When a struggling (is there any other kind?) visual artist has a chance to confront the thief of her precious paintings, she does so in a strange, friendly approach of curiosity. Soon the two are meeting for tea and deep conversation. A film so seemingly plot driven is actually a stark documentary, one of those crazy miracles where the filmmaker is in the right place at the right time, and an enthralling story develops before his lens. Benjamin Ree captures their tale in gorgeous shots, unfettered dialogue, and stealthiness. Hard to believe that there wasn't any staging involved, as there is total absence of camera intrusions, or director interference.
"The Painter and the Thief" works on so many levels, but it is the startling relationship that develops between artist and her new found muse that is the heart of this fire. Obviously upset at her loss, Barbora Kysilkova quickly moves her emotions to dig deep into the psyche of the troubled Karl-Bertil, offering branches of support and friendship. He returns the favour, but struggles to shed his bad boy lifestyle, and lapses. Whether Barbora is truly offering up a humanitarian hand, or using the danger boy as artistic inspiration, or both, is an interesting question that looms throughout.
Each are enthralling characters, with definitely wildly divergent career paths, that have become entangled like wild weeds of infatuation. Its an enlightening look at how humans interact with each other, who we choose to interact with, what we are looking for, and why do we look in the first place? Deep down inside: are we, or are we not, good?
How can this possibly end well? There's only one way to find out.
"The Painter and the Thief" works on so many levels, but it is the startling relationship that develops between artist and her new found muse that is the heart of this fire. Obviously upset at her loss, Barbora Kysilkova quickly moves her emotions to dig deep into the psyche of the troubled Karl-Bertil, offering branches of support and friendship. He returns the favour, but struggles to shed his bad boy lifestyle, and lapses. Whether Barbora is truly offering up a humanitarian hand, or using the danger boy as artistic inspiration, or both, is an interesting question that looms throughout.
Each are enthralling characters, with definitely wildly divergent career paths, that have become entangled like wild weeds of infatuation. Its an enlightening look at how humans interact with each other, who we choose to interact with, what we are looking for, and why do we look in the first place? Deep down inside: are we, or are we not, good?
How can this possibly end well? There's only one way to find out.
- hipCRANK