“Ai Weiwei: The Fake Case,” another documentary — one comes out every few months, it seems — about the controversial Chinese artist, opens with the oft repeated quote from Pablo Picasso stating that the purpose of art is not to decorate apartments but to act as an instrument of war. It’s always been a funny quote to me because, “Guernica” aside, for most people Picasso is not thought of a political artist and his words here strike as grandstanding. But maybe in the context of Ai Weiwei, a dissident artist who has repeatedly been forced into silence by the Chinese government, it makes more sense. Or does it?
Forgetting the question of whether or not we need another film about the artist that offers very little new information or insight, there is an equally pertinent question: Is Ai a political artist? While the oppression he faces is unjust and should be fought against, maybe a more nuanced question would be: What does it mean when a political artist is not just making art in response to the world around him but is actively prodding the authorities? Is there a difference between a provocateur and a political artist when the oppression is the same?
None of these questions are even asked in “Ai Weiwei: The Fake Case,” a rote informational documentary that tracks the current legal rigmarole the artist is facing. The film details the way the Chinese government is systematically attempting to stop Ai from making art, focusing on the bogus charges of tax evasion that have been brought up against him. The case at the film’s center is confusing, and very few specific details are given here — at least not enough for the average viewer to understand its nuances.
That’s because the lawsuit is not really what the film is interested in. Instead, we’re presented with a trivial and convoluted meditation of the nature of truth (in a funny twist, the target of the fake lawsuit is Ai’s company, coincidentally named Fake). “It’s a fake case,” the artist says toward the end of the film. “It’s a fake case about a Fake company. But the Fake company is a real company. The Fake case is a real case, but it’s fake, it’s fabricated.”
While that works as a witty logline, it can’t sustain an entire movie. During the screening I attended, I couldn’t help but notice details left unexplained that would have prompted more interesting questions, such as the constant surveillance of Ai Weiwei. News cameras, government cameras, personal cameras, and outside documentary crews — every moment of the artist’s life is covered through recorded images. Are the media, even his own staff of collaborators, contributing to the oppression by simply never giving him a moment of peace? Or, as it certainly seems according to this film and others, does Ai Weiwei’s approval, even participation, of this mode of living, create a whole new form of oppression that he or we fail to recognize? I guess we’ll leave those questions for the next documentary.
“Ai Weiwei: The Fake Case” opens at the IFC Center in New York on May 16.
