Megan Spencer is a rare breed of film critic, because she’s also a filmmaker. Having made a series of documentaries about people hooked on peculiar pastimes, Spencer’s last film is Lovestruck: Wrestling’s No. 1 Fan (playing in Sydney from April 5 - 19, and in Melbourne from April 19 - May 3). Spencer chats to In Film about Lovestruck, as well as film reviewing, filmmaking and the things that lie between.

By Luke Buckmaster

It’s a slur sometimes hurled at film critics: “you don’t make movies, so what would you know?” Megan Spencer, best known for her film reviews on Triple J and the SBS, could have a lot of fun responding to a dig like that. The 40-year-old, proudly Gen-X media personality belongs to a small cut of film critics to whom the DIY argument cannot possibly apply, because she is also - egad! - a filmmaker.

Having made a string of documentaries about people immersed in peculiar passions, Spencer has directed and produced Heathens (1994), Hooked on Christmas (1997), Strange Hungers: Mistress Ursula (2001) and now Lovestruck: Wrestling’s No. 1 Fan. Her presence on radio and TV and her participation in film culture events - including festivals and Project Greenlight Australia - has made her an easily recognisable film commentator, but Spencer is yet to complete the quinella of being widely recognised as a plyer of both trades.

“My film criticism informs me as a filmmaker and vice versa,” she explains over the phone from her home in Sydney. “My heart is 50/50.” The line suddenly goes silent, and a contemplative silence follows.

“Actually, that’s not true. I would much rather be a filmmaker full time, it just hasn’t worked out that way. But I love film criticism. It is also a very rewarding and creative pursuit and job. But I guess if the film gods waved the wand and said we’ll grant you a wish, it would be to be a documentary filmmaker full time.”

It would indeed take a miracle, because almost nobody in Australian can legitimately claim to be a full time filmmaker. By dabbling in different discourses of film culture Spencer has been able to draw a wage from what she loves, which is something she describes as “rare” and “a privilege.” But is there a downside? While it’s a prerequisite for a film critic to be interested in the process of film construction, that logic doesn’t necessarily swing both ways: some filmmakers, for obvious reasons, despise critics and critiquing conventions (i.e. star ratings and verdicts). Could this make Spencer something of a mutineer in the eyes of her star-hating filmmaker colleagues?

“I’ve never had a filmmaker come up and go me over a negative review,” she says. “I think that is because they know that a) my opinion is very subjective and b) they know it’s informed from a whole lot of different areas including the process.”

Every filmmaker hopes their work is well received, and Spencer describes the process of putting a film “out there” as “terrifying.” The title Lovestruck: Wrestling’s No. 1 Fan sounds hyperbolical, but once you’ve stood in the cinematic company of Sue Chuter - the subject of the film - it’s very difficult to imagine anybody more eligible for that mantle. The 55-year-old Chuter is an unashamed professional wrestling nut: she has over 3000 wrestling photos decorating the walls of her Melbourne home, as well as more than 100 wrestling t-shirts and 4000 plus DVDs and videos. Chuter has met plenty of the pros herself, sharing a first name basis with some of them, and she’s one of the local scene’s most recognizable figures. Clearly Chuter became infatuated with wrestling at a young age and never grew out of it; wrestling aficionados of course will argue that the central ingredients - soap opera histrionics and artificial, grandiose sporting hijinx - appeal indiscriminately. Regardless, Sue Chuter spectacularly defies the demographic.

“You may not think that a 55-year-old woman would spend most of her time and money and effort involved in wrestling fandom,” Spencer says.

“But we all have our predilections and interests, and this just happens to be hers, and she commits to it 110 percent…Like the rest of us, she really is just trying to find a place to belong and the wrestling world is where she fits.”

Chuter’s personality is difficult to place: she’s obviously a devoted, genuine and generous soul, with a candid, dweeby zealousness in the way she moves; she’s a high-powered geek who sweats fandom out of every pore. But outside the wrestling spectrum the film can’t simplify the prickly realms of her personal life, and nor should it; Chuter’s estranged one moment and not the next relationship with her daughter is a mystery, as is her marriage to an overseas wrestling fan (they email and chat on the phone ever day). Chuter is clearly a woman who dances to the rhythms of her own beat, and Spencer believes that she’s indicative of the kinds of people who make interesting documentary subjects. Spencer is clearly a little bit lovestruck herself.

“I have made a series of films about people with obsessions, and particular peculiar passions, and she fits the bill. It was very instinctive on my behalf, and I am interested in people who perhaps don’t fit the societal or cultural mould. They are the people I want to make films about.”

Edited by Julie-Anne De Ruvo, who recently cut Razzle Dazzle, Lovestruck clocks in at a lean 52 minutes. One of the potentially sobering things about releasing a small/zero budget movie is determining how to best place it in the market, and, if necessary, bending the vision to accommodate commercial potential. After initially editing a feature length version Spencer and co. decided that Lovestruck’s best chances were for a small screen life, and thus the shorter running time (52 minutes equates to a TV hour). Often for a director this kind of trimming means wiping away a tear as good footage hits the editing room floor, but Spencer “wasn’t faced with the dilemma of losing my darlings.”

“I actually think that now it is a stronger film at 52 minutes, ironically,” she says. “We packed more into it, in a sense, so that you are kind of getting, I suppose, feature value for money at a slightly shorter length.”

So far attempts to place Lovestruck in the television market haven’t been successful; ABC and the SBS - despite Spencer’s presence on both networks (the ABC’s Triple J and SBS’s The Movie Show) - have passed. But there are plenty of options left to explore, such as overseas markets and cable networks, and Australians can catch the film at the cinema on a short theatrical release in Sydney (Chauvel Cinema, April 5 - 19) and Melbourne (Cinema Nova, April 19 - May 3). Lovestruck is a compelling portrait of obsession: funny, humane and infectiously passionate. It has an odd running time for cinema exhibition, but Spencer is right when she says that “people don’t mind paying money for a good film.”

“I hope people do find value for money,” she says, “because this is a fairly unique film in the Australian landscape. Plus it’s about wrestling, the greatest sport that ever was, and a unique individual who is completely passionate about it. I don’t think you can get a much better recipe for a documentary than that.”

Those last words, they have the jive and flow of somebody who’s very much accustomed to talking about films. Maybe even professionally. It’s almost as if - egad! - they came from a film critic.

By Luke Buckmaster