EXIT THROUGH THE GIFT SHOP

A Banksy Film.
Throw legos down on the floor of a nursery and two types of children will emerge: thinkers and doers. The thinkers pose with purpose – piecing mental masterpieces and creating the vision with precision. Thinkers care about how others perceive their work, since internally the work is the outpouring of the worker, a hint of self, desiring to be known. It plays upon the eternal to leave such a mark – a grasp on immortality, some might say.
For the doer, however, the project is one of accomplishment. Block towers are built to be torn down. The rubble is equal joy to the construct itself. It is in the doing and the done.In this documentary film entitled Exit Through the Gift Shop, artist Banksy shares much of the life of accidental artist Thierry Guetta. Banksy is a self-proclaimed, self-promoted, yet ironically self-effacing graffiti artist. He shouts art for art’s sake. I have always appreciated, in some rebellious way, well-placed graffiti.

And, though unfamiliar with his name until tonight, I recognized Banksy’s work immediately. Maybe that’s his true point: promoting ideals, not effort, propaganda through paint. His bitterness felt acutely, Banksy used mostly old footage from Guetta’s possessed “filmmaker” days before Guetta himself used what he learned, became a copycat street artist, and took the nom de plume: Mister Brainwash. Unbeknownst to world-renowned street artists such as Banksy and Shepard Fairey, they were training Guetta as master teachers would an apprentice.

As far as documentary films go, this entertains as though a Christopher Guest creation. The artist reveals his own absurdity without analytical reinterpretation. Where Banksy delights in educating the world through careful placement and purpose, so Guetta proves only to paint the tower just in time to see it crumble to the ground. And afterward, I felt a possessive impulse to go and tag a building myself, but it was getting a little late.

THE SOCIAL NETWORK


Smart. You know what I mean when I say smart. Witty, fast dialogue. Not the comical Gilmore-style, but honest, genius material. The writing matched the Zuckerberg character in true autobiographical fashion. Known, but a mystery. Our protagonist’s character is in question until the very end when Rashida Jones demystifies and encourages the hero. His foil, the likable front man, beside and against him the whole time, was perhaps my favorite character. Two scenes made the film for me: the entire opening sequence from argument through the tension-framing scored opening credits, and the race on the Thames – voiceless yet as elegant as a ballet and as telling as a novel.

The journey of Facebook, only just begun, is happening as we speak. It’s the equivalent of a modern day Neverending Story. Now Bastion’s story is online and we can click a quick change of status and then friend him. Just like that.

WALL STREET Money Never Sleeps

When I was in 5th grade, Lee Dumas, obviously a candidate for stronger & smarter than the average 5th grader, had already hit some sort of pubescent phase and had registered an all time low in vocal tones. But being bigger and louder, and redheaded to boot, only encouraged him to talk gleefully and incessantly. Talking got him in trouble, and in trouble meant missing a much needed recess. My mom used to say, “I think he’s misunderstood. His voice is lower and it carries. I like him.” “I like that Lee Dumas,” she’d repeat. I liked him too. So often I wondered what would become of him. I heard that he went to work on Wall Street – that he’d put that carrying voice to work.
Carrying voices or not, we all want to be heard, to be noticed. We all seek after dreams and success in some way or another. Stanislavski (famed for creating his now commonly used acting methods) called  this the “golden key,” a questioning in which actors ascertain what a character wants and therefore what moves them forward. This movie, directed by Oliver Stone, shows tragic individuals vying and gambling in view of their own golden keys. All gifted in business, but out for self…”for number one,” as they say.
Before we attempt to scrape the speck from Shia LeBouf’s eye, let’s consider his performance the most endearing and his ability to cry on cue confirmed. Wow – such waterworks.
The writing works, the cast is incredible, the filming meaningful, but the visual motifs are heavy-laden. The bubble metaphor waxes pretentious, not eye-opening. The characters we are meant to cry for and over (not to mention WITH) are not loveable -or even really likable. I wish that Stone had spent more time developing these characters and less panning over jewels, wine glasses, and skylines. Carrie Mulligan’s tormented daughter routine, for instance, sadly shows only one dimension as every close-up face shot portrays the one desire for a present father figure. She wanted this as a little girl and she wants it now. And the Father? THE Michael Douglas plays too wicked a Faustus to buy back his soul in the end. Brolin deals in and out, proving the formidable player of the big game. Perhaps, in the end, we are all a lot like that kid, Lee Dumas, fighting for attention and hoping to be noticed for our strengths and dreams as much as our weaknesses.
Unfortunately, this film drags and ebbs proving again the tide of the self-seeking and money-driven to be none other than LONELY. Shocker.