James thought long, hard before shooting 'Stevie'

Filmmaker Steve James is best known for "Hoop Dreams," the Oscar-nominated 1994 documentary about two talented inner-city basketball players. Now he's back with another real-life story of a young man facing a not-always-welcoming world — but this film, "Stevie" (opening today at the Varsity), is a very different experience.

"With 'Hoop Dreams,' you immediately wanted the best for these two boys and their families," said James, in Seattle on a recent visit. "They have dreams, they're likable kids, wide-eyed and innocent. With 'Stevie,' people have to come to terms with how they feel about the characters in it."

"Stevie" is Stevie Fielding, a young man from rural Illinois to whom James was once a Big Brother. The two lost track of each other in 1985 when James moved to Chicago to begin his film career, and reconnected 10 years later. In the intervening years, Stevie had grown from a troubled adolescent to an angry young man with a lengthy rap sheet. Bitter about the abuse he had suffered from family members and in foster homes, he appeared to have continued the cycle; shortly after his re-connection with James, Stevie was arrested and accused of molesting a young cousin.

But "Stevie" is not just the story of Stevie's troubles — like "Hoop Dreams," it's a portrait of a family over a period of years, and it contains both villains and heroes.

And, unlike the previous film, James is very much a character in the story. "This is the most honest film I've ever made," said James, "and for it to be really, truly honest, I couldn't leave myself out. This wasn't just Stevie's story."

We see James interacting with Stevie and his family, often to little avail. He tries to assist Stevie as the younger man grapples with lawyers, law enforcement and his imprisonment; suggesting therapy (which is rebuffed), offering advice, shopping for a birthday gift. All the while, James was dealing with a double level of guilt. Could he have helped Stevie if he hadn't dropped out of his life? And, now that Stevie's life was in turmoil, was he doing him any favors by pointing a camera at him?

James had originally conceived the film before Stevie's arrest, thinking it would be a brief, impressionistic portrait of a young man. After the arrest, the story changed. James decided, after much thought, that he would continue with the film, although it became an ethical dilemma that he never quite resolves.

"On the one hand, am I exploiting a relationship with him in a troubled situation to just make a film? Should I just let him be and let him remain anonymous? Or is the act of making a film like this something that can have some value? Obviously I believe that films like this have value, or I wouldn't do them at all. But it is one of those dilemmas — if you decide to make the film, you can't ever feel completely at peace."

Since completing "Stevie," James has shown the film to all members of Stevie's family except Fielding — the prison will not allow a screening. (Since entering prison in 1999, Fielding has repeatedly gotten into trouble, and seems likely to serve his full 10-year sentence.) James is hoping they might reconsider.

"But everybody else has seen it, and everybody has pretty much said that the film is accurate, true and fair. They may not be very pleased with some spots, because it's such a difficult part of their lives. But the film moves them and I know that there are reasons for doing it."

Among the many characters we meet in the film are Stevie's faithful fiancée, Tonya (who, movingly, seems to understand Stevie better than anyone else, and truly loves him); his stepsister, Brenda, whose new baby appears as the film's true ray of hope; his stable if distant stepgrandmother Verna; and his much-reviled mother, Bernice, who turns out to not be a villain but a troubled woman trying to find a way back into her children's lives.

James acknowledges that "Stevie" may be a tough sell — it's not a feel-good story, and viewers may be reluctant to spend two hours with Stevie Fielding and his family. But he found the experience ultimately uplifting.

"Making films like 'Stevie' and 'Hoop Dreams,' they actually restore my faith in people. Not the other way around. Even though this is a story that's full of sadness, I didn't come out of this with a lesser feeling about the goodness of people. It restores it."

Moira Macdonald: mmacdonald@seattletimes.com