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I didn't know too much about Jackson Pollock before seeing Ed Harris' impressive biopic. I knew he was an artist. I had heard of his wife, but I didn't know she was an artist as well. And I remember Patti Smith referring to him as a "nigger" in one of her songs.
After seeing Pollock, I'm still not that familiar with the celebrated American artist, but I do know that Harris and screen wife Marcia Gay Harden act their asses off in the film and were justifiably honored with Academy Award nominations for their performances. Pollock is almost good enough to transcend the typical tale of a tortured artist, only occasionally slipping into clichéd scenes showing the artist sitting alone with his head buried in his hands or curled up in the fetal position.
For those of you as uneducated about art as myself, Pollock (played by The Third Miracle's Harris) was a true original, blurring the line between Surrealism and Expressionism in post-war America. He married a fellow artist named Lee Krasner (Harden, Space Cowboys), and the couple struggled with both finances and Pollock's manic-depression until he went down in a blaze of drunken glory. Don't get pissy about me spoiling the ending - when is the last time you saw a movie about an artist that didn't die?
The film opens in 1942, where Pollock and Krasner are both up-and-comers in New York's growing art world. They're a couple of WPA kids, getting monthly stipends from the government to sink into their paintings. Neither is particularly well-known outside New York, especially in Europe, which, at the time, was still the center of the art world. One day Krasner drops by Pollock's apartment to look at his work. She's assertive and almost robotically emotionless, giving him unsolicited advice about his work. They fall in love and move in together, where Krasner blindly supports her man, even if it means his career will overshadow her own.
Things start happening when Pollock's work is seen by the influential Peggy Guggenheim (Harris' real-life wife, Amy Madigan). As his career begins to pick up steam, however, Krasner watches Pollock become unhinged by mental illness and alcoholism. A move to East Hampton (filmed on Pollock's actual property) temporarily helps, but before long, Pollock ditches gardening for binge drinking.
The Hamptons was where Pollock abandoned traditional painting style and accidentally discovered a technique that involved drizzling and splattering paint onto a canvas from above - a move that landed the artist in Life magazine and established him as one of the country's premiere modern artists. Typically, the success only leads to more problems in his life.
The story of Pollock's rise and self-destruction barely matters in the long run. It's much more gratifying to watch Harris wield his paintbrush like a weapon while he creates startling images identical to those of the real artist. But the bizarre relationship between Pollock and Krasner is the real highlight here. Harris, who also directs and produces, has probably never been better, but even his performance takes a backseat to Harden's stellar turn as Krasner. Admittedly, this role is probably the biggest she's had to tackle, but Harden is head and shoulders better here than in anything else I've ever seen her in. She barely sounds like or resembles herself physically. It's like they spliced her DNA with Jeanne Tripplehorn's looks and Rebecca Pidgeon's vocal mannerisms.
Technically, Pollock is a real treat to watch, thanks to Harris' careful direction and some snazzy photography from Buena Vista Social Club cinematographer Lisa Rinzler. The film is based on a novel called "Jackson Pollock: An American Saga," written by Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith and adapted for the screen by Barbara Turner and Susan J. Emshwiller.
2:03 - R for language and brief sexuality
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