accessAtlanta

'Sketches of Frank Gehry' captures the architect's importance

America's reigning architect, Frank Gehry, makes sculptural buildings that shimmy, swoop and crumple, but ultimately cohere into elegant icons such as the Guggenheim Bilbao and Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles. "Sketches of Frank Gehry" is as fascinating and faceted as its subject.

Sony Pictures Classics 'Sketches of Frank Gehry' A- The verdict: An insightful portrait of an architect who is an artist. Director: Sidney Pollack Cast: Frank Gehry Run time: 90 minutes Release date: May 12, 2006 Rating: PG-13 for brief strong language. See showtimes On the web Official movie site View the trailer    Trailers require Quicktime Rate 'Sketches of Frank Gehry'   Go see it   Make it a matinee   Wait to rent   Don't bother Voter Limit: Once per Hour View Poll Results

Sydney Pollack's first feature-length documentary is a multi-layered film: a portrait of the man, a paean to his architecture, a peek into his creative process. Despite abundant interviews with friends (mostly artists), clients, curators, a detractor (critic Hal Foster), even the architect's shrink, the film is presented as a conversation between Gehry and the director, who are longtime friends. Pollack does not remain off-screen like most documentarians. We see him chatting with Gehry and shooting scenes of interest with his mini-cam. (Both film and video are used.) Shooting the shooter is a bit affected, but the relaxed intimacy that comes with friendship is a gift.

Gehry, 77, is more open than one might expect. The Canadian-born designer shares personal information such as his name change from Goldberg to Gehry, the humiliation of a teacher advising him to quit architecture, and his early bankruptcy. He and others describe his anger and frustration that his profession did not take him seriously during his first two decades of practice, after which recognition finally came. He also reveals that ambition and a fiercely competitive spirit lurk beneath his shambling, Columbo persona.

The core of the film, however, is the insight into Gehry's creative process. Like the artists who accepted him before the architecture world did, Gehry is open to anything that feeds his spirit, be it a curve in a Hieronymus Bosch painting or the chain-link fence of a construction site.

His distinctive initial sketches — what one client called "his little squibbles" — are the first incarnation of his architectural ideas. Surprisingly, these quivery, seemingly ad hoc lines are remarkably close in spirit to the actual building. Gehry, who uses models to get the proportions and details right, kibitzes as a partner cuts paper, maybe pleats it like an accordion and tapes it to the cardboard structure. These romper-room exercises keep the playful movements of the sketch alive. Only afterwards does the design become plans and elevations — executed by the employees in his computer labs through CATIA, a three-dimensional program used by Boeing and Chrysler.

Pollack lovingly photographs 16 of Gehry's projects, including a hay barn, his first job; his pink Santa Monica bungalow, which was his laboratory for many years; and the masterful Guggenheim Bilbao. The camera lingers on their graceful lines, their surprising curves, the light shimmering on titanium panels — proving why Gehry is considered the most important architect of his generation.