Pop Star on Ice (SF DocFest, Oct. 25, 28) is a startlingly intimate examination of a brilliant and dashingly handsome young queer athlete who just may be on the verge of winning Olympic gold. We behold our young hero in a series of coy poses. The camera deconstructs his partially nude torso: we glimpse an unshaven face topped by an unruly mop of dark hair; are we looking at a mock fashion show, or a mug shot? More quick cuts: a stiff nipple, a body so skinny you start to count the ribs, a pair of battered feet caught in a dancer's pose. Is this a young Russian emigre dancer we see before us, a pretentious porn star, or a featherweight boxer making weight?

The beauty of David Barba and James Pellerito's full-length film portrait of champion US figure skater Johnny Weir is that even when you think you know who he is – whether bratty celebrity heading for a crash landing on page 6 of the New York Post, or sensitive and self-aware American kid fulfilling an improbable dream from the heart of Amish country – the next frame will present yet another contradiction.

As reported by Johnny himself in a series of goofy fake accents, the kid is no mere skater.

"He doesn't skate like a man, he doesn't skate like a woman, but he doesn't skate like a man. There's no middle ground, you either love him or hate him. Are his eyelashes fake? Johnny Weir has a tremendous amount of talent, but you can't win on talent alone. I respect that he's still going after a wall of crap fell on him – and he's gotten death threats! How crazy is that!"

Pop Star on Ice veers from the campy style of Party Monster, to the deconstruction of its subject as in an Errol Morris doc, to the trolling-for-controversy engagement of HBO's Real Sports. It's strange, but in a good way, to meet our star taking a bubble bath, sporting a silly blonde wig and speaking in a cartoonish Russian accent. Sharing the tub is Johnny's best friend, sidekick and sort-of platonic boyfriend Paris Childers. The point here is that while Johnny never exactly comes out, he is so naturally out that it seems almost absurd even to bring up the subject.

Filmmakers Barba and Pellerito explained that they sought to create a scene where Johnny would pretend to interview Childers about what a weirdo Johnny is perceived to be by fans and foes alike. The skit quickly evolved into two prank-prone boys sharing a tub full of bubbles.

"Their relationship, at times, can be like 13-year-old girls," said Barba. "They just do stuff that only 13-year-old girls can do together: they do a little fashion shoot, they pretend they're on the runway together."

Prima ballerina

Later in the film, Johnny is rather viciously attacked for his sexual ambiguity, and for the ballet-like nature of his shorts program Swan Lake, by waspish TV analyst Mark Lund.

"I'm sorry I can't wrap my head around how overly out he is without saying he's out," Lund says, "and I'm sorry I don't think he's representative of the community I want to be a part of! I don't need to see a prima ballerina on the ice!"

Typically, Johnny's reply, lying back like a cat taking a nap on a couch, is forthright but not entirely forthcoming. "What I do in my bedroom and who I go to a movie with, who I go out to dinner with, as a date, that's personal. I don't think anyone needs to know if I'm sleeping with Sienna Miller or Orlando Bloom."

In our interview, Pellerito explained that neither they nor Johnny had any preconceived strategy to orchestrate his coming out on film. "Skating is unusual because it is a judged sport, so the kids competing are under a whole different level of scrutiny, because there are judges who make the decision about who wins the competition. The second thing is that Johnny is totally comfortable with himself: he's not in, he's not out, he just is. Deal with it. It was never on our agenda working with him, it just kind of evolved as things happened. I think that Johnny is so articulate on the subject that he gave his answer, and that's what we showed."

Barba added, "Figure skating tends to be a sport mainly for young ladies – those are the stars, they are meant to be feminine and beautiful, and they are. To differentiate themselves, the men have to be athletic and masculine. What we love about Johnny is that he defies categorization. He's willing to be like a young David Bowie and blur those gender lines. And why is an arm movement considered feminine, and why is a particular jump considered masculine? 'Why can't I just be me?'"

So PSOI, while never blowing the door off Johnny's closet, gives us the picture of this waif-like young man, and the wild ride he's been on since first practicing his craft by skating across a cornfield on his parents' Lancaster County, Penn. farm. Fast-tracked and mothered by his ex-skater coach Priscilla Hill, Johnny starts notching big competitions midway through his teens, then wins a string of three US nationals.

Combining Johnny's own remarkably introspective narration with an impeccably constructed time-line that is a crash course in the ABCs of figure skating, the doc implicitly uses Johnny's career as a template for future queer athletic barrier-breakers. Would Johnny's crying unashamedly at big competitions, quasi-bitchy but insightful asides, or flamboyant fashion sense (black is definitely his color) be useful to a gay boy or girl trying to make it in a major-league team sport?

The big drama of the piece is Johnny's divorce from his coach, replacing Hill with a team of Russians for an important comeback moment. Johnny's world is largely straight female-centric: would he have been better served by a taste of male mentoring? Is there a Zen master skating coach who could get our boy some Olympic gold?

Like their subject, the all-American Russian kid Johnny Weir, filmmakers David Barba and James Pellerito come from eclectic backgrounds. Barba, born in Monterey, Mexico to a Mexican dad and a Scottish mom ("so if I don't look Mexican, it's my mother's fault"), met film partner James Pellerito in the film department at Columbia University. Pellerito was born near Venice, Italy ("my parents are American, that's why I speak with a Midwestern accent.")

Pellerito claims to be "pansexual," while Barba says he doesn't want his personal identity to interfere with representing the film. Both men look forward to following Weir's attempt to reach the 2010 Winter Olympics in an eight-part series set to air in January on The Sundance Channel.