by Jason Adams
Before there was Hitchcock, before there was Michael Haneke and Todd Solondz and the Davids Cronenberg and Lynch, before Almodovar and Assayas and Campion herself, there was Steven Spielberg. A Jewish kid from the suburbs of Arizona who threw a malfunctioning shark robot into the Pacific Ocean and changed the movie business, he was My Guy. I saw Jurassic Park twelve times in the theater in the Summer of 1993 - I read my first Pauline Kael review for him. Steven Spielberg changed the movie business and his movie business changed my life.
Spielberg the documentary, on the other hand, isn't changing any business any time soon...
A talking head hagiography that not only believes the hype but ladles it on so thick your eyes might scorch, it struck even this true believer as a bit much at times. (And why so mean to The Color Purple???) But every legend gets their in-depth doc these days, and Spielberg's clearly one of those (a legend, that is) so here's that. Spielberg the doc is brand management passing as movie-making - an elbow shine up of a man whose last couple of projects haven't quite taken off like he's used to.
Still every person you can imagine comes out to help shine him up - I imagine it's bad business not to, no matter how bad The BFG did. But Stevie - excuse me, Mr. Spielberg , sir - for all his King of Hollywood bonafides really does sparkle with genuine movie love, and when the doc gets him personally talking about what movies mean to him the doc sparkles too. (His love for Lawrence of Arabia is lovely.) There are some fun interludes scattered around but I kept wishing for something more focused like the De Palma doc last year - instead of a parade of famous folks kissing their bosses butt let's just listen to the boss-man! He's why we're here anyway.
Spielberg screens again tonight at the NYFF, and will debut on HBO this Saturday, October 7th at 8:00pm.