“Gregory Crewdson: Brief Encounters,” directed by Ben Shapiro, offers a compelling portrait of a photographer as, well, a filmmaker of sorts.
In 2000, Shapiro began documenting the Brooklyn-born, highly regarded artist at work. Shortly after he started, Crewdson, now 50, undertook an epic series of large, moody, staged photos called “Beneath the Roses,” shot in western Massachusetts where his family vacationed when he was a boy. Over the years, he’s continued to visit the increasingly economically challenged region.
His “Beneath the Roses” project resembles that of an indie film production. And Shapiro’s film often unfolds as a revealing “making-of” doc.
In his uniform of khaki shorts, boots and T-shirt, Crewdson scouts locations. He’s looking, he says, “for a setting that has the capacity to tell my story.”
There are cranes and lighting rigs. Town streets blocked off. A dedicated crew builds sound stages. In post-production, images get edited again and again. Crewdson casts locals as characters. Even though he’s crafting a single frame, not a motion picture with dialogue or movement or plot, he’ll call for “quiet” on the set. Or, he’ll request “another fog run.” There’s even a director of photography, whose presence provokes the question, “Isn’t that what Crewdson is?”
This is one of the compelling quandaries posed by Shapiro’s film, which is arguably more revelatory than many of the somber, overly constructed images from “Beneath the Roses.”
In addition to the photographer Diane Arbus, to whose work he was introduced by his psychologist father, Crewdson was influenced by artists such as Cindy Sherman and Laurie Simmons, who often stage their images. The latter was a mentor and appears in “Brief Encounters.”
Also offering insights, context and praise are editor Melissa Harris and novelists Russell Banks and Rick Moody.
Filmmakers Alfred Hitchcock and David Lynch get nods. There is a kind of muted horror hinted at in many of the photos. “Quiet desperation,” someone offers as a description.
Crewdson’s images can look painterly even more than cinematic. A photo of a dive bar shot at twilight from up the street and the pensive tableau of a woman lying prone on a motel bed as her tween daughter sits upright in another bed recalls Edward Hopper.
It may sound contrarian coming from a film critic, but I was left somewhat cold by the “Beneath the Roses” photos and frustrated by Crewdson’s insistence on cinematic production values but resistance to authentic narrative. Reviews of the “Beneath the Roses” exhibit in New York suggest I’m not alone.
Still, Shapiro’s film is fascinating even if it can’t possibly answer all the mysteries propelling the work of a photographer whose interest in secrets was rooted in wondering what tales were being uncovered in his psychologist father’s basement office.
Lisa Kennedy: 303-954-1567, lkennedy@ denverpost.com or twitter.com/bylisakennedy
