Grade: B-

Verdict: Film's broad strokes are appealing, if not completely satisfying.

Details: Starring Ed Harris. Rated R for language and brief sexuality. Two hours, 2 minutes.

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Review: It's easy, perhaps, to appreciate why Ed Harris opted to direct a film about the late American painter Jackson Pollock, renowned for his breakthrough "drip" technique. It's even easier to see why Harris wanted to portray the simmering, animated man--a choice that afforded the performer a chance to drive recklessly, stumble around intoxicated, overturn a dinner table and paint intensely--to act like a tormented artist, in other words.

The sensitive Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, true to form, has given a best-actor nomination to Harris--deservedly so--for his uncanny embodiment. The movie Pollock, however, wasn't granted a best-picture nod, possibly because of its pokey essence and lack of insight into the maestro's behavior.

The story picks up circa 1940 in New York, when Pollock, a transplanted Californian, hangs out with his brother and sister-in-law while tipping the bottle. The protagonist makes no effort to pull things together before Lee Krasner (Marcia Gay Harden)--a fine artist in her own right--comes knocking.

The talented tandem soon moves in together, allowing Lee to scrutinize her lover's latest creation, though Pollock seems unreceptive ("I'm just painting.") He soon lands his first solo exhibit, with help from admirer and art mogul Peggy Guggenheim (Harris' wife Amy Madigan). Critic and eventual friend Clem (the outstanding Jeffrey Tambor) weighs in with mixed opinions of Pollock's collection.

In time, the title figure and Lee tie the knot (ceremony unseen). Viewers are treated to a smattering of pivotal individuals played by well-known actors: Pollock's close friend Tony (John Heard); the featured artist's mom (Sada Thompson); acquaintance and painter Willem de Kooning (Val Kilmer); and Pollock's mistress, Ruth (Jennifer Connelly), sole survivor of the car crash that claimed his life.

For considerable periods, the filmmaker could be accused of dragging his heels. The more successful snail-paced scenes are those with specific purpose or consequence. To wit: A distant, quiet shot of a silhouetted Lee undressing, while Pollock observes from down the corridor. But others seem inconsequential: How many times must you watch the man moseying from place to place, staring at a canvas and so forth?

Although Harris displays basic filmmaking competence, he would do well to edit more liberally. Sequences outside the Long Island farmhouse and inside the grocery nudge the picture toward prime-time TV mode; cameras seem to be operating on autopilot. And it's fair to wonder why Lee is the only New Yorker with a distinct accent.

From his director's chair, Harris methodically dispenses bits of information about the abstract, progressive artist. In front of the lens, Harris seems right at home. An Oscar nominee previously for supporting turns in Apollo 13 and The Truman Show, he has no difficulty making the transition from moments of sullenness to inspiration. Perhaps most commendable is the believable sense of purpose, conviction and pride in defending his works of art. Harden, too, has undeniably earned an Oscar nod: The actress' most affecting piece comes when she succinctly asks Pollock for a commitment.

The movie is more than adequate technically, bolstered by Lisa Rinzler's (Three Seasons) exquisite photography and a mix of skittish, energetic musical stylings. Overall, Pollock boasts a painstakingly thorough evocation of time and place.

What's missing? More focus on the painter's background and his disturbing, imaginative mind. Penetrating exploration falls by the wayside, while theatrics and window dressing take hold. Although Harris' crafty and well-intentioned chronicle peels back layers of the nation's first "art star," Jackson Pollock's core--what made him tick and why--remains less palpable.

— Cox News Service