The Eames Documentary

Six years ago, I discovered that Netflix had a series of dvds called, “The Films of Charles and Ray Eames.” Charles and Ray Eames were husband and wife artists/designers who occupied a studio/workshop in Venice, California in the 1940’s-1980’s. Charles passed away in 1978 and Ray passed away in 1988. I rented Disc 1 of this 6-disc series six years ago and watched a short film called, “901: After 45 Years of Working.” This 30 minute film was a filmed collage of many of the designs, paintings, drawings, and pieces of furniture Charles and Ray Eames had made over 45 years of working at their craft. The film was set to some great calliope music, which served to make this short film memorable and added a lot to this film. I discovered that the breadth of their work was vast and impressive.
The documentary, “Eames: The Architect and the Painter,” provides some interesting background information on Charles and Ray. They moved from Michigan to California in the early 1940’s. We learn that Charles Eames was primarily a furniture designer. In 1956, he designed what is known as the Eames lounge chair. He designed many other now-commonly used and recognized pieces of furniture. He was also a filmmaker. According to hermanmiller.com, “With a grand sense of adventure, Charles and Ray Eames turned their curiosity and boundless enthusiasm into creations that established them as a truly great husband-and-wife design team. Their unique synergy led to a whole new look in furniture. Lean and modern. Playful and functional. Sleek, sophisticated, and beautifully simple. That was and is the "Eames look."
Like a lot of modern-day documentaries, especially the mass-produced, sloppily made hour-long ones on The History Channel, The Discovery Channel, and TLC (unfortunately, now oxymoronically known as The Learning Channel), “Eames: the Architect and the Painter” tends to lean towards the “dramatic negative,” a tactic that many, ahem, documentaries tend to direct themselves to these days. There are very few straight forward documentaries made any more. Some examples of outstanding documentaries of the past are “Brother’s Keeper,” “Private Practices: the Story of a Sex Surrogate,” “Paradise Lost,” “Grizzly Man,” “Capturing the Friedmans,” and “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.” Even some of the better ones from recent years stray a bit towards developing a dramatic storyline within their frame, such as “King of Kong” and “Darkon.” It is as if either documentarians or the studios that finance documentaries do not think that modern audiences can stomach a documentary as that form of filmmaking used to be known. Perhaps they are correct. A film like Kirby Dick’s “Private Practices: the Story of a Sex Surrogate” is a serious documentary about a female therapist who helps men who have a variety of sexual hang-ups or difficulties, whether those problems be mental or physical. In the film, the subject matter and the people in the film are taken very seriously and their problems are dealt with in an adult manner. Even though “Private Practices” was made in 1983, it is difficult for me to believe that a documentary about such subject matter would be handled with as much grace and dignity today. Instead, instances of “dramatic negatives” would be introduced, rendering the film much less than it could have been. Even in the dvd commentary track of “Private Practices,” which was recorded in 2006, the moderator of the track has a difficult time staying on track and references some of the participants in the documentary as strange or weird. At one point, the filmmaker asks the moderator what is so strange about what they are watching. “Private Practices” is a very frank film. How else, though, would one suggest a documentary about such subject matter be made?

“Eames: the Architect and the Painter” tempts fate a bit too much by introducing what are meant to be dramatic storylines into the framework of what could have been an outstanding documentary. It is a decent enough film, however, too many times during the course of the film, the private lives of the Eameses are dwelled upon. The fact that a married couple, even one as creative and prolific as Charles and Ray Eames had difficulties in their marriage is neither interesting nor worthy of inclusion. I was hoping for more of an in-depth look at their art---their films, furniture, architecture, the toys they made, etc. Instead, too little of the documentary is devoted to their creativity. The film is only 90 minutes, so to devote a majority of the film to their private lives is a mistake. Rent some of the Eames Films discs on Netflix and you will discover what talent the two had.
I am not into watching films that stir up negative emotions so as to draw in an audience. A more straight-forward documentary about the work of Charles and Ray Eames could have been made, however, this, unfortunately missed the chance to do so. It is as if not enough time was taken to research more of their artwork when focusing on their shaky marriage was an easier task for the filmmakers. Perhaps, the filmmakers were encouraged to focus on more simpler subjects as perhaps the producers felt that a documentary about art may have bored the audience. I hope this was not the case. "Eames: The Artist and the Painter" originally aired on the PBS series, "American Masters," so I would hope that PBS is still as high-minded as I remember them being when I was a kid, not that I am terribly high-mined, but at least they held down a place of high-mindedness for me and my uncivilized brethren.
If you are interested in the art and films of Charles and Ray Eames, this documentary is not a complete waste of your time. It is worth 90 minutes,however, I would encourage you to watch those Eames films discs that are available on Netflix. The documentary, "Eames: The Architect and the Painter" is available on Instant Streaming through Netflix, however, the 2000 collection of short films is not.