SHARON — The last time brothers Bob and Gary Golub saw each other, Bob Golub was driving down a Sharon alley when a hooded figure gave him a less-then-flattering hand gesture.

“He looked like death,” Bob Golub, a comedian and actor, recalled of his brother, the hooded figure. He wondered whether that was the last time he would ever see him.

“I was hiding from the cops,” Gary Golub said of his attire and his alley crawling.

The police eventually found him and his history of drug abuse and theft landed him in prison for 21 months.

In town for a brief stay this week, Bob, of Los Angeles, learned Gary had gotten out of prison, and had bought a house in Sharon. After a short telephone conversation with Gary, and directions from their sister, Barb Develli, he drove up the street.

“Where do the Golub’s live?” he yelled at a young man sitting on a porch.

“Right here,” said Gary’s son, Cory.

Bob does a double take. It’s been three years since he saw the lad, who looked like he had spent most of those three years in the weight room.

Bob grabs a digital movie camera and goes looking for his brother.

Bob has been filming a movie about his family, especially as they relate to their father, Donald Sr., known to most as “Dodo,” and growing up in Sharon.

The film is just about done, but Bob is spending a few days with a borrowed camera filming sites in town to illustrate the Shenango Valley, and interviewing people who knew Dodo or could explain life in the area.

Bob, one of eight kids, spots Gary in the kitchen, changing clothes after coming home from work. With few pleasantries, the brothers find a spot in the back yard to film the interview. Gary was in prison when Bob shot the bulk of the film last summer, so getting Gary on film adds a new wrinkle to the story, by way of confirming and contradicting what others have said.

Bob had been coached by the editor of his film, Brad Mays, to soften up Gary with questions about his wife and kids and what life has been like since he got out of jail. But, Bob launches right into a story that seems to be central to the film.

As Bob has heard it, Gary was in a crack house when he learned that Dodo had died, and finished smoking the crack he had before he left.

Not true, Gary says. He was in Georgia’s Fulton County Jail when he found out their father had died, he said.

It has to be true, Bob responded. Maybe it was when their mother, Eleanor, died, Gary supposed.

While some family arguments have prompted fist fights in the past, this wasn’t one of them. There was no animosity in their disagreement.

Unsure how to handle the two sides of the story in the film, Bob asked Gary to tell him the story as if it did happen. Gary complied, but Bob was unimpressed with Gary’s acting.

“Can you say it like it happened?” Bob said.

“It didn’t happen,” Gary stood fast.

Bob moved onto another topic that he expected to be inflammatory: that Gary stole from their father when Dodo was dying of cancer. Gary simply admitted it, and said it was a byproduct of his addiction to crack cocaine.

“When you’re on drugs, you don’t care,” he said, noting that his only fear is of addiction.

Bob, 49, asked his brother when he started drinking alcohol and doing drugs. Eleven or 12, Gary, now 39, said.

“Where did you get your first pot?” Bob asked.

“From you,” Gary said. “I stole it from you.”

Bob, who served prison time for pot possession, brings up a topic that infuses his life: his father’s inability to tell his kids that he loved them.

“He wasn’t a huggable type of guy where you could tell him that you loved him,” Gary said. “We gave tough love. We knew he loved us unconditionally.”

Dodo’s moods ran hot or cold, depending on the fortunes of the Pittsburgh Steelers and Pirates.

“Sunday was our best day with dad,” Gary said, referring to the day the Steelers played most of their games. “He was happy if they won. If they lost, we didn’t come around. We realized he was miserable.”

When they watched sports together, they could actually hug, pat each other on the back and give high-fives, something that wasn’t done otherwise, Gary said.

Gary said Dodo probably wasn’t the greatest dad, but he doesn’t hold that against him or blame his father for the trouble he got into over the years.

“He taught me how to hustle,” Gary said. “He taught me how to make a living.”

Asked what he thought about Bob ending a two-year separation by filming him and asking him to probe his inner demons, Gary just shrugged.

Ms. Develli, of Sharpsville, explained that the dysfunctionality of the family does not preclude affection.

“We love each other,” she said. “We’re there for each other.”