The Painter and the Thief

A film so different from anything I have ever seen and one that feels like you're watching a real life friendship develop on screen (which you technically are) and it's marvelous. From tragedy to triumphant moments, The Painter & the Thief is the most unique film you'll see in years. Oh, and that last shot is breathtaking.

10/10.

Really good and beautifully crafted. Almost like a love story

A photo-realist painter asks to do a portrait of the thief who stole her masterpiece from an Oslo museum. He complies and some strange variation of Stockholm emerges, tats and all. The Painter and Thief is a documentary like none you have seen before-the crime is real, and the principles are the originals. Weird and complicated as the real crime was, this documentary beats it by a Louvre mile.

Barbora Kysilkova had been a minor Czech photo realism star now settled in Norway. When Karl Bertil-Nordland steals two of her paintings, he is distraught enough that to agree to the portrait. Why she needs to do it would confuse a convention of Freudians, why he does is inscrutable because he can't even remember why he committed it in the first place. Or rather, he doesn't offer his drug intake as excuse.

The Painter and the Thief eschews the usual documentary over- analysis of subjects because there is not an iota of chance that either understands their reasons. As far as the realism of a documentary, like Christopher Nolan, director Benjamin Ree skillfully upends the usual chronology and logic to play with their time together and ours to figure out the real reason this is happening.

Not that we ever get to that point. Bertil turns out to be much more than an addled addict obsessed with an artist, and in that resolution of character, the film takes off into the abstract world of artistic intent, inspiration, an truth. Bertil's untutored passion for artistic expression (try to take your eyes off his tats-you can't because like his disoriented life, there appears to be no reason for the designs until he starts to explain them). Same with the film, so keep reading good critics if you want to find Ree's labyrinth.

Perhaps this film is memorable because it looks like boilerplate docudrama and it isn't or because it looks like art and it is actually life not completely understood. If you are reading this review, you'll be happy to be seduced by the ineffability of art. This is not a documentary; it is art.

When a struggling (is there any other kind?) visual artist has a chance to confront the thief of her precious paintings, she does so in a strange, friendly approach of curiosity. Soon the two are meeting for tea and deep conversation. A film so seemingly plot driven is actually a stark documentary, one of those crazy miracles where the filmmaker is in the right place at the right time, and an enthralling story develops before his lens. Benjamin Ree captures their tale in gorgeous shots, unfettered dialogue, and stealthiness. Hard to believe that there wasn't any staging involved, as there is total absence of camera intrusions, or director interference.

"The Painter and the Thief" works on so many levels, but it is the startling relationship that develops between artist and her new found muse that is the heart of this fire. Obviously upset at her loss, Barbora Kysilkova quickly moves her emotions to dig deep into the psyche of the troubled Karl-Bertil, offering branches of support and friendship. He returns the favour, but struggles to shed his bad boy lifestyle, and lapses. Whether Barbora is truly offering up a humanitarian hand, or using the danger boy as artistic inspiration, or both, is an interesting question that looms throughout.

Each are enthralling characters, with definitely wildly divergent career paths, that have become entangled like wild weeds of infatuation. Its an enlightening look at how humans interact with each other, who we choose to interact with, what we are looking for, and why do we look in the first place? Deep down inside: are we, or are we not, good?

How can this possibly end well? There's only one way to find out.

• hipCRANK

This weekend, thanks to IDA (International Documentary Association), I was given the opportunity to watch Norwegian filmmaker Benjamin Ree's documentary, "The Painter and the Thief." The film follows the 3 year journey of Czech artist living in Norway, Barbora Kysilkova, and her attempt to locate several of her paintings stolen from an art gallery. Barbora connects at the trial with caught ringleader, Karl-Bertil Nordland, a career criminal fighting a heroin addiction and a (possibly)feigned memory loss of the theft, and offers to paint his self-portrait, in hopes this may help her find out the whereabouts of the stolen paintings. What follows this initial meeting between the two is an unexpected friendship and empathetic bond over the next 3 years. Without giving anything away, the documentary's ending is rather extraordinary.