This documentary by Amir Bar-Lev looks at a four-year-old girl who is able to paint amazingly fine abstract art. It then examines the genre and tries to address its validity, as many people feel it looks like barely controlled chaos that even the worst artist in the world could paint.
Although this seems like a straightforward idea, the film soon veers off course and asks not whether such art is worthy, but is it possible that the little girl in question could actually paint what she paints. Eventually it becomes a detective story followed by hatchet pieces in the media and accusations of fraud.
A beguiling, one-sided piece by the TV program 60 Minutes becomes the crux of the story. In it, the program does not even try to celebrate the fact that this girl does what she does; instead, it immediately calls into question whether she could do it at all, and effectively destroys any hope that people would believe her family. After the show aired, the family's reputation was virtually ruined. And Bar-Lev admits that he wanted to call them "liars." All of this is unfortunate because we see no evidence of fraud. The only possible questionable scene is when the girl is painting while a hidden camera films her; we hear her father, off camera, telling her to "use more red."
I found this to be an extremely poor work, mainly because Bar-Lev inserts himself into the story. A documentary is supposed to be impartial, and let the viewer decide. But early on, Bar-Lev starts adding his own commentary and even has a few revolting, on-camera therapy sessions where he describes his thoughts and feelings about what's going on.
I saw nothing in what the parents said or the way they acted that would indicate any insincerity on their part. I kept on imagining if they were telling the truth, and they acted exactly that way. The mom often seems uncomfortable; I would, too, if my four-year-old was the subject of all this publicity. I'd be thinking, well, is this right? It seems right... but I'm still not totally convinced. But I'll keep going with it.
And why would they be lying? The implication is that the father was doing all of the painting for his daughter. But we see his own pieces and they're nowhere near the same level as his daughter's (nor the same style). And if indeed he were capable of painting that well, why would he not tout them under his own name? It doesn't make any sense.
The darkest moment in this whole mess is in the outtakes, when Bar-Lev describes a dream in which he's listening to the girl's parents having sex, which is followed by a sniper shooting him. Bar-Lev even obliges us with the sound of a shotgun blast.
Excuse me? We're supposed to be watching a documentary about a four-year-old art prodigy, not listening to the filmmaker's sexual fantasies about her parents. Imagining what a little girl's parents do in their bedroom after they've been kind and gracious enough to invite you into their home, furnishing us with the sound of a murder, and then putting it all into your movie, is sick--and successfully ventures into the world of megalomania.
At the end of the movie, we hear about other "hidden camera" painting sessions that the parents say prove that she was doing the work herself, but curiously Bar-Lev does not show them.
When this film was shown at Sundance, the girl's parents asked for a statement to be read in absentia before the screening. They stated that they were "heartbroken" by the editing and creative choices Bar-Lev made in putting it all together, and for the way he portrayed them.
I don't blame them. Bar-Lev ostensibly wanted to examine the world of modern art, but instead he did his best to destroy a family, all the while portraying himself as innocent and fair. I doubt they will be inviting him back into their home anytime soon; I would not want him in my home, either. In making this movie, he cared more about himself than anybody or anything else.
Although this seems like a straightforward idea, the film soon veers off course and asks not whether such art is worthy, but is it possible that the little girl in question could actually paint what she paints. Eventually it becomes a detective story followed by hatchet pieces in the media and accusations of fraud.
A beguiling, one-sided piece by the TV program 60 Minutes becomes the crux of the story. In it, the program does not even try to celebrate the fact that this girl does what she does; instead, it immediately calls into question whether she could do it at all, and effectively destroys any hope that people would believe her family. After the show aired, the family's reputation was virtually ruined. And Bar-Lev admits that he wanted to call them "liars." All of this is unfortunate because we see no evidence of fraud. The only possible questionable scene is when the girl is painting while a hidden camera films her; we hear her father, off camera, telling her to "use more red."
I found this to be an extremely poor work, mainly because Bar-Lev inserts himself into the story. A documentary is supposed to be impartial, and let the viewer decide. But early on, Bar-Lev starts adding his own commentary and even has a few revolting, on-camera therapy sessions where he describes his thoughts and feelings about what's going on.
I saw nothing in what the parents said or the way they acted that would indicate any insincerity on their part. I kept on imagining if they were telling the truth, and they acted exactly that way. The mom often seems uncomfortable; I would, too, if my four-year-old was the subject of all this publicity. I'd be thinking, well, is this right? It seems right... but I'm still not totally convinced. But I'll keep going with it.
And why would they be lying? The implication is that the father was doing all of the painting for his daughter. But we see his own pieces and they're nowhere near the same level as his daughter's (nor the same style). And if indeed he were capable of painting that well, why would he not tout them under his own name? It doesn't make any sense.
The darkest moment in this whole mess is in the outtakes, when Bar-Lev describes a dream in which he's listening to the girl's parents having sex, which is followed by a sniper shooting him. Bar-Lev even obliges us with the sound of a shotgun blast.
Excuse me? We're supposed to be watching a documentary about a four-year-old art prodigy, not listening to the filmmaker's sexual fantasies about her parents. Imagining what a little girl's parents do in their bedroom after they've been kind and gracious enough to invite you into their home, furnishing us with the sound of a murder, and then putting it all into your movie, is sick--and successfully ventures into the world of megalomania.
At the end of the movie, we hear about other "hidden camera" painting sessions that the parents say prove that she was doing the work herself, but curiously Bar-Lev does not show them.
When this film was shown at Sundance, the girl's parents asked for a statement to be read in absentia before the screening. They stated that they were "heartbroken" by the editing and creative choices Bar-Lev made in putting it all together, and for the way he portrayed them.
I don't blame them. Bar-Lev ostensibly wanted to examine the world of modern art, but instead he did his best to destroy a family, all the while portraying himself as innocent and fair. I doubt they will be inviting him back into their home anytime soon; I would not want him in my home, either. In making this movie, he cared more about himself than anybody or anything else.