What happens when elusive British street artist Banksy launches a one-month residency on the streets of New York City? And creates a new work each day, revealing its location only on his website? A contemporary, city-wide treasure hunt. 31 days, 31 artworks (or 30, to be more precise as ‘police activity’ prevents one reveal).
It’s interesting stuff as we watch the hysteria on the street trying to get to the work before they’re eradicated, tagged or stolen. We follow newscasts, gallery owners, art critics, street artists, fans and others around the city.
But whilst sporadically funny, and occasionally very funny, the documentary runs out of steam – how many times can we watch the same couple desperately trying to get to Queens or SoHo or Harlem or Lower East Side?
Five years ago one of the best documentaries about art practice, Exit Through the Gift Shop, introduced street artist Banksy to a wide public. Oscar-nominated, that particular film was about art production. The latest Banksy expose is a film about art consumption – and it’s ultimately less interesting for it.