Harris gives his all to Pollock

Julien R. Fielding

"... It seems to be possible to control the flow of paint, to a great extent, and I don't use ... the accident: I deny the accident."

Because of his strong personality and innovative art techniques, Jackson Pollock has reached near legendary status. And thanks to actor and director Ed Harris' film, "Pollock," the abstract painter's renown shouldn't diminish any time soon.

Based on Steven Naifeh and Gregory White Smith's weighty biography "Jackson Pollock: An American Saga," Harris' film examines the artist's turbulent 15-year marriage to artist Lee Krasner (Marcia Gay Harden), his alcoholism, self destructiveness, infidelities, brilliance and self doubt.

Screenwriters Barbara Turner ("Georgia") and Susan Emshwiller ("The Player," "Short Cuts") undertook a daunting task, condensing 934 pages into a compelling, coherent film.

But credit is due - they did it and spectacularly.

The story begins at the height of the artist's popularity then backtracks about nine years. We watch as Sande Pollock (Robert Knott) carries his heavily inebriated brother (Harris) up five flights of stairs to their apartment. Sande's pregnant wife angrily awaits at the door. Throughout the film this scene will be revisited several times with various people, most notably Krasner, serving as Jackson's emotional props.

Pollock is a taciturn saturnine presence, given to sudden manic outbursts. He's intense, disturbed and most of all obsessed with painting; allowing his turbulent emotionalism to spill onto his canvas.

"I've been a Jungian for a long time ... painting is a state of being ... Painting is self-discovery. Every good artist paints what he is."

Initially, Pollock's painting pays homage to his artistic influences, including the surrealists, Mexican muralists, Pablo Picasso and Andre Masson. However, at the end of the 1940s, Pollock invents the "dripping" technique, during which he drips paints from a stick or the container onto the canvas, and becomes a sensation.

But the artist finds it difficult handling all the attention and scrutiny generated by the press; he is featured in Life magazine. Full of self doubt, he gives up two years of sobriety and begins his downward spiral, gaining weight and sinking deeper into self-destruction.

The artist dies in 1956 from a car accident.

Part of "Pollock's" success is due to its wonderfully rich screenplay that pays close attention to the words and details of this fascinating artist's life. But the rest goes to the phenomenal Harris. As his feature film debut and labor of love for 15 years, "Pollock" is almost as much a masterpiece as the 23-foot-long mural Pollock made for Peggy Guggenheim.

Harris is a careful and sensitive director, undoubtedly due to his many years of acting. And he is well-matched with cinematographer Lisa Rinzler, twice a winner of Sundance Film Festival's Jury Prize for cinematography for "Menace II Society" and "Three Seasons." She helps him achieve some incredible shots and compositions.

Every frame of "Pollock" breathes life.

Editor Kathyrn Himoff ("Killing Zoe," "Mi Vida Loca") seamlessly integrates different film stocks and tightens scenes to make them the best possible.

The film, too, features some incredible performances. Physically, Harris is eerily reminiscent of the late painter, for both men share a balding head, piercing eyes and wiry frame. An impressive actor, Harris embodies Pollock. It's as if he's crawled into the dead man's flesh and then channeled his spirit.

Harris is a subtle and thorough actor. He's not about theatrical emotionalism. Rather he conveys depths with his crystalline eyes, furrowed brow and gestures.

At his second big gallery show, Pollock is in the midst of meeting and greeting guests, an activity he seems a little overwhelmed by, when his mother and brother walk in. He just lights up. But its more than simple joy; it's heartwrenchingly like an abandoned child, wanting desperately to be loved.

In another scene, Pollock comes across a wounded dog in the roadway. He drives it to a physician, asking the man to save the dog because its such a beautiful animal. In that moment, we see the gentleness and innocence of this deeply troubled being.

Although Pollock acts abominably, we never hate him. We experience his pain and want to see him cared for.

"He's like a caged animal," someone says of Pollock.

Harris illustrates this truth.

Although an independent and talented woman, Krasner put her own artistic career on hold to nurture Pollock. She weathered alcoholism and infidelity because she believed in his talent. (She also seems to have been co-dependent.) Harden gives this exceptional woman guts and softness and plays the intellectual to his overt emotionalism. Without her, Pollock surely would have self-destructed long before he did.

Because of her exceptional performance, the film becomes more than just a biography of one man. It's a fascinating study of creative relationships and how women often sublimate themselves to buoy a husband or lover into the spotlight. (History is full of these types of women.) The actress was awarded an Oscar for her portrayal of the self-sacrificing Krasner.

Another memorable performances comes from Harris' real life wife, Amy Madigan, who portrays society matron Peggy Guggenheim. With her shockingly black hair, red lipstick, Shih Tzu companions and powerful personality, she proves more than a match for any upstart artist. Her speech about "no one makes Peggy Guggenheim climb five flights of stairs; I have weak ankles" is delightfully executed.

Val Kilmer, Bud Cort, Jeffrey Tambor, John Heard and Jennifer Connelly play supporting roles.

Having received just two Academy Award nominations, "Pollock" was pretty much ignored. And when you compare Harris's brilliant performance to that of Russell Crowe's "award-winning" turn in "Gladiator," you will want to demand a "recount."

Whether or not you know anything about art, "Pollock" is still an exceptional film anyway you look at it. It features fabulous acting, gorgeous scenery and true human drama. It rarely gets much better than this.

"Pollock" is being shown at the Dundee Theater in Omaha. It is rated R for language and brief sexuality. It runs 122 minutes.

Harris gives his all to Pollock was originally published in Daily Nonpareil on 19 April, 2001. © Council Bluffs Daily Nonpareil LLC