Walking on Water

Curiously artless for a movie about the art world.

The film does what it apparently sets out to do, which is to give some account of two statements Christo makes to a group of schoolchildren early on in the proceedings: "I love real things," and, "When you are an artist, you are all the time artist."

There's some dry in "Walking on Water," though not much. There's a fair amount of wet. As for joy, that there is in abundance.

Rather than focus on the engineering and logistics of "Piers," which actually sound really intriguing, the filmmaker trains his camera on general bickering and whining instead to an almost unpleasant degree.

It's still possible to gasp at what is shown us in Walking on Water, if only from a logistical standpoint. The massive planning required for such a project is revealed in mind-numbing detail.

It is when Paounov reveals Christo's leonine qualities that "Walking on Water" achieves a rare authenticity.

Fitting with Christo's proclamation, the documentary is not just an account of the creation of one work, but a glimpse into the creative madness of living a life that is entirely devoted to art.

"There's not moment you are not an artist," Christo says. It also appears there is no moment when Christo isn't an overbearing ass.

Intimate portrait of a combative artist at work, but so straightforward as to be the very definition of "documentary."

Director Andrey Paounov's documentary falls short...we don't get much by way of explanation about how all this was done, how materials were selected -- and in some cases -- even what materials were used.