From a quick online inquiry into his artwork it seems that Julian Schnabel is not as much of a screw up as a painter as he is as a filmmaker. I have now seen two of his abysmal films, the first being The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (an utter abomination) that earned Julian Schnabel a best director nomination at the 2007 Academy Awards (of course the academy likes his pretentious dribble). The second miserable film of his I had the displeasure of watching is Basquiat, a biopic about contemporary (and possible friend) Jean-Michel Basquiat.
I read on wikipedia that Basquiat had regular art showings with Julian Schnabel. This leads me to believe that Schnabel knew the man and could at least provide some insight into his art, his mind, his mannerisms, something, in his movie. Unfortunately, Schnabel is a terrible filmmaker and in this case, maybe a terrible observer of humanity. He portrays Basquiat as a hollow, lackluster shell of a human being. Actor Jeffrey Wright gives an empty performance marked only by his strained facial features and painful following-the-motions mannerisms of conflicted genius. Schnabel assumes Basquiat is a genius without ever giving the audience a reason to agree. The first we are told about Basquiat is that he likes to damage other people’s property with his not so impressive graffiti (but he can do this because he is such a genius). Then he goes into a restaurant and pours syrup onto the table and draws a picture of the waitress face. She is so charmed that she immediately gives him her number then jumps into bed with him. These are the first signs of an obnoxious indie movie. Then in a Wes Anderson dismay, Basquiat despondently walks around the city to the tunes of songs telling his dejected mood (some of which are good, like Bowie’s “A Small Plot of Land”). Toward the end of the movie, Basquiat walks around the city to three different songs, back to back. Finally as the songs find liberation, so does Basquiat. The movie ends with a pretentious story about a king who shares beauty with the world while trapped in a tower, just like Basquiat.
After reading a short biography about Julian Schnabel it seems that Basquiat is as much of an autobiography as a biography. Schnabel, like Basquiat, had a quick rise to popularity seemingly from out of nowhere. (You can read this short biography at http://www.leninimports.com/julian_schnabel.html). Schnabel had a charismatic and eccentric personality (we could only wish that the character Basquiat have some charisma). But the most impressive thing about Schnabel is his paintings. And the most impressive thing about the movie are the paintings, all of which Schnabel created (“since rights to Basquiat's work were not granted to the filmmakers by the artist's estate” Allmovie.com). The paintings are what give the character Basquiat respect but this is ultimately a respect for Schnabel’s work. So isn’t this movie more of a celebration of Schnabel’s genius than Basquiat’s? Well, it’s a poor celebration at that. So much for stroking your own ego.
This is a movie by an insider of the New York art scene in the 1980’s that doesn’t seem to have an idea about that world. Maybe Schnabel did too many drugs to know what was going on in the world around him. Despite the fact that this is an insiders view, the movie tells us nothing of interest. It is a sub-standard biopic because in Basquiat not even the acting is good and the plot is certainly not entertaining. The only thing that saves this movie from zero stars is David Bowie as Andy Warhol. Bowie does a convincing job and is as always entertaining to watch.
Julain Schnabel should stick to his paintings. Only in those does he find some sort of artistry.
http://www.moca-la.org/museum/pc_media_viewer.php?acsnum=85.82&dim=600px
http://www.moca-la.org/museum/pc_media_viewer.php?acsnum=85.83&dim=600px