Paint (2023)

Paint review by Mark McPherson - Cinema Paradiso

There’s an off-putting nature to how this dry comedy attempts to satirize the media obsession over Bob Ross. Perhaps it’s because the true story behind Bob Ross is tragic, where the prolific painter on TV painted himself to the grave while vultures took advantage of his rights as intellectual property. Knowing this, it becomes hard to accept the premise of Paint’s diva depiction of the painter, primarily when delivered with a dryness that feels like a knock-off Wes Anderson clone.

The best that can be said of the film is that Owen Wilson commits himself to the role of Carl Nargle. He dons the afro and puts on a mildly amusing soft voice to watch as he passive-aggressively asserts his celebrity status. Having garnered the popularity of artists and old people, his PBS infamy has made him highly protective and weird about his relationships. He refuses the approval of his true love, Katherine (Michaela Watkins), and takes little heed of the requests of station manager Tony (Stephen Root). All of that changes with a younger artist called Ambrosia (Ciara Renée), who starts soaring in the ratings, revealing the repetitive nature of Carl’s aging techniques.

Carl's rise and fall are treated with an absurdity that wears thin over its 96 minutes. There are some funny bits to his character, such as when he whispers through a megaphone attached to his car and continues to paint the same landscapes repeatedly. But for as silly as it is that Carl is trapped in a career where he can’t stop painting Mount Mansfield, it’s a bit that is more funny in theory than practice. It always feels like the film is close to striking some comedy gold, but it dampens the tone quickly before Wilson’s voice goes any higher. Consider the funniest moment in the film when Carl and Ambrosia square off in a telethon portrait painting duel. The joke is that Carl can’t do portraits and paints another landscape. The confirmation by the producers of this being a repeat drawing feels like handholding, and Carl’s apology for paying his displeased customer feels lacking.

The film's heart also feels turned too far down to feel anything beyond surface-level tenderness for fallen artists realizing the error of their ways. The romance between Carl and Katherine seems to be born more out of pathos than genuine attraction. It isn’t until the film’s final act that some heartstrings feel at least graced. Even worse, the ultimate resolve of the film seems to highlight the notion that artists are more critically dead than alive. While there’s some truth to that with the iconography of Bob Ross, the bittersweet finale rings hollow for what was likely meant to be about refinement and placing the past behind yourself.

Despite the comedic backup from the talents of Wendi McLendon-Covey and Stephen Root, Paint only feels like half a picture for trying to find the funny in the dull. A tale like this requires more than a believable dose of deadpan PBS satire or a parody version of Bob Ross. Part of me believes this film was made because Owen Wilson does a pretty good Bob Ross. But instead of using that idea for a decent Funny Or Die sketch, this film uses that gimmick until the paint dries on the brush, relying on the faintest of comedic touches to carry this gimmick to feature length.