Featured Film: My Kid Could Paint That

A few years back, while looking to find some television programming suitable for passing the hour or two before sleep, I paused at a film called "Starman." According to the info screen afforded by digital television technology, it starred Jeff Bridges and concerned a man fallen from space who assumes the likeness of the recently deceased husband of a very lonely widow. Romance ensues. I think to myself, "This movie will either be fantastic, or an absolute train-wreck." Turns out I wasn't willing to wager the remains of my evening finding out, and so I'll likely never find out which. (Though a brief googling suggests it lies somewhere in the middle.) Not too long after, I happened across Roger Ebert's famous quote: "It's not what a movie is about, it's how it is about it." And I liked that. That pretty much summed up my feelings on Starman's potential merit. It's like they always say, a love story between man and alien alone does not a good movie make. While there's something to be said for an intriguing synopsis or a clever conceit, it's as often as not a red herring, one which no more guarantees a good movie than a bottle of your preferred varietal promises a decent glass. It's what you do with the grape that really matters.

Seldom is this cinematic bait-and-switch more tempting than in the documentary feature. I've only recently learned to resist the lure at the end of a long line of talking heads singing the praises of their all-time-favorite-for-the-moment songwriter, with no more truths revealed than that artist in question has some famous friends. Take a movie like "The Devil's Playground," which chronicles the period of time in which Amish teens are free to sample the various vices of the outside world. The subject is undeniably fascinating. The film, sadly, is uninspired and ultimately unsatisfying (in my opinion). On the other hand, you have "The King of Kong" This is a movie about guys playing Donkey Kong. Competitive Donkey Kong. Vying for the top score on a classic arcade fansite. And it was just about the most suspenseful and engaging movie I saw in 2008.

While I've always found the old saw about the relative strangeness of truth and fiction to be a bit suspect (Have you watched Matthew Barney's Cremaster cycle? I've never seen truth that strange.), there is certainly an added thrill in knowing that these are real people. This really happened. It's not just 'Based on a true story.' It is that story. Director Amir Bar-Lev's "My Kid Could Paint That" is one of those rare documentary delights whose premise not only follows through on its promise, but wherein the story gradually takes on a life of its own in ways that could be no more planned by the filmmaker than predicted by the audience. Ostensibly recounting the story of Marla Olmstead, a four year old girl whose abstract paintings sell for many thousands of dollars, Bar-Lev sets out to explore the intrinsic value of art, abstract or otherwise, through the lens of our culture's fascination with child prodigy. While these questions are indeed addressed, many more soon emerge as the true authorship of the paintings comes into question. In the end, the director finds himself unexpectedly emerging as a central character as the film begins folding in on itself like a Charlie Kaufman movie, and the making of film itself becomes interwoven into its own examination of ethics and exploitation, of authenticity and intentionality. Bar-Lev emerges with both a suspenseful whodunit and a thoughtful meditation on art. The only thing missing is an alien love affair.

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