Everybody has an opinion about Banksy.
From the highest brow art dealer to the casual graffiti appreciator, anyone can tell you that Banksy a genius who uses his medium as a tool for political and social diversion. Or that he’s a low-brow hack who uses the methods of Warhol without the genius to understand why. But, regardless of what you think about him (or they or it or whatever the Banksy machine actually is), a Banksy is worth millions and probably the only street artists who’s a household name the world over.
But back in 2004, asking the average person what they thought about Banksy would have gotten you nothing more than a strange look; back in 2004, Banksy wasn’t yet bankable, only known and respected by the coolest of the cool, not your uncle who thought Exit Through the Gift Shop was a pretty good movie.
Enter Andy Link. Link had bounced around a lot in his life: at one point he was a porn star; then, an acid raver responsible for one of the largest mass arrests in England thanks to a party he organized. Essentially, he gravitated towards occupations where he was at the center of attention. So, it’s no surprise that one fateful night in 2004 Link found himself at a party thrown by Banksy (to be attended by the coolest of the cool, of course) showcasing his newest art. So, Link approaches the merch table and sees two stacks of prints for sale: one stack contains unsigned prints for £75; the other, signed prints for £150. Thinking it’d be cooler (and cheaper) to buy an unsigned print and ask a mutual friend to get Bansky to sign it personally, Link plops down his 75 quid. Print in hand, Link approach said friend, who then goes off to the artist, who sends back a message: “If you wanted a signed print, you should have paid the one-fifty.” This, in turn, starts a war.
But the thing about this war is: no one cares. Except Andy Link.
Andy Link, in his latest career shift, has started his own organization: an “arto-politikal” organization called Art Kieda — an “art terrorist” group as likes to call it. What does this mean exactly? Well, Link, who primarily goes by his pseudonym of AK-47, and his merry band of terrorists steal art and… give it back. The idea is that art is inherently rebellion. Now, Andy’s been rebelling all his life (he’s been a porn star, an acid distributor, you name it), so he’s always been an artist (he says). And what could be more artistic than rebelling against the art establishment that has become complacent?
When did he get this idea? Well, when Banksy refused to sign his print. So, Andy calls a couple friends and puts together a plan to steal a Banksy statue in the middle of rush hour. Why? For a money ransom, a little getting back at Banksy for not signing. This sparks the aforementioned “war”, which, as it turns out, is a bit of a one-sided effort.
The story The Banksy Job is long, winding, a just little weird. Most of all, it’s fascinating. It’s not so much the story of a caper but the story of AK-47, who comes across as something of an egoist whose past vacillation between high-profile jobs and current headline-grabbing thievery in the name of art is just his latest form of self-validation. What he views as a grand movement in Art Kieda (wonderfully illustrated by elaborate reenactments of 47’s grand vision — warehouses full of lackeys in gas masks brandishing… AK-47s) is seen as admirable tenacity, obnoxious pestering, or just childish by the friends and art collectors interviewed for the film.
That’s not to say the film makes Link look a fool. Far from it. In fact, it’s a more unbiased character study that lets its subject take the mic, tailoring itself as needed per the results through reenactments that show the world as Andy sees it. Consequently, it’s all shot and paced like a heist picture, with all the appropriate slickness that entails, which makes for an entertaining caper tale. The filmmakers don’t seem to put any particular bias on their portrayal of Andy, no judgement. Which is a good thing. Plenty of the interviewees do that for us.
Rather, we are invited to take what we see and draw our own conclusions, both about Andy and about the film itself. On the surface, we are treated to a slick true-crime story with a colorful cast of characters; dig a little deeper and we find a complex study in desperation.