Blurred Lines: Inside the Art World

...because 30 mins was all I could take. Don't get me wrong; this is a very well-made documentary. Visuals are eye-catching, music is engaging, interviews are poignant, and the content is informative. It's the subject matter that's so damn depressing I literally had to shut this off and go play with my dog for an hour.

If you're an artist, I guarantee that this documentary (at least the first 30 mins, and the rest seems to be more of the same according to other reviewers) will make you either depressed or angry. Or both. Deprangry. Certainly frustrated & unmotivated if not creatively devastated. This documentary gives us a behind-the-scenes peek at how contemporary art has been perverted into a commercial freakshow. Without pause, we get a parade of self-important characters, curators, critics and kibitzers all worshipping the almighty art-dollar. Sure, we could have guessed this from the plot summary. But, like the plot summary of "Human Centipede", words can't prepare you for the ordeal you're about to endure.

Even if you're not an artist, you may find yourself philosophically sickened by the ringmasters who make gobs of money off of creativity, the only real human gift we have to offer the universe. Especially upsetting was the segment dedicated to (I forgot his name and wouldn't even bother to type it if I remembered) a shock artist with an ego as big as Mars, who when asked about his ego childishly fires back at the interviewer "no YOU have a big ego!", whose art consists of dead, decaying and dying animals under glass fetching millions of dollars from clueless celebrities who want to buy into a rising stock. He sits there with such a pompous air in his $50,000 suit patting himself on the back, like he is gaming the system which he is--at the expense of true art.

The one failure of this documentary is that it didn't have enough satirical humour to keep the viewer from sticking her head in the oven. There was one nicely used clip, from the Woody Allen film "Play It Again Sam" that injects the perfect dose of sarcastic comedy, and I wish there were more of those interludes. Maybe there are later in the documentary, but 30 mins is my tolerance for pain. Watch this documentary at your own risk. It is effective. It is painful. Keep your dog close at hand so you can stay sane.

Sarah Thornton wrote a book called Seven Days in the Art World, and this film pretty much follows the trajectory of that book. The film looks at the various players in the art world whom we don't normally think of as entities that are interrelated -- but of course they are: museums, galleries, collectors, auction houses, artists themselves. I've read Thornton's book -- she also appears in this film -- and I enjoyed both it and this film. Yes, certainly, there are things you may know (eg., much modern art is all about its value as capital), but the points made about such capital, pro and con, are played out on the screen without heavy disapprobation; the film merely points out things as they are and get you to think on them.

I found this documentary about the current state of the hyper-capitalized art world fairly worthwhile. Sure, i knew a lot of what was said but there were some eye-opening parts, such as the surprising number of people who appear to think that fine art should be regulated by the government. That just sounds like a recipe for disaster. Of course, the only reason why they are saying this is because the magnitude of money at stake invites shysters and con artists of all stripes and turns successful artists themselves into con artists of sorts. The argument is supposed to be that this pluto-oligarchic structure crushes the little guy, the artist without a gallery and with no hope of gaining any recognition.

That strikes me as a non sequitur. First of all, anyone currently famous began as someone completely unknown, so they had to be discovered within the system as well. In reality, genuine artists cannot be destroyed by even the daunting dynamics of the contemporary business of art. They will continue to paint in their ateliers (or no-bedroom shacks) and create what they feel compelled to create. Some of them will be discovered posthumously, and others not even then, but the value of what they produce is in no way compromised by the fact that they die in a state of poverty and relative anonymity. Art has always been like that. Remember Vincent van Gogh?

The last thing the world needs is some sort of ueber government committee deciding what can and cannot be done with fine art. Is it fair that Damien Hirst and Jeff Koons are filthy rich, while perhaps better artists, who are less savvy self-promoters and marketers, are ignored? Is it fair that some people enjoy ridiculously high salaries for throwing a ball through a hoop while others earn a pittance for flipping burgers at fast-food restaurants? This is the world in which we live. The lucky ones (are they not the true artists?) find a way to avoid thorough cooption by the system--by all means necessary. Others simply sell their souls. But it is not the government´s role to care for people´s souls.

Finally someone independent made a movie showing the true cruelty and "lie" of art market!

On paper this seems like a good idea for a documentary. Unfortunately it's truly a one shot pony.

Eighty five minutes drumming the same story into our heads -- art is about money.

Wow. Some revelation.

And who cares? If super rich elitists who voted for Obama want to spend absurd sums of money on this stuff, let em.

The movie is boring by the time to you get thru the opening credits