Broomfield set out to document the circumstances of Cobain's depression and suicide. Naturally, he sought to interview Cobain's widow. But Love refused, and she soon began to exert her increasing influence to stop others from cooperating as well. Financing for the film from Showtime and MTV was abruptly withdrawn under pressure from Love. As a result, Broomfield was forced to turn to Love's enemies. And boy, does this woman have enemies. Among those who come forward to testify is a punk rocker named Roz who was involved with Love before she married Cobain. Roz and Courtney did not exactly part on amicable terms, and Roz saved notebooks in which Love outlined a course to fame and fortune for herself that involved attaching herself to a famous musician.

Another vehement Love detractor is private detective Tom Grant, who forthrightly believes Love had her husband murdered. He makes much of the fact that Cobain was massively stoned on heroin when he died and the inescapably troubling facts that neither the death weapon nor its bullets bore Cobain's fingerprints. In addition, Grant points out that Cobain's suicide note appears to have been altered at the end to include a loving farewell to his wife. Near the picture's conclusion, Broomfield talks with the nanny for Cobain and Love's daughter, Frances. The terrified and reluctant nanny says that Love was obsessed with her husband's will and often taunted him about his depression, daring him to kill himself.

Less credible witnesses include Love's odious father, Hank Harrison, who shows up to promote his book alleging that Love hired Cobain's killer. Watching Harrison, we certainly know where Courtney got both her instincts for self-promotion and her vengeful spirit. Elsewhere, Broomfield interviews a bizarre musician and pornographic performance artist named El Duce who claims that Love offered him $50,000 to "whack" her husband.

One can see precisely why Broomfield came to hate Courtney Love, even as he professes not to believe theories that she killed her husband. On the very eve of this year's Sundance Film Festival, Love succeeded in getting the festival to withdraw Kurt and Courtney from the competition by threatening a lawsuit. And Broomfield documents the death threats Love made against writer Lynn Hirschberg after Hirschberg's unflattering article on the singer/actress appeared in Vanity Fair.

But even if Broomfield's cause ultimately became the disparaging of Courtney Love, his approach needed much more subtlety. He intrudes far too much in his interviews, and his questions are much too leading. Often, he doesn't follow up when he should. El Duce claims to know who killed Cobain, but Broomfield neglects to ask him the person's identity. Broomfield does several interviews with Cobain's seemingly loving Aunt Mary but fails to ask why she didn't take him in when a psychologically fragile, teenage Cobain had to find shelter at a teacher's house and even under bridges.

In the end, nothing can excuse Broomfield's high-handed attempt to ambush Love at an ACLU banquet over her treatment of journalists. That accomplishes nothing more than making the filmmaker look petulant and unprofessional. Instead, he should have asked ACLU officials why they thought someone like Love was an appropriate spokesperson for their organization. And he definitely should have talked with someone like Milos Forman, who directed Love's acclaimed performance in The People vs. Larry Flynt. Broomfield convinces me that Courtney Love is a very bad person, and that's exactly why I fear his failure to let her supporters on camera will result in others letting her off the hook.