Wiseman’s National Gallery

In today’s world, a museum should not merely function as a repository of great works of art, but should also serve as a center of cultural life. Yet, it must still uphold its elite standards. The National Gallery seems to be walking that line relatively skillfully from what we can glean during Frederick Wiseman’s latest institutional documentary. He quietly observes the docent talks, art classes, and musical performances programmed in the venerable museum, as well as the sometimes contentious staff meetings behind-the-scenes in National Gallery (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

Just so there is no confusion, this is the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square in London, not the National Gallery of Art on the Washington DC Mall. As Wiseman’s period of documentation commences, the museum is in the final days of a blockbuster Leonardo da Vinci exhibit, but must plan with some trepidation for a road race that will end right in front of their building. While their marketing head considers it a potential opportunity, NG director Nicholas Penny is highly skeptical. Throughout the film, he serves as the advocate of tradition and decorum, conservatively defined.

However, there are many more voices in National Gallery, due to its educational mandate. From various sources, we learn about masterworks by da Vinci, J.M.W. Turner, Vermeer, Michelangelo, Velazquez, and Titian (the subject of their next significant exhibition), and the challenges of curating at such a lofty level. While some viewers might prefer to watch Sister Wendy reruns if they want an art history fix, it is certainly more approachable than listening to Idaho’s legislators debate land use in Wiseman’s State Legislature. In fact, it is all quite fascinating for anyone interested in fine art, thanks to the quality of NG staff and the remarkable collection they have assembled.

As a result, Wiseman’s National Gallery has a livelier tone than the obvious recent comparison film, Oeke Hoogendijk’s four hour-plus New Rijksmuseum, even though the Dutch documentary captures much more pressing drama as it unfolds. In contrast, Wiseman simply presents an all-access visit to the museum, but it is a pleasant one.

You have to wonder how much convincing it took Penny to open up the museum to Wiseman and his crew, but he clearly grew accustomed to their presence. He and the entire curatorial and docent staff come across as highly trained and rather eloquent professionals. Ironically though, Wiseman and his films probably have an even more elite following than the NG, but his fans should all be primed for a return visit after viewing this cinematic immersion.

At a mere three hours, National Gallery is rather economical compared to some of Wiseman’s prior works. The subject matter also helps. Like his dance films, Crazy Horse and La Danse, there are plenty of hooks here for the audience to grab onto. Recommended for Wiseman admirers and patient patrons of the arts, National Gallery opens this Wednesday (11/5) in New York at Film Forum.

Wiseman’s Crazy Horse

Renowned documentarian Frederick Wiseman once again turns his lens on a dance institution, but the Crazy Horse is more about covers and drink minimums than season tickets. The inner workings of the Parisian nightclub considered home to the world’s most artistically refined nude dancing is quietly observed in Wiseman’s Crazy Horse (trailer here), now playing in New York at Film Forum.

Choreographer Philippe Decouflé has grand plans for a new revue, but management will not close down long enough for a suitable development period. This will be the central conflict of Wiseman’s time in residence at the storied cabaret. An iconic institution for over sixty years, Crazy Horse (a.k.a. Le Crazy) management claims they cater to a significant female clientele. Perhaps, but this certainly is not the Paris Opera Ballet featured in La Danse, nor the American Ballet Theater Wiseman studied in Ballet. It is light-years away from the Idaho state legislators seen in his C-SPAN-like State Legislature.

There is no getting around the eroticism of the club’s shows. However, their production values are undeniably impressive. Particularly striking are the often suggestive lighting effects that put the old disco ball to shame. Decouflé and artistic director Ali Mahdavi have crafted some very stylish numbers and the dancers are of an elite caliber. Competitively selected from open try-outs, they are certainly attractive, but they clearly have dancers’ physiques rather than, you know, strippers.’

Wiseman and his longtime cinematographer John Davey vividly capture the colors and spectacle of le Crazy’s stage-shows. There is also an unusual amount of music for a Wiseman film, recorded during the course of the dancers’ performances, which is mostly rather up-tempo and poppy. Indeed, this might be one of his most upbeat and zesty films, perhaps ever. At a brisk one hundred and thirty-four minutes, it is almost like a short subject for the filmmaker.

Crazy Horse is pretty steamy. However, considering the attention lavished on the steps, costumes, and lighting of its celebrated dancers, le Crazy’s shows would still probably be distinctive, even if they were more fully clothed. Indeed, that is the real measure of their artistic merit. Without question, Wiseman’s film will instill in audiences a healthy appreciation for the Parisian hot spot. Recommended for mature adults, Crazy Horse screens at Film Forum through Tuesday, February 7th.

Wiseman’s La Danse

At a mere 158 minutes, Frederick Wiseman’s latest documentary opus is practically a short subject by his standards. It is also one of his most accessible, focusing on the passionate art of the choreographers and dancers of one of the world’s elite ballet companies in La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

In many ways, Wiseman is the anti-Michael Moore documentarian. Never seen on camera, Wiseman refrains from any techniques, like voice-overs or talking head interviews, which might impose personal judgments on his subjects. Instead, he captures his subjects from a fly-on-the-wall-perspective, only exercising his subjective sensibilities as a filmmaker during the editing process. The result is often very long films like his prior film, 217 minute State Legislature, a portrait of Idaho’s state legislators at work.

Wiseman’s films frequently depict the inner workings of large institutions, fascinating in the mundane details of seemingly government bureaucracies. However, in La Danse, he has an enormously photogenic environment in the magnificent Paris Opera Hall, a remarkable building that becomes as much a character in La Danse as the dancers rehearsing in its various studios.

While from time to time, we sit in on the business meetings that make the performances possible or watch the janitors at work, but the bulk of La Danse consists of dance, starting with early rehearsals and culminating with the stage performances. Evidently, the Paris Opera programs quite a diverse season, from traditional crowd pleasers like The Nutcracker (as choreographed by Rudolf Noureev) to more demanding fare, like Mats Ek’s La Maison de Bernarda.

This is indeed a dance film, but it is not exactly The Red Shoes. Wiseman’s transparent camera shows us the arduously hard work required to maintain the company’s lofty standards. He also makes some rather unusual editorial decisions, for instance showing the audience the disturbing scene from Angelin Preljocaj’s Medea that truly makes it Medea.

La Danse certainly bears the Wiseman stamp, thoroughly immersing viewers in the Paris Opera Ballet’s rarified world (which looks quite striking through John Davey’s lens). It is also a particularly audience-friendly effort from the legendary documentarian, given its manageable running time and relatively commercial subject matter. Ballet lovers as well as Wiseman admirers should find it a rich viewing experience when it opens at the Film Forum tomorrow (11/4).

State Legislature Opens Friday

Many outside of Idaho will not be particularly knowledgeable of the state’s politics, beyond perhaps the colorful names of some statewide office holders, like Gov. “Butch” Otter, former Gov. Phil Batt, and Sen. Mike Crapo. Some may have also read about their other Senator’s worst visit to Minnesota ever. However, legendary documentarian Frederick Wiseman turns his camera on Idaho’s citizen lawmakers in State Legislature, opening in New York at Anthology Film Archives this Friday.

Wiseman is an unlikely cult filmmaker, celebrated for his long, in-depth documentary films, which often focus on bureaucratic organizations. However, jazz listeners may remember him for producing Shirley Clarke’s feature The Cool World, which featured a powerful Dizzy Gillespie soundtrack. As a documentarian, Wiseman eschews voice-overs and soundtrack music, instead capturing events as they happen.

The lead figure in Legislature is logically enough then Speaker of the State House Bruce Newcomb. In the opening scene, Newcomb speaking to a school group puts Idaho’s part-time legislature in context:

“I’m here for three months and I’m home as a rancher for nine months, and I have to live with what the legislature did to me and listen to what other people think I did to them, and then I come back and I make changes.”

Though part-time, most legislators appear quite conscientious. Newcomb might have a certain folksy charm, but he is clearly deeply conversant in the issues facing the state, as when he discusses water politics in great detail with a reporter. They bemoan the fact that water might be as valuable as oil, but as an issue, it is duller than dirt. Yet, Wiseman patiently lets this discussion and hearings on mundane issues like state licensing for contractors unfold in due time.

Legislature is similar to other Wiseman projects in its apparently unfiltered style. However, in some ways Legislature is a departure for Wiseman. His films have a reputation for following a thematic organization rather than a chronological order. However, Legislature’s early scenes document initial committee work and later scenes record floor votes, giving it a more conventional story arc, over the course of the legislative session.

Wiseman is probably best known for Titicut Follies, an expose of conditions in a Massachusetts facility for the criminally insane. Many of his documentaries are considered “problem” films in a similar vein, but again Legislature is an exception. Here, legislators are reasonably well informed and seem to work in good conscience on behalf of their constituents. Evidently, we can rest assured that at least the citizens of Idaho are well represented by their legislators. (I hasten to add we have no such reassurances here in New York.)

Wiseman seems to avoid partisan politics, as such. Perhaps, this was by necessity, as both chambers of the Idaho legislature are overwhelmingly Republican. However, when filming average citizens testifying before legislators, it seems like he gives a pronounced advantage to liberal proponents on issues like driver’s licenses for illegal aliens and whether an American history exhibit can include the Ten Commandments. In truth, this imbalance is the film's one major weakness. Of course, with a running time over three and a half hours, it is difficult to yearn for more footage.

Wiseman obviously had remarkable access, and captured some telling scenes. Ultimately, Newcomb and his colleagues acquit themselves well on film. It can be a challenge—perhaps best suited for C-SPAN die-hards—but Legislature has real insights on state government, and is notable as a documentary that does not add to the cynicism regarding the American political process. It begins a limited run in New York at the Anthology Film Archives, and debuts on PBS in June.

(Note: The highly recommended Company debuts on PBS tonight. Revisit the review here.)