Film 2: Pollock

 Film 2:  Pollock

At the start of the film, the words spoken over Pollock’s painting seem to give us a window into how he views art—not as something clean or structured, but as something emotional and deeply personal. It feels like he’s saying that painting is more about expressing what’s going on inside of him than trying to show the outside world. Later, around the 2:50 mark, Pollock’s craft statement brings a different tone—here, he talks about the techniques he uses and how there’s actually a method behind all the chaos in his work. The contrast is pretty striking; the intro is more about the feeling, while the craft statement focuses on the practice.

Watching Pollock physically paint and hearing him talk adds a new layer to understanding his work. It’s not just about looking at a finished piece—it’s about seeing the action, the movement, and the intensity he brings to the canvas. You really start to feel how involved he was in the process, almost like the act of painting was part of the art itself.

It’s honestly kind of sad that these same films that documented his genius also played a role in his unraveling. The attention and fame they brought seemed to add pressure he wasn’t ready for. You can almost feel how fame pushed him to keep living up to the “genius artist” image, and that constant pressure took a toll on him mentally and emotionally. It’s a bittersweet situation—these films are valuable for understanding his art, but they also show how destructive that spotlight can be.

The film talks about “macho modernism” as this hyper-masculine, bold, and rebellious vibe that some mid-20th-century male artists embodied. For Pollock, it was all about raw emotion, physical energy, and rejecting anything that felt traditional or restrained. His style and persona gave off this "tough guy" artist image—unfiltered, emotionally intense, and totally immersed in his craft. Hemingway fits the same mold in literature; he wrote with simplicity, grit, and often focused on themes of struggle and masculinity.Other artists who had that same kind of vibe include Willem de Kooning and even someone like Bukowski in writing. Their work often feels heavy and aggressive, like they were battling something internally and using art to let it out. De Kooning’s brushstrokes, for example, have a kind of violence and urgency to them. Pollock’s tragic death almost feels like a dark example of this macho modernist image taken too far. His life was filled with chaos, addiction, and self-destruction—and in some ways, that seemed like a direct result of the “tortured genius” persona he was expected to live up to. It’s a painful reminder that embracing that kind of image without balance can have real consequences. Lee Krasner, his wife, was a powerful figure in her own right. She was also an artist, and she had to juggle her own career while managing life with Pollock. Despite everything, she stayed strong—she kept creating and eventually gained more recognition for her own work. Krasner’s ability to stay grounded and keep working through it all really shows how she coped in a world that often overlooked women and glorified destructive male genius.

This film mixes a lot of different elements to tell Pollock’s story. The interviews are one of the strongest parts—they include voices from people who knew him or studied his work, and that really helps us understand his mindset and legacy. Some of the clips of Pollock himself in action are also really powerful. Seeing him paint in real-time gives a sense of urgency and energy that you don’t get from looking at still images. That said, a few of the film segments could’ve used more explanation for viewers who aren’t already familiar with his techniques.

The photos, especially the ones taken by Krasner, show more sides of Pollock than just the artist. They capture him as a person—someone with moments of joy, pain, and confusion. They help humanize him. His paintings are obviously a huge part of the story, and the film does a good job showing how his style changed over time. I do think the film could have gone a little deeper into what those paintings meant symbolically.