Val: A Soul Laid Bare

Following the recent passing of Val Kilmer, the iconic actor who shone in the '80s and '90s, I stumbled upon a documentary on Amazon Prime simply titled Val (2021). Let me tell you: it’s a raw, brutal, and deeply human gem that grips you from the first minute.

Kilmer, known for unforgettable films like Top Secret!, Top Gun, and The Doors, was obsessed with cameras. He compulsively recorded his life, amassing over 800 hours of home videos: from his childhood, his bond with his brothers, his family, his daughters, and his ex-wife, to his personal struggles, divorce, and most intimate projects. For the documentary, all of this was masterfully edited by Leo Scott (a close collaborator of the genius Harmony Korine). The result is a unique window into the life of a perfectionist, complex, and misunderstood artist.

The documentary takes us on the rollercoaster of Val’s career. It shows how Kilmer, a devotee of method acting, brought unforgettable characters to life. For instance, in Top Secret!, a surreal comedy he admitted he didn’t fully understand, he kicked off an era of wild humor later embraced by names like Will Ferrell and Adam Sandler. Then came Top Gun, where his “Tom Iceman” stole the screen opposite Tom Cruise, even though Kilmer confessed the role didn’t initially excite him. His obsession with detail led him to craft a rich backstory for a character that, in theory, was secondary and not considered antagonistic enough by some.

But the documentary’s most riveting moment comes with The Doors. Kilmer fought tooth and nail to play Jim Morrison. He rented a studio with his own money, recording himself mimicking the legendary singer’s gestures, voice, and movements after studying hours of Morrison’s footage. The result was so striking that former Doors members were floored—they couldn’t tell Kilmer’s voice from Morrison’s. Oliver Stone had no doubts, and Kilmer delivered a performance that still gives goosebumps to many today.

However, it wasn’t all a fairy tale. Batman Forever could have been his crowning moment but ended up a personal letdown. Trapped in a suit that barely let him move, Kilmer felt he couldn’t act. While villains like Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey shone with over-the-top performances, he was frustrated: “All you see are my mouth and eyes—how do I act like this?” Though the film was a commercial hit, Kilmer walked away from the sequel without hesitation, chasing projects that let him express himself, like Heat alongside De Niro and Pacino, or The Island of Dr. Moreau, where he worked with his idol Marlon Brando—though the shoot was a disaster, and the film flopped in every way.

Val also reveals his most vulnerable side. Kilmer faced throat cancer that ravaged his voice and, ultimately, his life. Yet he never stopped creating. He pressed on with personal theater projects, including a play about Mark Twain, a character he’d become obsessed with until illness halted him. Unable to bring the play to the big screen as he’d dreamed, his passion endured.

Val is partly a tribute to Kilmer’s career. But it’s also a tribute to his life, showcasing the passion, sacrifice, and fragility of his existence—and of life itself. Scott’s magic in assembling this work reflects its harsh, raw vision—heart-wrenching and tender in equal measure, yet always mesmerizing. Kilmer was a singular figure who opened the door to his soul like few others have.