If the canvases are bold, unpredictable, alarming, that's because the man himself is. And, again like Pollock's splatter technique, the focus may at first feel arbitrary but is anything but. Flash back to Greenwich Village in the early '40s and Pollock's early bouts with the bottle. It's Krasner who talks Pollock into moving to Long Island where, close to the soil, he is replenished and embarks upon his most productive period. Now, instead of painting, he uses the brush as a stick, to make splotches and wild, looping lines.
Family ties are important to Pollock.
Krasner screams in one of the high points. It consumes him, wrecks his relationships, shoves him into a suicidal tailspin. Harris the first-time director demonstrates the control and restraint we associate with great imports. Instead of calling attention to himself as budding auteur, he frequently holds back, allowing a scene a sometimes uncomfortable beat or two of real life. Often, just the movement of a paint-splattered boot is enough.