Art School CONFIDENTIAL
Director Terry Zwigoff of Bad Santa fame teems up again with writer and underground comic creator Daniel Clowes (Ghost World) in their latest film, Art School Confidential, which has the duo painting a cynical parody of artists everywhere.  But, unlike Bad Santa, Art School doesn’t let you fully experience the bottomless self-loathing of its protagonist.  Instead, the film stays lost in the very thing it mocks, the only thing an artist every really cares about – that moment of narcotic creative bliss which never lasts long enough to become anything more than a cheap high.   Zwygoff, who is “attracted to characters outside of the mainstream,” adds yet another oddball character to his collection in Art School with a “normal” protagonist drowning in a sea of eccentricity.  Jerome decides to escape the suburbs of his disenfranchised youth by enrolling in an east cost art school, The Strathmore Institute, after drooling over the body model he sees in the brochure.  Even though his main goal in life is to become “the greatest artist of the 21^st century,” we soon learn that his fate parallels the bizarre insanity of Van Gough more that it resembles the success of Jerome’s hero Picasso.  Once at school, Jerome latches on to eternal student Bardo (Joel David Moore) who is intrigued with Jerome because he is too “normal” to fit into any of the other typical art student niches.  Bardo introduces Jerome to Jimmy (Jim Broadbent), a former artist who spends the majority of his time wallowing in alcohol and self-pity; and, before too long, Jerome falls for the body model he saw in Strathmore’s brochure, Audrey (Sophia Myles).  Once the stereotypes are introduced, Art School falls flat on its face in the bowels of its second act.  Being the self-depreciating protagonist that he is, Jerome completely misses the mark when Audrey hits on him, she turns her attention to pretty-boy jock Jonah (Matt Keeslar), heartbroken Jerome starts turning in Jimmy’s work in place of his own, and we’re left wondering why in the hell a serial killer is lurking around an art school comedy.  Huh?  But, just when you think Art School is about to spin itself into a narrative oblivion, it finally pulls itself together at the end by returning to the sharp satirical wit that opens the film.
At first, Art School seems to be just one big caricature gallery with its egotistical professor (John Malkovich) trapped in his teaching gig, his annoying kiss-ass, a fashion designer still trapped in the closet, the eternal student / resident wise-ass on the 7-year program, a geriatric horny nude body model, an angry lesbian, and a Spielberg wannabe (Ethan Suplee).
Yet, in gleefully thumbing their noses at the very industry they love to mock, Zwygoff and Clowes turn Art School into one of them there “smart films” by using biting, edgy wit to define the hypocrisy of nihilistic art which deems Kindergarten-level work as “genius” and exonerates fame in infamy.  However, because the majority of the film is spent making fun of the ridiculously pretentious art “experts” instead of constructing the other plot lines outside of the art world into some sort of tangible hijinx, Art School becomes its own series of inside joke for artists instead of a story about Jerome’s first year in art school.  In this inane assortment of sub-genres (comedy, coming-of-age, romance, social commentary, and semi-mystery) Clowes neither explains nor utilizes the love triangle between Jerome, Audrey, and Jonah to its extent.  We are not allowed to understand her reasoning for dumping Jerome one minute and hooking up with Jonah the next.  Another garbled and fragmented subplot is that serial killer who’s running around campus posing his victims like a type of “postmortem” art.  Because we are able to identify the killer early on in the film, no sense of danger ever exists; and, the entire storyline is played off as an annoying and ridiculous campy sidebar diversion from the art slander.  Can anyone say, “MacGuffin?”
image courtesy of United Artists	Overall, the film’s cynical satire depicting the hypocrisy of the art world and its stereotypes is dead-on and downright hilarious.  However, where it needs strengthening is in its narrative structure.  I just don’t see Art School Confidential having the same mass appeal or commercial success as Zwygoff’s previous homage to the anti-Christmas faction.  Everyone knows Santa – not everyone can be an artist.  © Kelly Bartley 2006