Combining David Bowie’s glamour with John Lennon’s politics, musician Aviv Geffen is Israel’s resident make-up-wearing rock star peace activist. Offering a highly personal look at a the very public figure, Aviv: Screwed Up Generation combines old home videos, footage from on-stage performances, and private interviews to track Geffen’s musical success and explain his complex personality.

“My generation is f****d up because of AIDS, Bill Gates, George Bush, techno and trance music, the wars, Al Queda et cetera,” Aviv explains to a reporter, complaining, “it’s not the ‘60s or the ‘70s dude, we are the garbage of the century…all I can do is sing out all my pain.” His hit song, Screwed up Geneartion won Aviv fans and established him as a major social critic in Israel.

Aviv: Screwed Up Generation follows Aviv through his development from an awkward little boy — neglected by parents who “would rather buy hash than toys” — to a nationally-celebrated musician. The bi-sexual, anti-macho rock star famously refused to serve in Israel’s military and sees himself as a modern hippie whose music is changing hearts and minds to promote peace. But with fame comes controversy: director Tomer Heymann offers a balanced portrayal of a man who’s been criticized by fans for becoming “commercialized” and being “a fake” while taking up his noble goal to better the world.

With a cigarette between his lips, gel in his long black hair, and dark eyes that always look melancholy, it’s no surprise that Aviv has won the hearts of teenage girls throughout Israel. “I love you!” they scream to him as he sings, their eyes welling-up with tears as they sing along to his ballads.

But it’s not just pubescent nymphets who adore his lyrics. While his sex appeal and melodies draw in die hard young fans, his leftist lyrics appeal to the politically minded. When Ariel Sharon was campaigning for office, he hoped to use one of Aviv’s song as his theme song. Moments before Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination, the late prime minister and Geffen hugged on stage after the two collaborated to organize a rally to support the Oslo process.

Given his upbringing, Geffen’s development into a singer/songwriter seems only natural. The son of writer and poet Yehonathan Geffen, Aviv was endowed with a gift for words early on. At six he started playing guitar, and at seven — full of angst toward his parents already — he wrote his first song, which is captured on home video. The documentary shows the young Aviv rocking on a porch swing, looking dwarfed by the large guitar in his lap, as he sings about his parents’ divorce with a squeaky but charming soprano voice. It would be years before his talent was recognized and appreciated. Until then, he spent his teenage years playing his songs for his grandmother in the basement, or serenading the home video camera with his mother.

Despite all the fame and praise Geffen enjoys, the film makes it clear that beneath his guise of confidence, the famous musician is full of insecurities and frustrations. In a crowded airport, an exhausted Aviv retreats from his fans into a bathroom where he collapses on the tile floor and admits that being a celebrity is “embarrassing” and “bums him out.” His makeup is as much a disguise as it is a creative expression. “I started wearing make up to separate myself from the audience,” Aviv confides, “I don’t dare look at them in the eyes.” Although he’s full of appreciation for his fans, he’s somewhat afraid of his listeners and feels very misunderstood.

Confronted with a fan has tattooed his face to her back, and another who screams, “You’re the king!” while he’s on stage, Geffen believes he’s “not a king but a clown, who needs to be loved all the time.”