A Hollywood story

Christian film producers Jon and Andy Erwin made a wise choice retitling the documentary they based on a biography written by Pastor Greg Laurie from Steve McQueen: The Salvation of an American Icon to simply Steve McQueen: American Icon. I haven’t read Laurie’s book, but the film, showing in theaters Sept. 28, seems far more interested in the icon part of McQueen’s story than the salvation part.

Exploring the spiritual formation of a public figure could be a compelling topic if it does what the best celebrity documentaries do—that is, take us behind the star persona to reveal a real, relatable human being.

After all, as Paul points out in 1 Corinthians 1:26, Christ’s church tends to be mostly made up of the non-influential and non-noble, so we’re naturally curious to hear the rare stories of eye-of-the-needle conversions at the height of wealth and fame. But despite one or two insightful interviews and audio tapes, American Icon fails to plumb depths that even an E! True Hollywood Story would manage.

A brief review of McQueen’s early life and success is certainly in order, but the film goes beyond this to engage in something close to hero worship. About the first 50 minutes is little more than a highlight reel of McQueen’s noteworthy roles, with a series of commentators, including Laurie, Mel Gibson, and McQueen’s former girlfriend Barbara Leigh, counting off reasons the actor was every bit as cool as his reputation.

“He knew the power of the lens,” Gibson opines. “He did what no one else could do,” Leigh gushes. Taken together, it gives the feeling of watching an “In Memoriam” tribute at the Oscars rather than a piece of journalism, which, of course, is what a documentary should be.

As the narrator briefly glosses over McQueen’s time in the military and at the Actors Studio in New York, you can’t help but wonder why Laurie and the Erwins couldn’t find more sources who knew the star before he was famous to provide more grounded observations.

Laurie, neither fully host nor interview subject, jumps back and forth between the two roles to awkward effect. Certain sequences—like Laurie in tight jeans, leaning on muscle cars with flinty gaze—seem to promote the imitation of McQueen rather than encourage careful reflection on his life. It’s a shame, because the glimpses we get of the real McQueen are enough to make us want more.

The most compelling parts of the film are recordings where McQueen himself appears to be trying to dispel his title as “The King of Cool” and talks quietly and humbly about the pain that led him to Christ.

There’s an echo of regret over sins this documentary fails to delve into but that have been widely reported elsewhere—his serial philandering and spousal abuse that once included pointing a gun at his wife’s head. By glossing over McQueen’s failures, the film undercuts the power of his conversion.

Interviews with believers who witnessed to McQueen—his stunt driver, his flight instructor, his pastor—are also frustratingly superficial. McQueen’s pastor tells us the actor had many questions about Christianity, but we don’t learn what they were. Traditional milestones on the path of following Jesus go unaddressed: Was McQueen baptized? If so—when, where? If not, why?

In a recent story for FoxNews.com, Laurie wrote of interviewing McQueen’s son for his biography. Laurie recounts Chad McQueen telling him, “I think Dad was finding his way to go to the next place. I remember, he would wake me up at seven in the morning to go to church, which never happened before he got ill.”

This story, not mentioned in the film, is exactly the kind of detail Steve McQueen: An American Icon needed.