contemplation of death? I think it's kind of turning into that, but not in a morose way, just in a 'We're here, we do stuff, and we're gone' way. I love him for what he did. And I love him for what he didn't do."
The final word can come from Sr., who, during the early days of the project, says, "It's exciting, because it's not like anything else."
