"The Art of the Steal" is about not only the greatest art theft in the world, but probably the greatest crime ever committed. And at this point, let's define "greatest". In this sense, "great" means comparatively large in size or number, unusual or considerable in power or intensity, and of an extreme or notable degree. It does not mean wonderful, first-rate, or good. This theft wasn't even deemed a crime in the first place and was committed by mobsters, city of Philadelphia politicians, and educators.The documentary follows the story chronologically. It starts with Dr. Albert C. Barnes' educating himself about art and building an immense art collection. He's a good guy. He wanted to appreciate art for art's sake, not for its perceived value. He started the Barnes Foundation, complete with approximately $30 Billion dollars worth of art work by some of the world's most eminent painters. And, yes, that's Billion with a "B". The legal articles of incorporation for the Barnes Foundation made it very clear that this was a private, educational institution. Art students were encouraged to sign-up for classes or a visit. The "fat cats" of Philadelphia were not. The next part of the documentary was Barnes' death in 1951. It makes you gasp if you think about what could happen to the Foundation if he didn't adequately prepare for its life after his death. The story kept weaving its way through twist after twist and for somebody who is completely uneducated in art history, each point was more shocking than the one before.The good news is that Barnes' did adequately prepare the Foundation in the event of his death. He had a legal Will and Testament firmly in place. It was first left to his trusted friend, Violette de Mazia, and she did the best she could. Even in the event of her death, which happened in 1988, Barnes still had the legal ownership of the Foundation intact. The bad news is that greedy, manipulative people in power do not have to follow legal documents. To them the legal system is this little joke which they can just look down on and laugh at as they proceed to do the opposite of what was supposed to happen – legally and morally speaking that is."The Art of the Steal" is a great documentary because they even managed to get people like "educator" Richard Glanton, the Governor of Pennsylvania, the Mayor of Philadelpha, and a corrupt judge to speak in front of the camera admitting to what they did, in direct opposition to the law, completely nonchalant to their immoral actions. And the world just has to sit back and watch them commit the greatest crime ever.

While this is not always true, often you can tell a documentary is good because it has a strong visceral effect. As I watched "The Art of the Steal", I had this effect...in spades. And, like a good documentary, it definitely swayed me over to their cause. Convincing the viewer of a cause is definitely what this film does.The film is about the Barnes Foundation. I knew little about it other than my daughter ADORES the place and tried to take me their recently--only to learn its been closed while the collection is begin relocated...but I am getting ahead of myself...Dr. Albert C. Barnes was a very rich man who was one of the earliest collectors of Post-impressionist paintings. While museums were still emphasizing classical paintings, Barnes was snatching up Renoirs, Van Goghs and Cezannes in order to build a very, very strong collection. However, Barnes had an unusual vision. He wanted to create his foundation--sort of like an art school and art gallery. But, he disliked the traditional sort of museum and created a truly unique sort of gallery. And, when he died, he set up an extremely detailed trust that outlined exactly what would happen to his collection in perpetuity. The paintings, now seen as the preeminent collection in the world of its type, were not allowed to be sold, loaned out or moved in any way. Barnes wanted his collection to stay the way it was forever. And, considering it was his collection, he certainly had a right to this.The like of Barnes and creation of the Foundation is all discussed in the first portion of the documentary. What follows is a gradual erosion of the trust--how over the years folks have worked hard to break up or change Barnes' VERY specific and exceptionally clear instructions. First, there was a guy named Glanton. Being a lawyer, you know that he hasn't a soul. His aim was to exploit the collection--sending it on traveling exhibitions and raising money--things the charter forbade. I thoroughly disliked the man as portrayed in the film--especially since, unless it was misrepresented, he was a race-baiter who used ridiculous allegations of racism to bully the neighbors surrounding the Barnes. But, as it turned out, he was a downright saint compared to the folks who followed...and their plans were to pretty much destroy that which Barnes worked so hard to create.I guess my reason for such a strong visceral reaction is that the film made me mad. The notion that the government or a powerful city bullying and using lawsuits to get their way is un-American--or at least that's how it seems to me. If you want to see exactly why I became so infuriated, see the film. Perhaps you'll see the problems with the Barnes differently--as for me, I sure found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with the filmmakers.

"The Art of the Steal" follows the fate of The Barnes Collection, the most prestigious and valuable post-impressionist art collection in the world, tracing the battle between collector and museums over the course of 75 years. The origin of the collection is quite a story: Dr. Barnes, who had gained wealth in breakthrough scientific research, acquired some of the best modern paintings of the time by having something that museums and art critics of the time didn't have - taste and pure intuition. Over time, however, the artwork garnered the acclaim it deserved, but Barnes was determined to keep his collection private and have it appreciated by those who were willing to give the paintings the proper study they deserved. This belief became a trademark of his estate, but after Barnes' death and the passage of time, ownership of the collection became more and more blurry and penetrable to former enemies of Barnes, namely The Philadelphia Enquirer and The Philadelphia Art Museum, who wished to make the gallery public. After years of legal struggle (a series of back and forths the documentary covers to an almost painful degree), the city finally obtains it for a measly $107 million, a shadow to the estimated $25 billion the collection is worth.The documentary is very clear in pointing out that the fate of the collection is directly contrary to what Barnes had wished for it. In fact, everyone who has hands currently on the collection are the very people who opposed and battled the existence of the collection to begin with. What the documentary doesn't present very well is the passage of time - Barnes has been dead for nearly 60 years, and keeping the wishes of a dead man alive when that much money is at stake and ownership is juggled around naturally becomes a more and more difficult thing to do. What it effectively portrays is the tourist attraction that art has become, a cash cow to governments who have the opportunity to capitalize on it. Whether this is a travesty or not is up to debate, but what is certain is that the city of Philadelphia effectively stole the property of Barnes and mocked the idea of personal wealth. The overall outcome is that now the collection can be viewed by anyone and everyone publicly - a point that the documentary seems determined not to emphasize (one reason is probably because 90% of the interviewees were associated with or supported the original foundation.) As nothing more than a spectator, I'm personally excited that this legendary artwork will be on display for everyone to see for the first time, but being aware of the underbelly of politics behind the gallery makes the silver lining all the more bittersweet.

The scenario in brief: Albert C. Barnes is an idiosyncratic, but very wealthy man who has a good eye for art in the early 20th century and manages to snap up a large collection of post-impressionist paintings that becomes very important. Instead of opening this up to public view, he hides it away in a suburb on Pennsylvania, accessible only to a select elite. If we are to believe this documentary, his act of cultural kidnapping was founded on personal animosity towards the eminences running the public works in Pennsylvania in his day. Hardly an excellent reason to deprive the nation of the opportunity to view great works of art.But Barnes is not content with depriving his contemporaneous generation of these works and decides to drag his collection with him to the grave. He draws up an elaborate will that sets up a foundation that will keep the paintings sequestered away, mouldering under the gaze of small groups of specially-selected 'students'.The film covers the efforts made to wrest control of this vitally important collection away from a group of preppy blue-bloods who wanted to remain true to Barnes' exclusive vision. We are shown a series of sniffy elitist aristos whining as the barriers that Barnes set up are slowly broken down. We are told, in shocked tones, that one common gent decided to leave the exhibition after remarking that Reubens' paintings contained a lot of fat ladies (gasp! - the implication is clearly that mere commoners should not be allowed to view and pass judgement on these cultural fetishes).Finally, the Foundation teeters on bankruptcy and elected officials step in to ensure that the collection is maintained for the public good. In a final act of cultural vandalism they move it away from the tiny and vastly inappropriate secluded mansion Barnes provided and house it in a modern gallery where anyone can visit and enjoy these treasures. At this point the chosen talking heads erupt in a fury - the idea of common people leaving the imprint of their common eyeballs on work that should be restricted to the privileged elite is clearly beyond bearing.Make no mistake, the intent of this film is to argue the case for the Barnes elitists, and it spends a lot of time spewing rants about how evil it was to open up the collection. I knew very little of the Barnes Foundation before seeing it, but based solely on the information the film provided it is blatantly obvious that the terms of Barnes' legacy had to be overthrown.This art did not belong to Barnes, he only got to hold it for a while. This art belongs to the world, and the world finally has the chance to enjoy it.