Thurs-Sun July 17-20 at the Little Theatre.
For 30 years, Shelby Lee Adams has photographed the mountain people of eastern Kentucky, earning art-world fame and fortune with portraits capturing the raw poetry of impoverished Appalachian life. Adams' starkly gorgeous photos abound with what have come to be Appalachian icons--pipe-smoking grannies with busted screen doors, inbred children flashing toothless smiles, snake-handlers passing jars of strychnine. But as Jennifer Baichwal's The True Meaning of Pictures posits with the blustery indignation of a film-studies freshman, one person's iconic image is another person's stereotype, and Baichwal's earnest documentary aims to explore divisive turf shared and straddled by art and cultural politics.
Defending the "Adams is an artist" position is a handful of art-world experts--gallery owners, critics, and Mary Ellen Mark, who praises Adams' impeccable control and technique. All praise of Adams' work is supported by photographic evidence--extended stills of stunningly beautiful Adams photos, uncannily well-composed and capturing varying degrees of raw life and human desolation.
Supporting the "Adams is an exploiter" argument is--the problem. The best the documentary can offer comes from the distressingly mealy mouth of a Southern academic, who barely manages to get himself riled up over the perceived "perpetuation of stereotypes" and exploitation of a misunderstood people by Adams. So airy are the arguments against Adams that the film nearly sinks from lack of substance. Rich questions abound: Does Adams' purchase and delivery of the hog used in the "hillbilly hog-slaughter" shoot irreparably skew all notions of "reality"? Is photographing a mountain man making moonshine tantamount to photographing a black man hugging a watermelon? Isn't it common decency to tell a guy you're about to photograph to zip his fly?
Unfortunately, these questions remain unasked and unanswered, as the film dithers with an art vs. politics argument that will seem remedial to anyone with a glancing interest in contemporary culture. Lucky for the film and the audience, The True Meaning of Pictures stays afloat on the power of Adams' "controversial" photos (the cumulative minutes the audience spends looking at Adams' stills are the richest of the film), as well as the inherent interest of pointing a camera--photo or video--at interesting people. Baichwal's goodhearted documentary would make a perfectly fine hour on PBS, but simply lacks the substance to support a feature-length film.
Yummy sponsorship alert: All 7 pm screenings Fri-Sun feature complimentary servings of Ezell's Famous Chicken and mashed potatoes. Get there early and chow down.
