As multiplexes become ever more populated with super heroes, sequels, and sequels to super hero movies, the hundreds of millions of dollars spent on each behemoth are settling to deliver the same bombast under a different title. While some theater goers are still plugged in to this Hollywood hamster wheel, seeking even bigger thrills amid countless shared universes, remakes, and licensed properties, others have become nostalgic for the heady days of the Seventies and Eighties, where the market was structured such that someone with a minimum of funding, some hungry actors, and the right amount of chutzpah could get a film made. Drive-ins, grindhouse theaters, and the VHS market were driven by cheap, lurid product. While a great number of these films were dreck and have justifiably become as extinct as VCRs and Saturday double-features, a few of these films, owing to their inventiveness, audacity, and occasional quality have weathered the test of time and await discovery by movie hounds exhausted by mega-spectacle overload. The work of the maverick filmmaker Larry Cohen is an exemplar of this kind of material. The documentary King Cohen: The Wild World of Filmmaker Larry Cohen offers a retrospective on the man, his work, and the idiosyncrasies that made both great.

The “fondly remembering genre films” documentary has become a genre unto itself, with reverent features being produced to laud the B-movie godfather Roger Corman, two separate chronicles of Cannon films, in-depth studies of the Filipino and Australian grindhouse scenes, and process pictures as varied as Best Worst Move (about the making of Troll 2), Burden of Dreams, and the still unequaled American Movie. King Cohen fits easily in among these films, given the length and breadth of Cohen’s career and the many leaps of faith he has taken to create and maintain it. There are plenty of excellent talking heads, including Martin Scorsese, John Landis, Joe Dante, Rick Baker, and many of the actors from Cohen’s films, including muse Michael Moriarty. Both Cohen’s ex and current wife are also on hand to give a picture of the creator away from the set. Director Steve Mitchell, whose writing credit on Chopping Mall indicates his familiarity with Cohen’s province in the film industry, has done the legwork to give each of the director’s films its due.

Though getting the background on the baby effects in It’s Alive from Rick Baker and the iconic Andy Kaufman scene in God Told Me To is invaluable for Cohen fans, the real star here is the man himself, first glimpsed pining for recognition at a sci-fi convention. He later holds forth like Robert Evans in The Kid Stays in the Picture, relating seemingly impossible stories of his rise through the golden age of television and the frustration with the Hollywood system that motivated his decision to work on the margins of the film industry. Here Cohen is truly in his element, dropping names and details on his triumphs and failures.

Early in the film, he reveals his original desire was to be a borscht belt comedian. He uses these impulses to good effect, whether talking about shaming Fred Williamson into doing stunts for Black Caesar or offering with a straight face that Q the Winged Serpent is the second best giant monster movie ever made. The tone, even when discussing the Bette Davis misfire Wicked Stepmother or two whiffs at establishing a Mike Hammer franchise, is a blend of New York pragmatism and Catskills yuks, overlaid with an “ain’t life grand” nostalgia.

The one real drawback to the film is that this tone seems to permeate the film, from the director’s remembrances to the testimonials offered by actors, contemporaries, and even his ex-wife. As a seasoned viewer of show business documentaries, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the accolades kept coming. The one holdout here is Fred Williamson, who calls bullshit on some of Cohen’s stories from Black Caesar and also speaks freely about his experience working with Cohen on 1996’s Original Gangstas. Williamson’s frank assessment of Cohen’s take on events and refusal to go along with the saccharine sentiments of the other interviewees hint at another, more compelling film that might have existed. Though King Cohen is fine as a reverent tribute, putting Cohen in the same room with Williamson for ninety minutes would have been riveting.

The same goes for the discussion of “stealing” scenes, a practice that enhanced the realism of Cohen’s films and helped them come in under budget. It is treated with kid gloves during the discussion of Cohen’s method, though more than once in the film, it is mentioned that unsuspecting civilians were endangered and that such shenanigans would not be possible in a post 9/11 world. Interviewees offer a smile and a shrug, perhaps wishing for the good old days, but some of the footage looks genuinely reckless and the false alarm Cohen triggered on the set of Q is no laughing matter in the age of swatting and mass shootings. Again, a more critical eye on the subject would elevate the film and silence the nagging doubt that King Cohen might just be another Larry Cohen production.

That said, King Cohen is a worthy entry into the movie documentary category, and a fine introduction for film buffs looking to up their knowledge of malicious yogurt and homicidal babies. Cohen’s filmography has and will continue to speak for itself, but the filmmaker and his assorted family and associates do an excellent, if somewhat sanitized job of depicting how this singular filmmaker’s unique brand of magic has traveled to the silver screen.

King Cohen: The Wild World of Filmmaker Larry Cohen hits theaters July 20!