Jean Michel Basquiat was one of the most controversial painters
of the 1980s, from his beginnings as a graffiti artist, to his
paintings that were bought by the most prestigious galleries and
collectors, to his untimely death by drug overdose at the age
of 27. After he died, his mystique--and the prices his paintings
could fetch--reached dizzying heights. Critics said it was a sign
of the art world's worst flaws, that his adventurous life and
equally dramatic demise contributed more to his paintings' worth
than anything else. But this film, written and directed by Basquiat's
contemporary and fellow artist Julian Schnabel, stays away from
such esoteric judgments and instead presents a touching
biography of an artist who wrestled with the demons that plague
any creative process.
Film is ultimately an imperfect genre for biography: Events must
be condensed, themes must be chosen and then presented with broad
strokes, influences are inevitably included briefly or ignored
altogether. In Basquiat, several of the main characters,
such as Basquiat's girlfriends Claire and Big Pink and his friends
Benny and Greg, are composites. Other aspects of the film are
obviously taken from real life, like Basquiat's friendship with
Andy Warhol and his relationship with art dealers like Mary Boone
and Annina Nosei. Schnabel says of the film's events: "Most
of the stuff in this movie happened. The rest, I hope is true
to his spirit." Basquiat does succeed, however, in
striking a mood for the art world--elegant and elevated but gritty
and unflinching--and carrying it through.
The film's atmosphere is considerably aided by a stellar cast.
Jeffrey Wright, best known as the Tony Award winning actor of
the Broadway production Angels in America, carries the
film as Basquiat with a world-weary sadness and moments of child-like
joy. Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman, Willem Dafoe and Benicio del
Toro (the mumbling thief in The Usual Suspects) are all
a pleasure to watch in their varying roles. David Bowie particularly
succeeds as the outrageously famous Andy Warhol, playing the pop
culture hero with an endearing goofiness that simply shines. The
film explores many subjects such as fame, friendship, artistic
merit and race (Basquiat was one of the first African-American
painters to really succeed in the overwhelmingly white New York
art world), and the cast seems to have complete sympathy with
and mastery over these themes.
Most interestingly, Basquiat acts as a commentary and reflection
on art itself. Schnabel plays with film's conventions by often
de-synchronizing the visual and the audible--for instance, he'll
show Basquiat looking pensive and silent while we hear Basquiat's
voice commenting on something else entirely. It may sound jarring,
but it works beautifully in context, highlighting the complexity
of Basquiat's life and the frequently dissonant nature of great
art. Especially in the second half of the film, the narrative
slows down to experiment with and explore the artist's psyche
and work.
Painting is a slow medium that demands patience on the part of
its audience, and this film seems to be trying to reflect that.
Some will undoubtedly call it boring, but it also seems refreshing
and a rare attribute when it comes to film, in that it gives the
audience some time and space to actually reflect on what it's
seeing. Basquiat is an unusual film in both its art world
subject matter and its artistic representation. It's well worth
seeing for those who will take the time to consider its meanings.