After gathering our passes and applying some social lubricant, we got into the packed Missouri Theater to see Smash His Camera - a doc which premiered at Sundance and was just picked up by HBO this week for distribution.
The film documents the life's work of Ron Galella, a lifelong paparazzo who was sued by Jackie O. and punched in the face by Marlon Brando. Galella and a cadre of supporters and detractors narrate the story, from his first work in the late '60s up to today.
Director Leon Gast also directed the stellar When We Were Kings. While Galella doesn't have the charisma of a figure like Ali (and then again who does?), both films focus on a singular personality whose actions ultimately, and perhaps surprisingly, resonate into the culture at large.
Beyond just the character story of the eccentric photographer, the film raises interesting questions about what constitutes art - particularly in photography. Galella's work has recently been exhibited at museums, and it's hard to argue that he hasn't taken some beautiful photographs. His shots are snapshots, often with a prominent flash bulb glare, but the candid, vulnerable moments he captures can be fascinating. His critics argue that anyone who takes that many shots is bound to wind up with a few good shots, and also point out that it's always the subject that makes the photo interesting.
Galella comes across warmly, though seeing he has applied his techniques to subjects including children can be stomach-churning. I was particularly struck by his string of photos of Angelina Jolie, going back to when she appeared to be only eight or nine years old. He argues in several archival interviews that his intention is to show celebrities at their most human.
That argument felt rather thin to me, but there is a fascinating moment late in the film when a young girl, probably in her teens, wanders through an exhibition of Galella's work. She tries to identify the subjects of the photos - the likes of Onasis, Steve McQueen, Bridget Bardot, etc. She recognizes almost none of them. It's subtle but striking evidence of the fleeting nature of fame, and perhaps lends credence to Galella's claim that in the end, he's just capturing images of humanity.
After Smash His Camera, we caught and enjoyed the Secret Screening Black. But by the request of the programmers, I'll leave my thoughts on that a secret.
