Picasso and Braque Go To The Movies
Picasso and Braque Go To The Movies
Directed by Arne
Glimcher
At Cinema Village
Runtime: 62 min.
Every time someone asks if a
new movie is going to be a hit, it’s a blow against civilization.
Director Arne Glimcher enlists Martin Scorsese’s help in the almost-lost
cause of reminding people that film is an art form in the new
documentary Picasso and Braque Go To the Movies. As
Bow-Down-To-Hollywood season gets underway, this is the perfect time for
cultural reflection—to pull back from the heedless pop frenzy of
sequels and grosses and 3-D. Our culture needs to be reminded that
movies are an art form, and this Glimcher-Scorsese doc traces its roots
to the early 20th-century cinematic discoveries that paralleled
modernist developments in paintings—especially those of Pablo Picasso
and George Braque.
The
names Picasso and Braque probably mean nothing to Fincherheads, Cameron
morons and Chris Nolanknowitalls—that’s because those filmmakers give
little evidence of how the two-dimensional form can become kinetic,
evoking mystery and spirituality. The first film-art findings such as
early special effects of France’s Méliès brothers and then the
Surrealists, created the basic cinematic spectacle that today’s
“immersive 3-D” only superficially surpasses. The Picasso-Braque
connection shows the unembarrassed impulse to study vision and
philosophy through art—not trite, childish, “Lookit!” exploitation.
Glimcher focuses on the
moment artists and the public all appreciated “the chance to relive
time and chance to monkey with it”—as Robert Whitman points out. As the
digital era progresses, this knowledge—and its thrill—are forgotten.
Only the movies and paintings from this era—what Natasha Staller
identifies as “the enabling environment of 1900 Paris”—preserve the
thrill. A visit to the Gagosian Gallery’s current show of late Monet
also contains this thrill; Monet’s painting are more stirring than the
fantasy world of Avatar’s Pandora.
In addition to Scorsese, several artists,
scholars and historians also testify to cinema-painting kinship: Eric
Fishcl, Julian Schnabel, Chuck Close, Coosje Van Bruggen, Tom Gunning
and others reveal the conceptual foundations of painting that led to the
deus ex machina of cinema. As Scorsese romanticizes: “A machine
that creates something ephemeral. You’re [watching] a dream.” While
covering the 1907-1914 period of Braque and Picasso’s experiments,
Glimcher fails to mention of D.W. Griffith who, in every way, was
Picasso’s contemporary. Despite that error, I hereby nominated
Glimcher’s film for the National Society of Film Critics’ Best
Non-Fiction Prize.

