Last fall, I was wasting time channel hoping when I stumbled onto an HBO Documentary Films title called Brillo Box (3¢ off). More than anything else, what immediately jumped to mind was, “Oh! Andy Warhol!” and after watching it for a few moments my suspicions were confirmed as this was indeed a film about Warhol and his famous artwork sculptures. But as the film was more than half over when I stumbled onto it, I decided to use my PVR’s feature to “view upcoming times for this title” to find a future airing which I set my PVR to record. And like so many things I record, I then promptly forgot about it.

Trailer for the 2016 HBO Documentary Films short documentary film, Brillo Box (3¢ off).

I'll be honest that I didn’t know anything about this film before I sat down to watch it. But after a quick Google search I learned from Wikipedia that Brillo Box (3¢ off) was a 2016 documentary short film written and directed by Lisanne Skyler. Specifically, her film was made to basically follow the provenance (the history of ownership) for the Warhol Brillo Box sculptures her family had owned.

Even if you’re not a huge fan of modern art or have never taken an art history course, you’ve nevertheless probably heard of Andy Warhol. Warhol was one of the major players in the pop art movement that swept the art world during the late 1950s into the 1960s. Pop art became attractive to emerging artists as it was new and marked a pushback to the kind of artwork that had been produced before it, such as work by American abstract expressionist artists like Jackson Pollock. Specifically, the movement was famous for appropriating and playing with imagery from popular culture such as advertising, comic books, packaging and other objects of ordinary or banal origins.

Popular, witty, sexy, glamorous - this short video provides an introduction to how pop art exploded onto the cultural scene in the early 1960s.

In viewing Brillo Box (3¢ off), I was looking forward to learning more about a more personal history behind what has become one of the pop art world’s most famous works.

Film still from the 2016 HBO Documentary film Brillo Box (3¢ off)

The film opens with a short segment that quickly introduces the audience to the themes of the film and its main players. A catchy score plays over imagery of Brillo metal scouring pads being produced and packaged on an automated factory production line. It then immediately cuts to an image of Andy Warhol, who Lisanne Skyler, the film’s narrator says in “…1964 shocked the artworld by making hundreds of replicas of supermarket cartons and presenting them as art. His most notorious were the Brillo Boxes (1964)” (Skyler).

Skyler then introduces the audience to her parents, Martin and Rita Skyler, who got engaged that same year and started to collect artwork. One of the first artworks starting with one of the Brillo Boxes. Her mother Rita gives some insight into why they acquired it, “It was the fact that it was so out of context and it was a new form of art. I loved it. I absolutely loved it” (Skyler). She also says how her Father didn’t hang onto the Brillo Box very long, choosing instead to trade it for a work by another artist “…and the Brillo Box left our living room and went on a journey of its own” (Skyler). The introductory segment then ends by moving 40 years later to show how “…the same yellow Brillo Box (that) my parents acquired for $1,000 went on to sell for over $3 million” at a Christie’s auction in 2010. The film then plays out this story in greater detail over the course of the next forty-five minutes by interviewing various players in the history of their Brillo Box.

The film is great in how it concisely presents both the story of the Brillo Box alongside the context in which it was created and alongside the context of the ever changing artworld and art market of the 1980s to the present. For example, terms like Appropriation are introduced and defined by various experts, such as Eric Shiner, the director of the Andy Warhol Museum, who explained how:

Appropriation is a term that we use in art history to talk about how an artist will borrow something from mainstream culture or from a book or from another artist or from something. How it differs from the term copy I think when you appropriate something you tend to change it in some way. Warhol by far and away was the biggest and most successful appropriation artist. And we have cease & desist letters from Campbell’s and Coca-Cola but they realized very quickly that these were the most talked about artworks in the entire country and they should back off. (Shiner)

It was also amazing how Skyler was able to trace the sculpture's impressive provenance, as it passed from the hands of prominent collectors such as the UK advertising executive Charles Saatchi to Robert Shapazian, the founding director of the Gagosian Gallery in LA, among others. Further, Skyler was able to track down and interview many people who knew the different owners of the piece over time. Each interviewer was able to add to the tapestry of the story being told, and reveal the importance of the piece to a number of its owners. It's nicely done and it helped keep me captivated as the film moved along at a quick, crisp and steady pace to its poignant conclusion.

Overall, Brillo Box (3¢ off) is a great, short introduction to not only the history and importance of Warhol and his work, but of the larger art world and art market as it's existed over the last sixty years.

Grade: A

Brillo Box. Dir. Lissane Skyler. Perf. Lissane Skyler, Rita Skyler. HBO Documentary Films.

2016. Documentary.

I recently revisited Ed Harris's Pollock, released in 2000, a dramatic biopic about the life of American abstract expressionist artist Jackson Pollock. In revisiting the film I was curious to see if the film had held up and whether it would have the same deep resonance for me as it did when I first viewed it almost 17 years ago in theatres on May 1, 2001.

The feature film trailer for the 2000 Sony Pictures Classics film "Pollock."

At the time of its release, Pollock was positively received by critics and is still “certified fresh” on the review aggregation website Rotten Tomatoes, with an overall critical score of 81%. The film’s actors, Ed Harris and Marcia Gay Harden would both be nominated for Academy Awards – Harris as best actor in a leading role for his portrayal of Jackson Pollock, and Harden as best actress in a supporting role for her portrayal of artist Lee Krasner, Pollock's supporter, manager, wife, and a significant artist in her own right. Harden would go on to win for her part in the film:

Nicolas Cage presenting Marcia Gay Harden with the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for her performance in "Pollock" at the 73rd Academy Awards in 2001.

Pollock was a passion project for Harris. And although Pollock was actor Ed Harris’s directorial debut, it was not the first biopic Harris had been involved in. As an actor, Harris had previously portrayed contemporary figures in films such as 1983’s The Right Stuff, 1995’s Nixon as well as 1995’s Apollo 13. As illustrated in Carol Strickland's 1993 New York Times article, The Race Is On to Portray Pollock, Pollock was one of a number of productions that were trying to make it to the big screen and would ultimately become the only one that made it to the big screen. In the DVD commentary for the film, Harris explained how he wanted the film to be "...not about cinematic tricks, (but) about the guy painting..." To that end, Harris explains how:

"...I really worked on my paintings from the late 1980s as I committed myself to wanting to play this guy. I had a studio built on a little part of my property and started experimenting... It’s got rhythm it’s got harmony, it’s got balance."

As a historical figure, Pollock would become known as one of the pioneers of American abstract expressionist art, a post-World War II art movement developed by artists working in New York City. The movement was significantly important as it helped establish New York as the center of the art world, displacing Paris which was still reeling from the impacts of World War II at the time. At the heart of abstract expressionism was an emphasis on the automatic, subconscious and emotional feeling that artists drew upon in the creation of their work.

Ultimately, Pollock would become renowned for the development of his drip style of painting, a process which critic Harold Rosenberg would define as being a form of action painting. It was "action" because Pollock as an artist used his entire body in the process of making his drip paintings. He would lay his canvases on the ground and stand above the canvas's surface, moving above, around and across it as he dripped, flicked and flung paint onto the the canvas. One of the strengths of the film is in illustrating the more quiet moments when Pollock painted, and Pollock's discovery and evolution of his drip process was nicely portrayed in this scene, one of the film's key moments:

Dripping!

In the DVD commentary for the film, director Ed Harris reveals how due to time and monetary constraints they chose to omit scenes that would have explored Pollock’s early life, being born and initially raised in Iowa before crisscrossing America as his Dad moved his family in pursuit of work. The film also ignores Pollock’s artistic training alongside his brother Charles Pollock under the tutelage of artists such as Thomas Hart Benton at the Art Students League of New York. Harris further justifies these omissions in the commentary stating that the film “…was much more of an emotional journey than a historical document.”

Instead, the film opens approximately ten years prior to Pollock’s own death, at a time when Pollock was living with his older brother Charles in New York City. The first scene opens showing an inebriated Pollock returning home late one night. The next morning his brother’s wife reveals that she’s pregnant and she strongly suggests that it’s time Pollock moved out on his own. When she leaves, the film reveals a wonderful unspoken tension between the brothers, as Charles is clearly filled with angst and frustration with his younger brother’s antics. It’s through scenes like this that the film really delves into the psychology behind Pollock, who wasn’t emotionally stable or even that much of a nice guy. Rather he was a deeply troubled individual – introverted and haunted by unspoken demons which he tried to suppress both with his art and his drink. As Harris explains in the commentary, “…he’s desperate, he’s not good on his own, Pollock never lived by himself, ever… his mother, Charles, his brother, Sandy and Lee. And when he did, obviously at the end, he was alive for two weeks (before) he was dead.”

During these early scenes the film also quickly introduces Lee Krasner, one of the most important people in Pollock’s life and they quickly develop an interesting relationship as she becomes his mother, muse, lover, wife, supporter, manager and confidant. But she’s not just subservient to Pollock, and the film doesn’t ignore the fact that she too was an accomplished artist of her own, as Pollock visits her in her studio apartment early on in their relationship and they later paint together and discuss each other’s work together. The film also takes time to explore how Krasner introduced Pollock to many of the key people who would help shape and influence Pollock’s career, from critic Clement Greenberg (Jeffrey Tambor) to art collector Peggy Guggenheim (Amy Madigan) as well as other New York artists Pollock spent time with, such as Willem de Kooning (Val Kilmer).

At times the film does seem to perpetuate several Pollock myths. In some scenes he seems to reject the more formal and philosophical discussions about the work he created, but from what I’ve learned about Pollock he did understand art, art history, and the discourse surrounding it. Instead, the film seems to want to present him as the stereotypical troubled artist - a man who simply creates for the sake of creating. This is illustrated in one early scene where he’s talking with Krasner about his latest work when he proclaims, “I am nature!” before totally rejecting any of Krasner’s justifications for the work by telling her “…why don’t you paint the fucking thing?” as he left her and walked out of the room.

Overall my impressions of the film haven’t changed since my initial viewing in 2001, which I expressed in a short review I wrote and posted to the epinions.com website which was popular at the time:

Sometimes one sees a film that really hits close to home, a film that really hits close to the soul, somewhere deep down inside. Tonight, for me, Pollock was that film. Ed Harris's new biopic has left me shaken and scared. During the screening I sat in awe at the beauty of the artwork and at the tragedy of the man. But what I perhaps found to be the most unsettling was how I saw it with a group of friends who seemed unaffected by the film, revealed with comments like: "…it was ok, well acted, but I didn't really like it." I cringed on the inside hearing it but simply said nothing as I drove us home.

To be honest, I don't know how to attack this critically. I loved the film for what it has done for me, which is made me really question who I am as a person and as an artist. I don't like talking about this openly, like Jackson Pollock himself, I never really talk about what really inspires me or what drives me, I just do it (not to put myself anywhere near his level of brilliance though). But Pollock isn't the first movie or work that's made me question where I am in life. Having recently read and studied Death of a Salesman, I became quite depressed over the idea that I could possibly end up like Biff, not knowing what I truly want in life, working hard to please others but not really doing anything to please myself.

One thing is certain though, Ed Harris has made an incredible film with Pollock. It follows the life of a painter I myself have always admired (and for a stint in my own artwork, many of my paintings followed the drip style of painting that he so easily laid out and developed out of his own emotions, feelings, inner-turmoil and pleasures). I think back and remember when I took my first painting courses in college, I've always been one to paint more "traditionally" or "classically" with a strong sense of realism in the vein of nature artists like Robert Bateman and Dale Gehrman. But in university, I was encouraged to open up and explore other arenas of painting. With a tinge of resentment and frustration, I went to the library and spent the day in the art section, flipping through all the books I could, and finding the work of Jackson Pollock and Willem DeKoening. I remember signing out half a dozen books that focused on these two painters, and I headed home at about 9pm after being at school all day. I sat in my room, my many canvasses in front of me, leaning against the wall, a blank one in front of me tightly secured to my easel. I sat there looking at the books and staring at the blank canvas for what seemed hours. Finally, around midnight I just picked up a brush and started painting. Something inside hit me and I painted my first abstract paintings. When I did all I could on one painting, I started another. When I ran out of blank canvases I took one of my unfinished mountainscape and turned it into another abstracted composition. This went on for hours and it wasn't until late morning, well after 10am, that I finally went to sleep. And it was seeing Pollock tonight that I was reminded so much of those days from years ago, which suddenly felt as though they happened yesterday.

The film Pollock itself is like a painting of visual imagery, and the way Harris has framed it and set up various visuals reveals the emotions behind the various characters who are explored on screen. At times there is a real sparseness which has been captured here on screen, with moments and characters to savour, appreciate, study and question. Be it through the undressing of a man and a woman standing in a doorway before they make love for the first time, to Pollock himself lying in a field staring up at the sky, with nothing around him for miles on end, but nature itself. Visually, Pollock the movie is an achievement in and of itself, a strong representation of the man whose work had a profound impact on art history.

I'm still shaky a bit inside, I don't really follow what I'm writing right now. It's 1:22AM Pacific Standard Time, in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. I just came in from the 10pm showing of Pollock. It started just after 10, and I got to my car at 12:20pm. I didn't look at my watch once, I just silently sat there, a little crammed in the packed area of the theatre, eating my popcorn, a girl I care for so much by my side, my other friends sitting next to her. A tear rolled down my cheek near the end, at the stunningly sad and violent way in which Pollock's life came to a close. And as the credits rolled I didn't realize that my friends were already up and leaving. All I could do was wonder, where will I be? It was my creativity calling to me. How torn he was inside, the myth of the tortured artist with the weight of what he has created bearing down on him, how to refine the direction of his new artworks all seemed to drive him to literally ruin his life on so many levels and it seemed so very tragic.

But one thing is certain, I won't soon forget this movie going experience. In fact, I don't know if I'll even see this film ever again. I know, it sounds cliché to say that, and I know I will see it again, by myself, in a theatre, if only to see how I react to another viewing. I don't think it'll be like tonight, but I know I'll appreciate it more. But that's the wonderful thing about movies, they can make you feel and they can stir thoughts, ideas and emotions inside you that sometimes you forget you had. Pollock may not be for everyone, but for me, it's one of the best films of the year.

Grade: A+