This is an absolutely compelling and involving documentary, about an utterly singular man. Writer-director Amiel Courtin-Wilson (who first garnered attention in 2000 with his award winning documentary Chasing Buddha) follows Jack Charles over a period of seven years, and - with the charismatic Charles himself providing the commentary - builds an unforgettable filmic portrait.

So who is Jack? There's no simple answer to that, and therein lies the fascination. He's diminutive yet imposing, with a beard and long flowing hair that suggest a mix of gnome and Old Testament prophet. He's an Aborigine - born in 1943 - and a (typically) outrageously treated member of The Stolen Generation. He's a veteran actor of stage and screen, and founded the first Aboriginal theatre company. He featured in The Chant Of Jimmie Blacksmith and Bedevil. He's a deeply moving blues singer. He's also a long term heroin addict, and an intermittent burglar and jailbird. But even the diversity of Jack's "CV" is not the central point here - it's his take on it, and how he articulates it. Jack is ferociously intelligent and eloquent, yet ostensibly calm and contented even when reduced to sleeping in a (ladies') toilet. He speaks drolly, and rejects self pity while conveying heartbreaking pain. He rationalises robbing the white rich as "collecting the rent", and says of smack, "If this is harmful, bring on the hurt please". But like most junkies, he hurts his friends too. You alternate between wanting to hug Jack for his vulnerability, and shake him for his amorality.

Bastardy is quite extraordinary, and consistently surprising. Very occasionally, it seems a tad over-produced: the subject can and does speak for himself. That, however, is just a minor quibble - this is a must-see.