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We Got Netflix Covered: Trekkies, Unconventional Superheroes And A Romantic Zombie Film That’s Not Warm Bodies?

Netflix has revolutionized the way we watch movies and television, starting simply by mailing titles directly to your house, then evolving into the streaming mecca of all things instantly watchable. Let’s be honest though, how often do we still get Netflix titles in the mail? How many of us have the same Netflix envelope from eight moths ago sitting on our dresser, pushed aside for television series binge-watching and impulse selections? We’ve all been there, and we’re all still paying for that monthly by-mail DVD delivery subscription because hey, you never know, right?
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Documentary Pick: Exit Through The Gift Shop (2010)

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It takes a lot of gall to call yourself Mr. Brainwash and launch a massive gallery show in an old TV studio as your first foray into the art world without taking the initial step of proving your “street cred.” Such “cred” is important when you’re a street artist, but what if Mr. Brainwash isn’t actually a street artist? What if he’s an invention, a commentary on the commoditization of what’s supposed to be an outlet for the offbeat, the unknown and the disenfranchised? And if that’s the case, is Exit Through the Gift Shop really a documentary, or just some kind dramedy about a man that learned exactly the wrong lessons from the artists he was following around for years?

The film begins as French clothier and amateur filmmaker Thierry Guetta starts trailing various street artists under the auspices of filming a documentary about the art form. Thierry was a chronic camera man, meaning that he filmed constantly, threw the tapes in a box and then moved on. When the infamous British artist Banksy pushed Thierry to see a cut of the film, the result – Life Remote Control – seemed like it was made to torture detainees through sensory overload rather than give people the inside story on street art. That’s when Thierry, extrapolating grotesquely on a slight nudge from Banksy, became Mr. Brainwash, and Banksy made the movie he thought Thierry was making all along.

I’ve watched Exit Through the Gift Shop a couple of times now, and while I’ve sometimes thought about Googling “Thierry Guetta,” I resist the urge because I don’t want to rupture this perfect bubble created by the filmmakers, this tight rope that goes between “maybe this is made up” and “it’s too silly not to be true.” Regardless of the realness of Thierry/Mr. Brainwash, Exit has some solid commentary about modern art, a pointed attack about the way commerce drives perception, and a glass of cold water to the face of the whole “art is in the eye of the beholder” jive. Like a good documentary, Exit Through the Gift Shop takes you to places you never expect, sometimes on purpose.

Or maybe not?


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