The film was released in 2006. Its unusually unremarkable title hardly captures the essence of the movie. At first, I thought I could compare it to something I had seen before, but then I realized that comparisons are futile. Attempting to compare this film is merely an acknowledgment of the extraordinary feelings it stirs in me, emotions I’ve already experienced while watching my favorite films — Twin Peaks, My Nights Are More Beautiful Than Your Days, Mulholland Drive.
And then, of course, Robert Downey Jr. is in it, someone I have particularly tender feelings for. But if it weren’t for him, neither the utterly meaningless title nor the film’s description — “about how Diane Arbus became a professional photographer” — would have caught my attention. It’s fascinating how the “magic of beloved actors” can affect us.
It’s hard to write about something awe-inspiring at the height of that very awe. The film is about a real photographer, with names unchanged. Reviews claim that it’s, after all, an exaggerated fantasy of what could have happened in Diane’s life. But I see it completely differently. For me, Fur is a delicate quintessence of Diane’s soul — which, without a doubt, was a very unusual one. Maybe none of this actually happened, but it’s equally possible that this or something similar was completely normal and familiar to Diane’s inner world.
The cinematography is stunning, and the story is mesmerizing. Some individual shots from the film could serve as magnificent photographs themselves, so we can judge the film’s beauty not only from the “inside,” but also from the “outside.” The incomparable Nicole Kidman, who I never particularly admired as a woman, is a magnificent actress and carries out her mission of revealing the secrets of Diane’s extraordinary soul with dignity. The film is very decent. I would say “decent” in English, despite the fact that it essentially tells the story of a “freak show.” More precisely, it is the story of the freak show of one soul. It includes nudism, prostitutes, transvestites, an affair, and suicide, yet after watching, there remains the feeling that (and in such cases, I love quoting Sasha Parushina) “you’ve just taken an incredible journey.”
We all love to spy. Some do it openly, some manage (or don’t manage) to subliminate this urge. But we are all voyeurs, studying the world. Diane was an open voyeur and showed the world what she saw through the viewfinder. And the film Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus is the story of a heart, a mad mind, a passion, secretly observed.
Diane also took her own life by drinking poison and, to make sure, slashing her wrists. This film is a must-see for the mentally disturbed, photographers, artists, cinephiles, and lovers of the extraordinary.