Botero: Upbeat Doc on Hugely Successful Living Artist Less Successful than Him

By Karen Gordon

Rating: B-

Botero, a portrait of Columbian-born artist Fernando Botero, is perhaps more tribute than actual documentary. In some ways, it’s as much a portrait of a family as it is about arguably one of the most successful and popular living artists in the world.

The film, by Vancouver director Don Millar, takes us through the life story of Botero, whose figurative work in painting and sculptures is characterized by corpulent or exaggerated figures.

The film takes us from his modest childhood in Medellin, Columbia where his father’s sudden death plunged the family into poverty, to his development as an artist in two mediums — painting and sculpture — the latter of which he picked up later in his career with great success.

Through the film we learn that although it may seem counterintuitive for a kid from a poor background, his mother supported his desire to be an artist. Ultimately, Botero’s talent and drive made him a citizen of the world, moving from Columbia to Europe to study, with time spent in New York before moving to Paris which became his base.

The film looks at his many influences which are an interesting mix of styles and eras, from modernists like Picasso and the painters of the Renaissance, especially Piero della Francesca, who inspired him to study in Florence.

Botero himself is interviewed; now in his 80s, he is a neat trim figure who comes across as retiring and modest in spite of his great success, and who says he’s still motivated to paint every day for the joy of the work itself.

Much of the story of his life is told by his three adult children who clearly adore him, and who speak with a tone of reverence and wonder when they talk about any and every aspect of their father’s life. (His daughter Lina Botero Zia is listed as executive producer and chief creative consultant).

The effect is to paint him as a grand patriarch presiding over a loving family that now stretches to grandchildren, who also speak beautifully about their grandfather, a man they clearly admire.
The film also includes some light analysis of his work by curators, mostly celebratory. There is a notable exception: New York based art critic, professor and, in this film, mega-sourpuss Rosalind Krauss. Clearly not a fan, she characterizes his work as “terrible” and dismisses his image as being like “the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”

Her joyless and cranky presence may have meant to provide balance to all of the celebration, but it is so far away from the tone of the piece that it’s more distracting than informative. She seems more bitter than anything else and doesn’t go deep enough to provide a counterpoint that might help us challenge the way we see the artwork.

And that shying away from making this challenging is the film’s biggest problem. There’s a lack of depth, both emotionally and intellectually We are given an overview of his development, his influences, and the way his work spans subject matter that is both personal, and very political, between the personal and the political, it stays too much on the surface, as if it’s too eager not to offend. And even the most wrenching part of Botero’s life — the death of his youngest son Pedro at age five in a car accident — is handled with a surprisingly little emotion.

This upbeat approach is a symptom of a kind of film we’re seeing these days that falls into the “documentary” category. Movies that are less true documentary, in that they’re not really using a journalistic eye or critical lens and therefore are really about creating a kind of “legacy” film, easily digested, and positive.

With Botero, the relentless positivism appears to have been the point. And perhaps Botero is as presented: a supremely talented visual artist who has remained grounded, modest, and is not driven by any kind of demons or neurosis.

But still. An artist’s legacy isn’t diminished by looking with a more critical eye. In fact, the more depth, the more connection we have with their work.

What would have made the film more essential is adding in some intellectual grit, giving us a deeper look at his philosophy, and a greater analysis of the work itself, showing us see the many streams of his influences in his work, and giving us a new or better way of appreciating his images.

Without that the film has a slightly saccharine hangover.

Even so, Botero has merit. It’s beautifully shot and well organized. It does give us the broad strokes of Botero’s life and work. And it is a fairly easy-going and digestible primer into one of the world’s most popular living artists.

Botero. Directed by Don Millar. Screens January 10 to 17 at Toronto’s Hot Docs Ted Rogers Cinema.