The Painter and the Thief

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.

A lost and inquisitive bohemian artisan befriends the thief and junkie that stole her art from a gallery in Oslo. As it transpires, an event that won't do future sales of her art any harm at all but does re-instill your faith in the generosity and kindness of people in a world that continually demonstrates the opposite.

Not a dry eye in the theatre at its premiere last Friday morning at Sundance. At times, it almost seemed fictional because of the bizarre twists and turns you are taken on as the story unfolds. I sat mesmerized watching as it truly is a beautiful, inspiring story. The "Painter" and the "Thief" are both remarkable individuals. The cinematography was tight; amazing artwork, too. All in all a feel great experience, without being too cheesy. Have some Kleenex on hand. :)

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.

The Painter and the Thief is about both art and the art of being human. It's a brilliant, beautiful dogma-ish film presented as a documentary.

Just watch it. It's charming and utterly engaging and it doesn't matter whether or not it's a documentary- it just is and that's what matters.