You Don't Know Jack(son... Pollock)

I recently checked out the documentary "Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock?," a short little ditty about a 73 year-old truck driver who is taking on the art world. She bought a really large painting at a thrift shop for $5, and soon found out that it might be an original Jackson Pollock. She has no idea who this guy is, but after she finds out that her painting might be worth upwards of $50 million dollars, she teaches herself about the art world.

Her biggest hurdle, however, is finding out whether or not the painting is, in fact, a Pollock. The movie spends much of its time exploring this problem, and while it doesn't conclude either way, it presents very strong evidence that she might have the real thing. The dilemma comes from the old fashioned, close-minded art world, which is more exclusive than the cheerleader click in high school. So-called experts, like the former curator of the Met, examine the artwork and unanimously agree that it isn't a Pollock. Their reasoning behind the decision is usually (at least this is how it's presented in the film) based on the fact that it doesn't "feel" like a Pollock. It doesn't "soar like a Pollock, and it doesn't fail like a Pollock," one expert cries. The fact that it was purchased at a thrift shop, and doesn't have any provenance (or history of ownership), doesn't help either.

But the truck driver has one thing on her side: science. If a crime scene can be investigated using DNA and fingerprints, so can a painting. A Canadian scientist who specializes in "CSI: Paintings" is flown to California to do research on the painting. The things he finds are extremely fascinating, especially a partial Pollock fingerprint on the back of the canvas.

What's most amazing is the absolute shunning of this evidence by the art community. Despite having hardcore proof that this painting was handled by Pollock, and painted in his shed which is exact type of paint, they deny it being his. Not only that, but many of the experts and curators think this truck driver is a complete moron for having a dream and believing in something. The documentary provides a glimpse into a world that I've only read about, and provides a startling look at a community I find myself on the fringe of (thankfully).

The film is a brief 74 minutes long, but is a great little detective story. It has all the sorts of characters you would find in an old fashioned noir, too: it's got the forger, the CSI cop, the snobby elitists, the ex-con, and the damsel in distress. It's even got a weird country song at the end of it--which isn't found in many old noirs, but I threw it in there for good measure.

Make sure you check out "Who the #$&% is Jackson Pollock?"