Any reviewer who reviews a movie about an artist and uses the term "artsy fartsy" shouldn't be trusted--except, of course, by those who find such a term enlightening. I am not particularly artistic, but I respect artistic people, those who see things differently-- perhaps idealistically, as engaged with the rest of nature and humanity, through a psychological/sociological/political/etc. prism that uniquely underscores the basis of things. (It is very hard to define what art "does"!) At any rate, Ray Johnson is one such person, and How to Draw a Bunny is one such film. The movie, at least temporarily, lifts the viewer out of the mundane world of tabloidization and banal politics and consumerism, shakes him (or her) up, rearranges him, however slightly, in his view of himself and the world.
In this way, this film, like all good art, works something like magic. The viewer doesn't necessarily feel "better" about the world, but the visual abilities have changed for the better, thus improving one's sense of those things that actually matter in life (as opposed to those that don't, such as points of view that use clichés such as "artsy fartsy.") I'm not sure Johnson is exactly likable. Were he my acquaintance, I might feel more dismayed than friendly toward the guy. But I like the way he sees things and helps me see things. The film, well shot and superbly edited, is actually framed as a sort of mystery: why and how did Johnson die? We don't get a complete answer, but the journey is fascinating. This film would, by the way, make a good companion piece with the Andy Goldsworthy movie. Both are about unconventional nonconformists who do things their way, with fascinating results.
In this way, this film, like all good art, works something like magic. The viewer doesn't necessarily feel "better" about the world, but the visual abilities have changed for the better, thus improving one's sense of those things that actually matter in life (as opposed to those that don't, such as points of view that use clichés such as "artsy fartsy.") I'm not sure Johnson is exactly likable. Were he my acquaintance, I might feel more dismayed than friendly toward the guy. But I like the way he sees things and helps me see things. The film, well shot and superbly edited, is actually framed as a sort of mystery: why and how did Johnson die? We don't get a complete answer, but the journey is fascinating. This film would, by the way, make a good companion piece with the Andy Goldsworthy movie. Both are about unconventional nonconformists who do things their way, with fascinating results.