Batman and Me takes a startling look at an obsessive fan — and the director judging him

polygon.com:

Documentary filmmaking has traditionally fostered a lot of big philosophical clashes over method and intent, but one of the most common points of former contention now feels like it may have gone the way of the buggy whip and the suitcase-sized mobile phone. Back in 1975, when the Maysles brothers released their sad, stunning mother-and-daughter portrait Grey Gardens, they were widely accused of exploiting their oblivious subjects by befriending them, then holding them up to public ridicule. Similar criticisms were levied at Chris Smith for his inadvertently hilarious 1999 doc American Movie, which outs indie filmmaker Mark Borchardt as a clumsy amateur, simply by watching him work. But these days, that particular complaint seems to come up far less often, whether it’s because filmmakers are more sensitive about how their subjects might be perceived, or because it’s so common for people to expose their own lives online that we’re collectively beyond the idea that public visibility is invasive or embarrassing.

Michael Wayne’s doc Batman and Me might restart the debate. His low-key look at an obsessive collector of Batman paraphernalia is only gently squirmy compared to Grey Gardens. It unfolds with a fascinating specificity that goes well beyond the Batman details, and unlocks a lot of conversation-starting thoughts about the various ways and reasons people associate with different fandoms.

But Wayne’s mildly adversarial, even dismissive attitude toward his subject is notably off-putting, and seems designed to lead viewers into a similar mindset. It occasionally feels as though he’s elbowing the audience in the ribs, with a “Get a load of this guy!” message — and in the process, possibly misunderstanding that audience,