Film Review: “I Hate Myself. I Feel Crazy. A Comeback Story.”

William James Cornhoff’s "I Hate Myself. I Feel Crazy. A Comeback Story." is a courageous and deeply personal 40-minute documentary that takes the viewer inside one man’s struggle with grief, addiction, mental illness, and the long road to self-acceptance. It is, in essence, a filmed confession, raw, unguarded, and unpolished, but precisely in that honesty lies its power.

The film centers on William himself, sitting before the camera and recounting his life with disarming vulnerability. He opens up about the loss of his boyfriend, his descent into substance abuse, the pain of recovery, and the memories that shaped him: bullying, body image, family tension, and the labels that scarred him since childhood. The simplicity of the format, a talking head with minimal visual effects, underscores the authenticity of his testimony. When the emotion rises and the tears come, we don’t feel like we’re watching a performance; we’re witnessing a man finding his voice.

Cornhoff uses modest but effective visual flourishes, such as subtle overlays, eye reflections, and particularly striking glitch effects that feel like a moment of meeting the devil himself, a visual embodiment of inner torment and defiance. These moments break the stillness and translate emotional chaos into visual language. While some of the music choices feel intrusive or repetitive at times, they also mirror the turbulence of the subject’s inner world, the noise, confusion, and longing for quiet that often accompany recovery.

What makes this film resonate beyond its minimal production is the honesty of its storytelling. William speaks of being beaten as a child for being gay, of starving and binging in cycles of shame, of screaming to the heavens, “F*** you, God, I know you hate me.” He speaks without self-pity, but with the courage of someone determined to understand his own suffering. And then there are the glimmers of love: a loyal friend named Jenna who stood up for him when he couldn’t stand up for himself; a mother who, when her sons fought over William’s coming-out, declared, “We can either love him or lose him, and we’re going to love him.”

Moments like these give the film its heartbeat.

As an indie work, "I Hate Myself. I Feel Crazy. A Comeback Story." embraces imperfection as part of its truth. It’s not polished cinema, it’s lived experience. What some may see as rough edges, such as the simple setup, uneven sound, or unrefined transitions, are also what make it feel authentic. The film becomes not just a documentary, but a process of healing caught on camera.

By the end, what emerges is not despair but resilience. Cornhoff reclaims his pain, transforming it into testimony, a message to anyone who has felt broken, rejected, or lost: survival is possible, and self-love is the greatest comeback of all.

This is a brave, moving piece of storytelling, one that asks for empathy rather than admiration. It’s a film that may not comfort, but it connects. And that connection, raw and unfiltered, is precisely where its beauty lies.

Watch the film: