Review: Finding Vivian Maier

[Grade: B] Vivian Maier might have been one of the 20th century's most celebrated photographers, had anyone known she was taking pictures.

CAMERA SHY: The subject of a new documentary, Vivian Maier shot over 100,000 photographs, but her work only came to light shortly before her death.

City Paper grade: B

Likened by no less than photographer Mary Ellen Mark to “Robert Frank with a square format,” Vivian Maier might have been one of the 20th century’s most celebrated photographers, had anyone known she was taking pictures. Working mostly as a nanny for well-off Chicago families, though apparently never for more than a few years, Maier’s interest in her Rolleiflex wasn’t exactly a secret, but to those who knew her almost never well, it seemed more like a peculiarity than a vocation. It wasn’t until amateur archivist John Maloof stumbled upon a box of her negatives in an auction shortly before her 2009 death that her images came to light, prompting what would be a massive reconsideration, had her work been considered in the first place.

That’s part of the story of Finding Vivian Maier, the documentary co-directed by Maloof and Charlie Siskel — the inspiring part, and also the easy part. Maier’s images, at least the tiny fraction of the 100,000-plus we see, are indeed striking, powerfully beautiful and lonely shots of street life that not only merit but profit from comparisons to Diane Arbus, Henri Cartier-Bresson and especially Helen Levitt. But times being what they are, the story can’t stop there, even if it should. Pushed onward by an obsession that the movie depicts but never interrogates, Maloof starts digging into Maier’s deeply private life, which she purposefully hid from even the few she let get close, showing that Her penchant for collecting well-chosen, artfully framed images was mirrored by less disciplined pack-rat tendencies, including, near the end, piling up stacks of newspapers so high they warped the floor beneath them. she took on assumed names and a contrived accent, hid her body inside loose-fitting clothing and stole photographs with a camera that let her get right next to people without them knowing they were being observed.

The movie also presents evidence that Maier was abused as a child, and reciprocated the abuse as an adult, at which point it becomes necessary to ask whether the movie is presenting this information because it’s relevant or simply because it can. Unsurprisingly, it’s not a question Maloof or his co-director are inclined to ask themselves, which gives the movie the sour aftertaste of an advertisement disguised as art. As the owner of Maier’s images, Maloof obviously stands to profit from their increased reputation, as well as the image of himself as a lone crusader circumventing the stuffy gatekeepers of the art-world establishment. The latter may be a fair characterization, but it would take a more inquisitive movie to put it to the test.