The thought of family members aging, facing fading days and increasing difficulties with what were once simple tasks can be wrenching – so what would happen if you were suddenly faced with a relative who wished to escape the pain and diminished abilities and kill themselves? The "right to die" issue inflames the public consciousness like few others these days – filmmaker Susan Stern probes said issue from a distinctly personal perspective in her absorbing, poignant documentary The Self-Made Man.

Originally broadcast on PBS in July 2005 (on the fringes of the Terri Schiavo furor) as part of its "POV" series, writer/director/producer Stern's film details the bizarre yet true story of her father, solar energy pioneer Bob Stern, who upon learning that he was afflicted with prostate cancer and an aortic aneurysm, took stock of his life and decided to contemplate taking his own life rather than undergoing potentially life-saving surgery – even going so far as to videotape a farewell speech of sorts to his children, excerpts from which are hauntingly interspersed throughout. His surprising decision shocked his family (they feel as though he's treating life as some sort of cosmic balance sheet) and made for some surreal, contentious months in the summer of 2001. I won't spoil the outcome for those who haven't seen the film, but the journey to the conclusion of Stern's story is as surprising as it is heartbreaking.

The Self-Made Man is a title that drips with irony; Bob Stern prides himself on being a "businessman's businessman," a relentless go-getter with a can-do attitude and the ability to see any project, big or small, through to its inevitably successful conclusion. In attempting to take back control of his life when diagnosed with cancer and heart trouble, his daughter posits that Bob is merely taking the notion of a successful life to its unsettling but logical conclusion: if one can create one's own concept of a perfect life, why not the perfect death?

For as much as the film charts Bob's decision and his family's reaction, The Self-Made Man is also a film of discovery and reconciliation – Bob Stern is portrayed as an irascible, stubborn, and determined man who grudgingly loved his family. He wasn't emotionally abusive by any stretch, but merely remote and stingy with praise and affection. What begins as a wry, self-aware look at euthanasia shifts into a film concerned with a very real social flashpoint by its conclusion – in probing her own family, Susan Stern raises questions that affect all of us.

The Video:

The Self-Made Man is offered in 1.33:1 fullscreen, as originally broadcast, and looks pretty solid for having been filmed on 16 mm and 8 mm – the videotaped segments are a little fuzzy and blown-out, but all of the newly created portions are sharp and free from defect.

Like the visual side of things, The Self-Made Man is offered as originally broadcast: in Dolby 2.0 stereo. Relying heavily on interviews and narration, the film is heard clearly and without distortion. The score fills in nicely, lending a slight punch.

In the supplemental material department, Stern contributes a candid, informative commentary track and also sits for a six minute, 13 second interview, during which she details the hows and whys of her obviously deeply personal project.

The Self-Made Man is a thoughtful, poignant examination of a hot-button topic through the clarity of one family's admittedly abnormal experience – compelling, well-made and provocative, it's a documentary well worth seeking out. Recommended.