The world we inhabit ain't so different from the one Phil Ochs railed against, which is probably part of the reason the folk singer hung himself at age 35, months after the end of the Vietnam conflict he so passionately opposed.

The world we inhabit ain't so different from the one Phil Ochs railed against, which is probably part of the reason the folk singer hung himself at age 35, months after the end of the Vietnam conflict he so passionately opposed.

Throughout the decade and a half prior, Ochs lived a compelling tale at the intersection of music and politics. Director Kenneth Bowser gives Ochs his due in "Phil Ochs: There But for Fortune," screening for just one week at Gateway Film Center.

Ochs grew up in Columbus and attended Ohio State, but Bowser breezes through those years in minutes, so don't hold your breath waiting to hear about his early gigs at Larry's or the campus paper he started when The Lantern wouldn't print his radical screeds.

Instead, "There But for Fortune" launches its proper narrative in Greenwich Village and tracks Ochs' rise through the folkie scene, his friendship and rivalry with Bob Dylan, his troubled family life and his eventual deterioration.

The movie's pulse is Ochs' egomaniacal quest to right society's wrongs, a quest that did him in when he pointed his righteous indignation inward.

Bowser keeps things lively with generous performance footage and patchwork oral history that follows Ochs from charming zealot to confused idealist, glorifying him but never glossing over his flaws.