My Architect - 2003 - DVD

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

My Architect received a lot of praise following its release in 2003, including a nod for an Oscar nomination, but it falls surprisingly short of these expectations because it neglects to tell the most obvious and compelling story within it, the mystery of architect Louis Khan's professional and personal inspirations.

The documentary is directed by his son, Nathaniel Kahn, who is on a quest to figure out his identity by searching for details of his father's enigmatic past. Growing up, his father Louis was absent for extended periods of time, only reappearing in his mother's home sporadically without warning. Nathaniel learns later in his life that he has siblings from his father's two relationships external to the one among he and his mother.

The story begins with a lot of curiosity, and a lot of sincerity for his father's architectual contributions, but as the minutes pass the curiousity turns impatient with (I dare say) a touch of self-pity. He approaches subjects who knew his father with a subtle bitterness that borders on contempt, as if these people are keeping the truth of his past from him on purpose. The fact of the matter is that no one truly knew his father, or what he expected to gain from his fractured personal relationships. It is perfectly honest and reasonable of Kahn's son to be curious about these questions ("Who am I?"), but he asks them in such a confrontational way so as to put up an affront.

The most interesting parts of the movie take place with the stock footage of his father, both at work and in conversation with collegues. A string of influential architects are interviewed for the film, each of whom are living pieces of architectual history; architects like Frank O. Gehry and I.M. Pei are interviewed, but are never referenced in regard to the meaning and influence of Kahn's work. Nathaniel uses them to explore pieces of himself, but without a finite answer he exhausts himself. There is one particularly nerve-grating scene at the end of the film in which Nathaniel grills his mother for answers to more of his questions. The poor lady stands there, on the verge of tears, unable to satisfy him, and he holds the camera on her--he won't let us look away, he won't leave her alone.

I wished for a deeper exploration of Louis Kahn's work; I wanted longer scenes that threw perspective upon the architect's structural designs, and a deconstruction of how his work influenced architectual history and form, all of which could have been discussed with Nathaniel's fantastic list of connections in the industry. It seems the answers to his personal questions could have been answered with a lively discussion of the above factors, it would at least have given him something more to think about, and maybe interject himself into. Perhaps he could find meaning there.