There are hundreds maybe even thousands of films that have earned a reputation as “cult classics,” films like This Is Spinal Tap or Office Space with bizarre plots, memorable characters and endlessly quotable dialogue. Hardly a week goes by that a friend or a co-worker doesn’t quote from or drop a reference to a cult film. This is what makes them great.

Even though very few of them ever seem to be appreciated upon their initial release, cult films eventually find their audience, which in turn gives them a new life through word of mouth and personal obsession. One of the best examples of a true cult classic is filmmaker Jacob Young’s 1991 short documentary The Dancing Outlaw.

Produced for West Virginia Public Television as one of a 13-part series of short documentaries called “Different Drummer,” (which was awarded the American Film Institute’s best documentary award in 1993), Dancing Outlaw tells the story of Jesse “Jesco” White. Jesco, apart from being one of the most colorful characters ever immortalized on film, is also the keeper of a family tradition—mountain tap dancing, an obscure and frenetic style of Appalachian folk dancing. Jesco learned his mountain tap skills from his father D. Ray White, who is also featured in a documentary, Mike Seeger and Ruth Pershing’s 1989 film, Talking Feet. Young was on the lookout for a good subject when he came across Seeger and Pershing’s film and was immediately taken with D. Ray White’s bizarre and transcendental song and dance performance of the traditional folk song “Cindy.” When Young tried to seek out D. Ray to make a film of his own, he discovered he was too late—D. Ray had been murdered only a year before, leaving the task of upholding the mountain tap legacy to Jesco. And uphold it he did. From the first scene, we see Jesco joyfully dancing just about everywhere, whether it’s on train tracks or the plywood roof of his dog Duke’s house. With only the accompaniment of his friend Wattie Green or a ramshackle boombox to soundtrack his performances, Jesco, eyes closed and tap shoes on, wears the zen-like expression of a man who truly loves what he does. In a lot of documentary films—the Maysles Brother’s Grey Gardens for example—there is a fine line to be walked between the documentation and the exploitation of the subject. The Dancing Outlaw straddles that line the whole way through. When we meet Jesco’s wife Norma Jean (20 years his senior and barely intelligible) and watch his brothers and sister engaging in the art of “mudballin’ ” in the front yard of their trailer (we can only surmise that this means using their beat up cars and trucks to turn the whole piece of land into a mud pit), we are unsure how to react. In fact, it makes us more than a little uncomfortable. Jesco is only too happy to add to that discomfort, whether he is recounting tales of sniffing gas and paint and following them with a lighter fluid chaser, or discuss his wife beating and all around evil behavior. Norma Jean weighs in at one point on her husband’s three distinct personalities—the good “Jesse,” the bad “Jesco,” who she tells us is the “devil hisself,” and the King, none other than Elvis Presley, who Jesco is obsessed with and attempts to emulate in every aspect of his life.Though there are those who might view Dancing Outlaw as taking a condescending stance in the portrayal of its subject, in truth it’s an objective portrayal. Jesco, for all his apparent lunacy, seems very aware of everything he’s saying. And when we see him eight years later in Young’s sequel to the film, Dancing Outlaw II: Jesco Goes To Hollywood, he is perfectly happy with the reputation that the first film has earned him. Jesco was even invited to play a guest spot on an episode of the television show “Roseanne,” which he happily accepts (even if they do make him cover up his swastika tattoos).The Dancing Outlaw films are some of the most objective documentaries ever made, accurately depicting their subject, his family and their way of life—warts, mud and all. That’s what a good documentary should always do, even if it does make us want to take a shower afterwards. The Dancing Outlaw films are available for sale through Jacob Young’s www.dancingoutlaw.com Web site.

Chris Dortch is director of programming for the Documentary Channel and is co-director, along with Matthew Robison, of the forthcoming film, We Fun: Atlanta, Ga. Inside Out.