When I asked some fellow audio producers what they imagine when they heard the term “docu-fiction,” most of them instinctively conjured up images of TV documentaries, the ones with those cheesy re-creation scenes. One person envisioned slow motion videos of faux Roman soldiers marching through battlefields. Another pictured a crime documentary with distasteful reconstructions and dark blue color grading, just so you really know the scene is from the past.

Rich and imaginative examples of audio docu-fiction do exist. With the right perspective, the spectrum of docu-fiction is vast. In fact, many “straight,” factual audio documentaries contain some elements of fiction, whether their makers realize it or not — from using foley to recreate a scene, to interviews that rely on one person’s inevitably flawed memory, to inadequately fact-checked stories that end up being untrue (welcome to the docu-fiction canon, Caliphate).

I’m drawn to docu-fiction techniques, both in my own work and in my listening appetite. As I curated the “Fact/Fiction” program for In the Dark, a spectrum of docu-fiction emerged, from pieces that were mainly documentary with short elements of re-creation to others that were mainly fiction with only nods to documentary elements or forms. I’m sharing those types of audio docu-fiction I’ve identified so far in the hope that it will encourage some future play for documentary-makers who have not yet crossed the fiction threshold.

Re-creation

Re-creation uses actors or the subjects themselves to recreate real interactions. It can be used to add sonic texture and emotion where there is no existing tape.

A lot of work from Kaitlin Prest and The Heart involves re-creation, for example the “Inheritance” episode from their No series. Prest introduces her friend Jay, splicing together recordings of them hanging out. After a few minutes, she pulls back the curtain, revealing that Jay is played by an actor, even including the tape where she’s preparing that actor for the scenes. She tells the audience, “I built this scene so that it sounds as close to the way that I remember it as possible,” while recognizing that re-creation ultimately relies on one person’s memory and interpretation, a theme that continues throughout the series.

Another great example is Megan Tan’s “How Do I Love Someone?” from the LAist series Wild. The episode is dubbed “fiction meets non-fiction romantic comedy.” Megan tells the story of the build-up and breakdown of a relationship during the pandemic, using re-creations of her dates. She doesn’t explicitly flag that it’s an actor, and the performance is so good that it took me a while to realize. All in all, it’s a powerful story, with really effective use of re-creation.

Finally, there’s ROW-cub from Neena Pathak, which is a fictionalized re-creation of a difficult conversation Neena had with her grandmother, using herself and her grandmother as the “actors.” 

Blended Actuality

This is my own coinage for work that incorporates real-life elements such as interviews and then uses those as inspiration for more playful fictional elements.

Charles Parker’s The Radio Ballads is a historic example of blended actuality. Charles was a BBC Radio producer who created eight radio features between 1958 and 1964, now known as The Radio Ballads, that were considered revolutionary by some of his fellow producers at the time for their inclusion of the voices of working class people across the UK (although Kalli Anderson recently informed me that Charles’s BBC colleague Olive Shapley had already been producing radio work including the voices of working-class Northerners since the 1930s). Parker recorded “actuality” (as he called it) by interviewing people about their lives and jobs, and then musicians Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger used those interviews as a springboard to compose folk songs and instrumental music. The end result combined the real recordings with the musical interludes, creating a beautiful weaving that over sixty years later still feels like a novel concept.

I employ this “blended actuality” technique in my own work. The first documentary I ever made, “The Sound Collector,” dealt with a poem I thought my sister wrote about our late mother. After we realized that she wasn’t the author, I created a fictional ending to satisfy both the piece and my disappointment. Another work of mine, “Email Santa” begins as a documentary about a real man who created a bot of Santa, and then morphs into a more fictional story world.

Recontextualisation 

Recontextualisation is what I call audio work that brings elements of existing tape into a new context.

A brilliant example is Rachel Matlow’s “Dead Mum Talking,” where Rachel recorded their Mum, Elaine, during the last seven weeks of her life. After Elaine’s death, Rachel was able to use those recordings to talk to their mother one final time. It’s both clever and quietly heartbreaking.

Chris Attaway’s “The View” uses similar techniques, although it’s arguably rooted more within fiction and less in archive. It came from a prompt set by the Telling Stories podcast, where they invited makers to create a short piece that moves through time and space. Chris interviews his future self.

A final and still different example of archival splicing is Everything, Nothing, Harvey Keitel. Producer Pejk Malinovski is trying to relax in a yoga class when he spots the actor Harvey Keitel, famous for his “tough guy” characters. Pejk’s attempts at meditative thoughts are intruded by lines from Harvey’s films, creating a surreal sequence of events.

Improvisation / Drama Techniques

This is a category inspired by the work and practice of Christina Hardinge. Christina creates powerful audio documentary work using drama and therapy techniques, helping her participants (a term she prefers over contributor) to process their trauma. 

For example, her first audio piece, “Alec Anoynmous”, in which her participant creates a character for her mother’s alcoholism, Alec, and describes her relationship with him. This externalization allows the participant to be more open, creating a layer of objectivity. 

On the surface, it’s a clever trick which provides a good structure and story; but, as with all of Christina’s work, it’s clear that this is not simply a technique for the listener’s entertainment. Christina spends several days with her participants, collaboratively crafting the characters through a series of facilitated workshops, some recorded and some not. The process, informed by her training as a counselor, is intended to help the subject of her stories, rather than harm.

Fiction Based on Truth

Now on our spectrum, we cross over from documentary that uses fiction techniques to fiction that uses elements of documentary. Arguably all fiction comes from a place of truth, but some fiction is more truthful than others.

My favorite example is Sharon Mashihi’s Appearances series for The Heart. It’s based on Sharon’s experiences of her Iranian-American family. Sharon voices the main character, Melanie, and she admits in the prologue that she isn’t sure exactly where Melanie starts and she ends. According to her, the series is more true than it is fiction, around a 6.5/10. The fictionalized elements allow Sharon to protect the privacy of her family, but it also allows her to freely interpret her relationships; she recognizes that she’s too close to her “characters” to have fair and true perceptions of them. Appearances brings up interesting questions on truth and perspective. 

As the series continues, the line between fact and fiction blurs further, including a moment where Melanie and Sharon speak to each other in a manic, fourth-wall shattering sequence.

Mockumentary / “Anticipatory Documentary”

The mockumentary, a term popularized by TV sitcoms like The Office or Parks and Recreation, is a fictional show in the style of a documentary.

One of my favorite pieces of mockumentary (or “anticipatory documentary”, as the author prefers to call it) is Gregory Whitehead’s “Mind Body Soul.”  It’s a hilarious, faux-interview with a performance artist whose art involves swallowing the Oxford English Dictionary, Gray's Anatomy, and the King James Bible. The acting is so good that it could be real, with the ridiculousness of the scenario being the only giveaway.

Another clever mockumentary of sorts is Love + Radio’s “A Girl of Ivory”. In this case (spoiler alert) there is a distinct plot twist where the documentary is revealed to be fiction. I won’t give anything more away…

Finally, I couldn’t speak about docu-fiction without including Everything is Alive. It’s an interview show in which all of the subjects are inanimate objects, and it’s a clever, funny and often poignant series. Each episode also includes snippets of real interviews related to the subject. My favourite episode is “Louis, Can of Cola.”

There are so many ways to add fictional elements into documentary, or vice versa. Fiction-curious documentary makers don’t have to jump right into elaborate re-creation and world-building. Introducing even small elements of fiction has the potential to add sonic texture, fix structural holes, or help protect the identities and privacy of our documentary participants. Also, it can be a lot of fun.