Esther Robinson knew little of her uncle, Danny Williams, beyond the fact that he disappeared in 1966. Seven years ago, through a series of coincidences, she learned that he'd been Andy Warhol's colleague and lover, and that he'd been an experimental filmmaker, a passion she shared.

She set out on an investigation that resulted in "A Walk Into the Sea: Danny Williams and the Warhol Factory," which offers a rare cinematic pleasure -- an artful documentary that explores the nature of questioning instead of proselytizing a dogmatic truth. The film's beauty emerges from the dedication of its creative team, including Minnesota natives Robinson, editor Shannon Kennedy and composer T. Griffin.

This weekend, "A Walk Into the Sea" comes to Walker Art Center, as does a screening -- with live musical accompaniment -- of Williams' haunting, lyrical chronicles of the life at the Factory that feature Warhol, Edie Sedgwick, Billy Name, the Velvet Underground and many others.

We spoke to Robinson, who will introduce her film.

Q What made you embark on your own film about your uncle's life and work?

A The obvious thing is that it's a great story. Beyond that, it was a reason to interview my grandmother, to ask all those questions you're not supposed to ask. My film is about that process of recognizing the gaps in your understanding of your own family history and trying to fill in those gaps. Most traditional documentaries are about telling you facts, but family histories are about disparate information that you try to cohere and make sense of. ... [Plus,] I had such an intense emotional connection to the actual films.

Q The interviews in the film tell different, often contradictory, stories. Did you feel your subjects were being straightforward?

A Well, the Warhol people are all icons. And people have a tendency to paste the past onto them. But these are people in the current sense, and they're grappling with their humanity and their mortality and legacy, and all these things are all wrapped up in how they remember. ... Imagine your 20s -- you're sexy, you'll never be more beautiful, never have more sense of possibility, more focus. And imagine if every single thing you did is ascribed to Andy Warhol -- the pressures are extraordinary. So sometimes [what] they remember doesn't match the material facts. It matches how those people felt in order to survive. I wouldn't wish being a Warhol Factory person on anybody.

movies