About twice a year I take out Clash On Broadway and listen to it from start to finish. Since Joe Strummer’s death in 2002 at the age of 50, it’s often a bittersweet experience. On Wednesday night I saw Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten at the IFC Film Center and wholeheartedly recommend this engaging biopic.

Directed by Julien Temple, the film investigates Strummer’s complicated life, from his days trotting around the world with his diplomat father to a rough experience at an English boarding school to a failed attempt at life as an artist. Over two hours, Temple presents personal interviews he conducted with his friend and finds many of the people who knew Strummer when he was busking around London and leading a fledgling band of squatters called the 101ers. Though he said he was a man of the people, Strummer (born John Mellor) wasn’t always good to those who were closest to him. When Strummer was introduced to his future Clash bandmates, he turned his back on his best friends, many of whom still bear the psychic pain caused by this complex ramble rouser.

Following the success and fury of the Sex Pistols, The Clash never envisioned they’d become one of the biggest (and most important) bands of all-time. Through a mix of sight and sound, Temple immaculately details the band’s rise and tragic demise and how it ripped apart Strummer, who desperately wanted to move on with his career but kept sabotaging himself in the process.

Where Don Lett’s notable documentary Westway to the World didn’t tell the story of Strummer’s post-Clash life (which saw him dabble in film projects and mostly wallow in various stages of self-pity), Temple copiously fills in the gaps with anecdotes told around campfires (Strummer was big on them). The Clash’s Mick Jones and Topper Headon talk honestly about Strummer, and he’s praised by notable fans such as Flea, Bono, Johnny Depp, John Cusak and Jim Jarmusch.

Some things in the film don’t add up, such as the absence of Clash bassist Paul Simonon and the cause of Strummer’s death—apparently from a congenital heart condition—in 2002. In the end, though, we’re presented with the portrait of an icon and all of his fascinating imperfections.