Harlan Ellison made me realize I wanted to translate my personal visions of the night into stories that might touch other people. As I gobbled up his fiction -- everything I could find in the library, including ones that appeared in magazines, other anthologies, and his own story collections -- I discovered his non-fiction, his essays, his criticism, his film reviews, his introductions, and realized I had discovered an absent mentor who taught by printed example.

Ever since, I've aspired to reach his level of mastery. I realized long ago that it was a futile goal, that I did not share the same spark of creativity and imagination as he did. Still, I try, even today, because even though I'll never reach that level, I feel that I am a better writer for constantly stretching myself to get better.

So, no, I am not objective about Harlan Ellison, and so you may not believe me when I tell you that Erik Nelson's Dreams with Sharp Teeth is the best documentary I have ever seen.

To define that further, the film allows Ellison to tell stories, often in long, unbroken takes, that reveal the kind of life he has led. It includes interviews Nelson has conducted since 1981, as well as vintage television talk show appearances and still photos, that cover the biographical high points: his childhood in a small town near Cleveland, Ohio, his leaving home in his mid-teens, his military service, his beginnings as a writer in New York in the 1950s, his move to Los Angeles in 1962, his work in television, his credit as screenwriter for the terminally awful The Oscar, his mark on the science fiction field (even though almost none of his fiction could be accurately described as science fiction), his politics, his legendary legal battles.

Nelson also films Ellison doing dramatized readings from his written work, spell-binding excerpts that, again, help capture the essence of the man.

Of course, the doc leaves out some less than flattering incidents that personal critics of Ellison will pounce upon. But in interviews conducted with friends such as Neil Gaiman and Robin Williams, the good and the bad aspects of his personality are frankly discussed, with the good obviously outweighing the bad for them -- obviously, or else they wouldn't stil be friends.

The most remarkable aspect of the doc, the aspect that truly sets Dreams with Sharp Teeth apart from nearly all bio-docs I can think of in which the subject is extensively interviewed, is Ellison's acknowledgment of his personality flaws. Yet it's not mere lip service; Ellison displays a far keener degree of self-knowledge than most people would ever speak about in public. In short, he knows he's an "asshole" and wishes he wouldn't get angry at the drop of a hat, and stay that way the entire day, but that's who he is, kiddoo. That serves as a counterpoint to his endless self-promotion and runaway ego, which you can never take too seriously.

And I buried the lede, because the documentary is extraordinarily, richly funny. Ellison has no censor button, and says the most outrageous things that provoke belly laughs.

Never fear: If you've never heard of Ellison, you'll still enjoy yourself, just because he's so funny. I talked to various people after the screening, who'd either never heard of him or knew very little about him, and the reactions were all positive.

If I described Dreams with Sharp Teeth as "amazing" and Ellison happened to read that description, he'd disclaim the description as an abuse of the word "amazing" -- "that's not amazing, amazing would be if you pulled a yak out of your butt!" -- but it's my review and I must insist that the film is amazing: revealing and thoughtful, a true portrait of a man, a writer, and a kindly savior.