Sketches Of Gehry

I don’t want to be particularly snarky about this one, though director and interviewer Sydney Pollack makes a rather tempting target. I like architecture and Gehry’s buildings can be staggering. LA’s Disney Music Hall is. Seattle’s EMP Museum isn’t. Billbao’s Guggenheim almost certainly is, though I’ve not seen it in person.

But this is a rather amateurish film. Pollack excuses himself to some degree – he’s not a documentary filmmaker, he’s not an expert on architecture, and he didn’t intend to appear in the film. And predictably those end up being three of the film’s biggest problems. Pollack tried to do the whole film himself on a handheld camera while also asking Gehry questions. When it was obvious he needed to pay more attention and needed cutaways (and there are points in the film that really need cutaways, but were obviously shot before he realized this), he brought in a second cameraman. That guy started shooting Pollack and Gehry together. Then the editor (who has edited many of Errol Morris’ films) thought the footage of Pollack and Gehry talking together was good. Finally, there are a few beautiful shots of Gehry’s buildings in good light, with their surroundings, and so on, but not enough. I’d guess that if Pollack had to make this film again he’d fix many of these problems. And the editor is right in that the relaxed nature between Pollack and Gehry is fun to watch, and Gehry is obviously at ease with him.

But I’ll compare this quickly to an other doc about a visual artist; William Eggleston. That film was wonderfully shot and made a real connection between the world we all live in, and the one the artist sees. Granted, Eggleston is nearly insane compared to the very normal Gehry. We don’t travel with Gehry on drunken benders or sit in a dark room singing old songs with him and his wife.

This is that kind of “down-to-earth” Malibu Colony attitude that Jack Lemmon used to talk about; celebrities for decades, millions to burn and this year’s Mercedes.

Perhaps the funniet thing in it was artist/director Julian Schnabel, who appeared in dark glases, a white bath robe, a brnady glass of something (too light for brandy) and a smoke. He looked like a wealthy version of the Dude from Big Lebowski, and it reminded me of Gary Oldman’s great part playing Schnabel, under Schnabel’s own direction, for his film Basquiat. There’s a lot left unsaid, and it’s quite a short film.

There is a very nice moment when Gehry laments not having been a painter, and we cut to some of the film’s best shots of Gehry’s buildings. But more of these were needed.