There are those films that you watch and, as soon as your done crying, perhaps slobbering, and catching your breath again, you vow never to watch that film ever again...even though it's one of the best you've ever seen and want to recommend it to everyone you see on the street.

That's how I feel about Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father. The documentary takes a bit of explaining and is somewhat complex, as most truly great documentaries are.

Dear Zachary was made by filmmaker Kurt Kuenne as a way for Zachary, a relative newborn, to get to know his father in the words of those who loved him the most. Zachary's father, Andrew, was killed in 2001, before he was born. Andrew was killed by his former lover, Shirley, who also happens to be Zachary's mother. So, in order for Zachary to one day know his father, Kuenne interviews anyone he could find who knew Andrew, starting from his childhood and ending with the morning that he died.

The film then turns into a chronicle of the legal battle Andrew's parents, Zachary's grandparents, enter to try to not only get Shirley convicted of the murder (she got away initially on technicalities and shoddy prosecution, in the eyes of everyone in the documentary, and fled to Canada), but to win full custody of Zachary.

Kuenne takes all of the interviews that he has culled and uses all of his filmmaking experience to give the audience a gut-punch of emotion. Dear Zachary will have you feeling a gigantic range of emotions: wishing you had known Andrew Bagby when he was alive, such a warm and funny soul; straining from laughter at the stories that are told about Andrew; wanting to save Zachary from his less-than-stable mother; sympathy for Zachary's grandparents at having to deal with the tragic death of their son and then the battle to have a piece of him with them.

Dear Zachary is also so different from other documentaries because not only is Kuenne a great documentarian, but he was also Andrew's best friend. He didn't read about the story in some newspaper and decide to make a film about it. For Kuenne, Dear Zachary is truly a passion project, which shows in every frame of film and second of cold, tragic narration.

Like I said, Dear Zachary hurts. It hurts bad. It hurts like few movies do. But, it's a good hurt. It's a hurt that you will want to tell others about and give them the DVD and warn them that, even though it's heartbreaking, you will be so moved and touched and somewhat lifted by the entire package that they should watch it anyway.

This week, Dear Zachary came out on DVD and I'm really tempted to buy it. But, I feel, whether I buy it or not, everyone should at least put it in their Netflix queue (it is also available via Netflix's Instant Viewing streaming) and be ready to be truly and deeply moved.