A while back a story appeared about an art forger who'd pulled the proverbial wool over hundreds of art curator's eyes over a time period spanning several decades. The forger, Mark Landis, had been exposed, was still at it, and no legal body could jail him or force him to cease and desist because no transaction took place; Landis donated his forgeries, dressing up the con with a superbly crafted narrative about family inheritance, blue blooded ancestors wishing to give charitably to museums, and in many cases disguising himself as a (freakin!) priest to sell the lie. A fabulous moment in Art and Craft shows Landis blessing a passerby. We laugh and laugh some more. Anyway........cut to Brooklyn and a group (Sam Cullman, Mark Becker, Jennifer Grausman) of indie doc makers. There begins the longitudinal filmmaking process spanning - I believe - nearly three years. The resulting film, Art and Craft, is a must see. Mark Landis, as we learn, has some baggage. Raised by parents who pretty much left him alone (though he professes a deep love for his recently deceased mom), little Mark stays home copying stuff. He takes to it rather quickly, earning praise and soon comes to the realization that he's found his calling. Decades go by and Landis the adult is still by his bedside mimicking small format European paintings, except now he suits up, puts the fake in a briefcase, drives to the mark, and does the most incredible soft sell one two shuffle I think I've ever seen on screen. So believable is the con that even when Landis momentarily blows it ("it was my sister's, no my mother's") the mark buys the lie. Cut to the cop. A museum registrar by the name of Leininger gets hip to Landis's con and makes it his life's mission to take him down. Emails fly, phones ring, Leininger loses his job, the press and authorities are alerted...all to no avail because there's no there, there. No one's breaking any laws (see above). And yet we can't stop watching. The futility of the chase, the masterful forgeries, the Golum-like face Landis bears, his ridiculously large ears, his sweet and gentle demeanor. This is a film that so expertly draws you in that you almost feel conned yourself. Is there really a story here? Was it enlarged into something from nothing? After all, what's a little forgery now and then? In the end this IS indeed a hell of yarn. I'm not going into the larger questions of art versus reality. Why bother? We know the debate. What I'll say is that Landis insists he's no artist, but rather a craftsman (see title of film). This humility so endears us to this very odd man that we - perhaps at our peril - want to be his friend. And so we watch. Landis is the ultimate loner. He cannot be social without being awkward, but when he's in the middle of a con he is the most social animal you'll ever meet. Just like his art (and it is art, I insist) we believe what we want to believe, not what the truth tells us. The filmmakers had unbelievable access into this man's life. Footage of Landis at work in his er...well worn...apartment with a television playing reruns of I Love Lucy shows us a man who has figured out what works for him, though you and I might call it depression, to him it's a form of bliss. No, Landis is not depressive. He's just one more variation in the myriad variety of humans out there. Want an example of his sanity? Watch him recreate a sketch stroke for stroke, alternately flipping between a photo of the original and his fake and see what illusions he crafts. Watch him photocopy art from books, age them with God knows what, buy a frame at Hobby Lobby, stain the back with coffee, and deliver the goods. Want to know how it ends? See the film. Trust me. No, really.
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