Drawing Restraint 9

Singer-actor Bjork and artist-auteur Matthew Barney have collaborated to produce the ninth entry in Barney's series of artworks based on his theory of artistic and creative resistance. This particular effort is cinematic, and represents arthouse cinema at its best—and its worst.

It's hard to know what to say about a movie like this. I'm fortunate, I imagine, that my computer ate my first attempt at a review.

The story, such as it is, involves the visit of two "occidental guests" (Barney and Bjork) to a decommissioned whaling vessel in Nagasaki harbor. While they are on board, and as the whaler sets out to sea, a weightily symbolic vat of petroleum hardens into jelly on the ship's deck. Later, the vat's hardened contents are flayed like a whale and decompose. Meanwhile, below deck, the occidentals are ritually prepared for a meeting with the ship's captain/historian, a short scene which contains the bulk of the film's dialogue. Then the occidentals—slowly engulfed by seawater and the ship's refuse, a mixture intended to resemble tea—make love while using whaling knives to transform each other into seagoing mammals of a sort.

It's refreshing, certainly, to see artists like Barney and Bjork single-mindedly pursue a personal artistic vision with little regard for commercial viability. For my money, however, I'm more refreshed watching Joss Whedon do that. Call me pedestrian if you must.

Still, there are some nice visual touches in Drawing Restraint 9; but Barney overdoes much of what he does well and takes up far too much screen time to do the rest. This movie could have made its statements—about East-West tensions, whaling industry waste, correlative prophecies about the coming end of petroleum exploitation, and a productive marriage of humanity with the environment—in easily a third of the screen time.

But Barney knows that, I think; and he's aware that the short version would do little more than preach to the choir. So what he's after is satisfying himself—which is certainly commendable—and taking the time to make his statement in as provocative a manner as possible.

In many ways, Barney's artistic vision is as personal and numbing as Mel Gibson's. It's curious that Barney will likely continue to labor in relative arthouse obscurity while Gibson will continue to hit boxoffice homeruns.

Why is that? Is it because Gibson panders to a Christian audience while Barney caters to a categorically bohemian crowd? I doubt it. I imagine that it has more to do with the fact that Gibson's sensibilities are simply in tune with the prevailing occidental machismo and imperialism, while Barney and Bjork have clearly had enough of all that.

Some high art enforces the status quo, while some tears it down. Which art would Jesus prefer?

Now, that's an interesting question. If Barney weren't so pedantic and self-absorbed, Jesus just might be a member of Barney's choir. Barney's art is definitely iconoclastic. But until Barney actually learns to exercise some restraint, I guess there's always Gibson.

Ick.