I’m Banksy

That’s what Justin Timberlake said at the Oscars. I was quite surprised at the time, remembering years ago when the name ‘Banksy’ was just a whisper heard on the streets of London, and now he was being referenced in a joke on one of the biggest international stages the world has to offer. I was pretty much clueless as to the events that have transpired between those two states of his notoriety – from unknown to infamous, all the while remaining a ghost. Then I saw Exit Through the Gift Shop and all that changed.

It’s documented history so there should be no need to warn for spoilers. That’s like asking someone to keep it on the quiet about who won the war of 1812 because you still haven’t got to that part in the book. But it’s a powerful movie that narrates events in such a way that it delivers a pretty shocking twist towards the end, so if you haven’t seen it yet then you might wanna quit reading now, watch it first and allow Banksy the chance to tell you it how he wanted.

I’m a huge fan of Banksy’s art and have owned a copy of Wall and Piece for a good five years, and to this day still have it close at hand and often find myself flicking through its pages for entertainment and inspiration. But yet I haven’t really followed much about his rise to infamy, and I wasn’t aware of society’s recognition of street art as a legitimate contemporary art movement. For me, watching Exit Through the Gift Shop was like that scene in The Matrix when Trinity gets uploaded into her brain the necessary information to pilot a certain helicopter. It took 90 minutes rather than mere seconds, but when that movie was done it had successfully uploaded into my brain an intimate history of how it came about that the whole world was able to laugh along to a joke referencing a once unknown street vandal from Bristol. And what a beautiful story it is, and incredibly fascinating.

As well as thoroughly enjoying it I was stunned to see the events as they unfolded, shocked as I watched the tale steer from being a documented account of contemporary street artists and their mediums evolution during the early 21st century, to one which shows us how easily Mr Brainwash has taken the total piss out of all those around him. He somehow managed to make everyone look like a fool – the street artists, the collectors of contemporary art, the general public, and even the art world as a whole.

And then I was left wondering if I’m in fact the fool? It’s almost too perfect. It’s all just too brilliant and it’s too intriguing and it’s just too damn perfect.

Is it possible that they just made this whole magical story up? That they have fabricated the whole thing out of thin air? I believe that these street artists have the talent and originality to concoct this outrageous hoax, and they definitely have balls big enough to execute.

I had gone from thinking that I, along with the whole world was being fooled, to wondering if I, along with the whole world was being fooled. The difference being that I began by thinking we were fooled by Mr Brainwash and his shameless ability to commercialize and profit from a movement that was born out of a want to warn people against his exact behavior. And I now wondered if it was in fact that we were being fooled by Banksy and his cohorts, and if this movie was just the next phase in their evolution as artists. They’d somehow figured out a way to sell out on selling out.

I quickly found that I wasn’t the only person to think this way, and his Wikipedia page goes into detail on this theory.

Ty Burr of The Boston Globe says “I’m not buying it; for one thing, this story’s too good, too weirdly rich, to be made up. For another, the movie’s gently amused scorn lands on everyone.”

But then can’t we also argue that the story is too good to not be made up?

It’s a conundrum for sure. I’m perplexed and my mind is blown by all of it. In a good way like always. My brain is doing push ups trying to figure this one out, in the process opening up a new wing in an unused part of my cerebrum, which I get to keep and put towards figuring out the answers to other crazy things once I’m done digging down this rabbit hole.

I think I now know what’s going on here. Banksy has gone and done it again. He’s moved on from the walls and the streets and started bombing the TV’s in our living rooms, etching a stencil on our brains from a whole different angle.

Or is it all for real?

Banksy you clever sneaky bastard.

Respect.