Review: My Kid Could Paint That (2007)
In 2005, the hyped up world of the New York art scene was buzzing with a human-interest story about the 4 year old abstract artist, Marla Olmstead. She was an infant whose paintings showed prodigious talent and mature compositional skill. Having heard of the story, director Amir Bar-Lev travelled to suburban Binghamton, New York to propose to the Olmsteads that he make an independent documentary about Marla.
In the first half of the documentary, Bar-Lev creates a reasonably objective chronicle of the her rise to fame. Over the backdrop of a snowballing media frenzy, My Kid Could Paint That asks challenging questions about modern art. What is so special about abstract art if it can be produced by a child? Does the work belong in a museum or on the fridge? My Kid Could Paint appears to be a story of adult fascination with child prodigies, and as Marla’s paintings increase in value from $250 apiece to over $25,000, Bel-Lev makes ample comparative reference to the pioneering masters of abstract expressionism, such as Jackson Pollock, whose paintings command tens of millions.
For some, young Marla’s work provides the ultimate debunking proof; that modern art is a hoax patronised by pseudo-intellectuals. Such attacks on Marla’s work are driven by modern art skeptics, and while she has no idea about any imposed precedents set by Pollock, the question remains; is it the same painting if done by a child or adult? Is there some perceived value in the story behind an artwork? Unfortadditionunately, these thematic questions are better explored in films like Orson Welles’ F For Fake, as Bar-Lev ultimately leaves them begging for answers.
In addition to interview material, the film’s narrative is conveyed through observational footage. As with any observational mode of documentary filmmaking, paring down hours of raw footage ultimately shapes the way participants are depicted and in Bar-Lev’s representation, Marla’s parents cut a striking contrast. Mother Laura is characterised as a maternal bastion of common sense and during interviews she is candidly cautious of the media attention surrounding her daughter. While she denies various offers to appear on television, Marla’s father is characterised as an opportunist who is far more at ease with his daughter’s fame.
After a sensationalised 60 Minutes report about Marla airs, the film changes tack and the debate over modern art’s validity is nearly superseded by the question of how the film should ethically represent its characters. Will the director support or damn the family he has spent months filming in the privacy of their own home? Unfortunately, Bar-Lev starts to include himself in various scenes, employing self-reflexivity it seems, to absolve him of any perceived misrepresentation of his subjects. We see several of the director’s displays of doubt and uneasiness. In one squeamish, self-shot scene, he unravels any of the film’s previously established objectivity by turning the camera on himself, breaking his “contract” with the audience and divulging strong personal opinions about the Olmsteads.
Bar-Lev eventually sharpens the ethical dilemma with which he is faced. How can he treat his subjects humanely while seeking the truth about Marla? In my view, what ultimately wins out is the director’s own murky, unsubstantiated truth. As the critic Michael Kimmelman tells Bar-Liv, his documentary is “on some level is going to be a lie”. It is a truth he reveals at some expense to the Olmstead family and it all becomes rather irksome when Mrs. Olmstead realises her family’s story is in Bar-Lev’s hands, pleading with the director mid-interview to “believe” her.
My Kid Could Paint That is an excellent, entertaining documentary about adult issues, illuminated through a child’s story. It asks questions about modern art in a similar vein to Who The #$&% Is Jackson Pollock (2006), but its also a film about documentary filmmaking, exploitative journalism and representation of social characters.
Titicut Rating: 4 / 5
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Related Documentaries:
Who The #%&! Is Jackson Pollock (2006), directed by Harry Moses.
F For Fake (1975), directed by Orson Welles.
