Shot on several different cameras using various film stocks over the course of a decade — some grainy 16 mm, some video, some newer 32 mm — Freestyle might sound like the visual equivalent of a Moreauian beast, shambling through the underbrush, begging to be killed rather than returned to the mad vivisectionist's operating table. But it isn't. It's much more like Frankenstein's monster — cobbled together from dozens of parts, but still intelligent, visually coherent and, in a way, sort of beautiful. Or, casting aside awkward references to 19th century science fiction altogether, it’s a lot like a freestyle rap, having been filmed completely off-the-cuff with no budget and no planning. Nothing, in other words, but the creativity and ability of the artist to guide it.

In this case, the artist in question is one Kevin Fitzgerald (a.k.a. DJ Organic), a musician and filmmaker who spent most of his life in Los Angeles, but currently resides in Vancouver. At one point in the early ’90s, he was struck by the idea to film a documentary about freestyle rap culture on the West Coast and model it after an underground mixtape and Fitzgerald didn't let petty limitations like money and experience slow him down. He just picked up a camera and pointed it at his friends — for the better part of a decade.

“Technically, there's a lot of flaws in it because we just didn't have the budget,” says Fitzgerald. “There wasn't perfect lighting or perfect sound, but I think we did a pretty good job with what we had. I purposely kind of wanted to make an underground hip hop film in a way. That was the way I saw my friends making their underground hip hop records at the time — Freestyle Fellowship and Jurassic 5, all these guys were doing all of that themselves and I was like, maybe we can do that with a film. Just do it all freestyle.”

Though some of the film’s elements — like a focus on beefing rappers and opinions about the competence of the LAPD — can get a touch repetitive, the love, intellect and five-year editing process that went in are apparent in every frame. Fitzgerald thinks — and most critics agree — that the investment was worth it, however. The New York Times calls Fitzgerald's film “a rousing education in an art form that is too often misunderstood,” or, to appropriate a different sort of reference: Freestyle be to rap (films) what key be to lock.

“The reason I made it, I think, will stand the test of time,” says Fitzgerald. “To me, creativity is spiritual. The actual fact that we're alive, able to talk and able to communicate with each other, to me, is amazing. So when you have some kids from the ’hood where everything is supposed to be bad and everything you hear in the media is negative and you see these guys creating poems, that's just amazing.... I grew up in L.A., and there was a park where people were serving wheat grass and gangsters were freestyling with each other. Every Thursday night. To me, that was church.”

So, you ask, how can I see Freestyle and make up for all the wasted hours of my pathetic life that I haven't spent watching this movie? Well, you have a few options. The film is available on Amazon for about $20 and Future Shop sometimes carries it as part of a package with the excellent Scratch, a documentary on turntables and the men who love them. Ideally, though, you could watch the film on a big screen, with Fitzgerald himself, as part of this year's Sled Island festival. The screening takes place this Sunday, June 28 at the Plaza, and will feature a DJ set by Fitzgerald and an additional screening of the adorably low-budget music video for the awesome “Outside Inn” by Dragon Fli Empire ft. Cadence Weapon.