Pablo Picasso once said that “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” Ushio Shinohara, the subject of debut filmmaker Zachary Heinzerling’s documentary Cutie and the Boxer, has solved this problem and is still producing art well into the 9th decade of his life. “The Boxer” of the film’s title, Shinohara’s work consists of canvases that have been pummelled with paint-covered boxing gloves. A documentary is only as good as its subject and, while Shinohara’s work is interesting, it is in the relationship between himself and his wife Noriko (also an artist) where this film truly comes alive.
In the 1960s, Noriko was a 19 year old Japanese art student who travelled to New York and fell in love with the already-established Ushio Shinohara, 41. The heavy-drinking Ushio lived a rock and roll lifestyle and the two shortly married after finding out Noriko was pregnant. For Cutie and the Boxer, director Zachary Heinzerling spent five years filming the Shinoharas in their dilapidated Manhattan apartment, observing mundane day-to-day activities and the artists’ struggle to pay their rent each month, compiling a story that shows the couple striving to be accepted as individual artists. Heinzerling originally set out to profile just Ushio but in the process found that it was Noriko’s story that was far more compelling.
Noriko’s story is often tragic. She has spent her life living in Ushio’s shadow and longs to be recognised on her own merits. “The average one has to has to support the genius” she says as she diligently follows her husband around, cooking and cleaning for the now ex-alcoholic. Noriko’s art tells of the story of Cutie and Bully, a comic retelling of her own life, no prizes for guessing who Bully is supposed to be. Heinzerling has brilliantly taken the decision to animate Noriko’s art and couple it with her narration to tell the couple’s backstory. It is a moment of pure inspiration that adds a vast amount of depth to the film. Through Cutie she is able to tell her tale in a way that is absurd and whimsical, while still retaining its tragedy.
The film opens with a stunning shot of Ushio creating one of his works. The octogenarian dons his boxing gloves before dipping them in paint. He then proceeds to jab, hook, and uppercut his way across the canvas, from right to left, stopping only momentarily to re-apply paint to his gloves. His work conveys a youthful exuberance but the artist dramatically tires as he makes his way across the canvas, showing his age. You may not be a fan of the final product but the process is astonishing.
Heinzerling spent five years filming the Shinoharas but only used footage from the last year and a half. This time spent with the couple was vital though, as the director has built up an incredibly strong rapport, allowing them to open up. We are able to see their squabbles and bickering in a natural way that few outside of their social circle are probably ever able to see. In blending documentary and narrative styles, Heinzerling has created a stunningly in-depth look into the ups and downs of this fascinating couple’s life.
[Rating:4/5]
