
But Klayman shows his many sides. We see Ai at work, interacting with assistants, organizing protest actions, spending time with family, documenting earthquake victims, overseeing openings in Munich, Sao Paolo, and London, and surprisingly the documentary never feels rushed or superficial. Ai often talks to the camera in moments of repose, and we glimpse fascinating pieces of his philosophy. Klayman's subject is also the subject of a million other documentarians and reporters: we see how being documented has also simply become a part of Ai's life.
Klayman is primarily a journalist, and the emphasis here ends up more on Ai's political life than his art (though the two are of course inextricably linked). Still, the documentary is an engrossing portrait. One gets the sense that almost any moment spent with Ai is a fascinating one. At one point Ai is on the web, looking at T-shirts emblazoned with his name and image for sale, and the documentarian asks if he fears he's becoming a brand. It's a question that would send shivers down the spine of most American artists: the word "brand" carries with it connotations of capitalism, selling out, consumerism, commodification, all of which are the locus of a great deal of anxiety. "Yes," Ai says quietly. "I would like to become a brand for independent thinking."
Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry opens today, Friday, August 24, at the UA Tara, 2345 Cheshire Bridge Road, (404) 634-6288.