Shia LaBeouf is watching every film he’s ever appeared in, back to back in reverse chronological order, with the resulting quiet spectacle streamed live for the 72 or so hours it takes to complete the marathon movie session. At the time of writing he’s having a little rest; every now and again his eyelids drift south and his head lolls a little.
The world loves a hashtag, and when it combines with the alternately fascinating and stultifying work of actor-turned-performance artist LaBeouf, a perfect storm of social media swirls into being. Some people on Twitter are studying LaBeouf’s posted order of services, so that they can watch his films at the same time he watches them. This makes #ALLMYMOVIES wholly in tune with the social media and celebrity news cycle panopticon. Unlike other endurance performances, the act of witnessing is not limited solely to audience present at the work, in this case the 50 or so people who can fit in the New York cinema at any time.
It’s that aspect that makes LaBeouf’s tentative steps towards conceptual art fascinating, even if he hasn’t yet managed to find an original voice (almost all of his performances so far have faced allegations, some more compelling than others, of plagiarism).
He has, in a way, made blatant rip-off merchantry his raison d’etre, which may not win him many fans among intellectual property crusaders, but does give his work a certain 21st century “unrepentant appropriation” frisson. It’s an artistic mission statement somewhere between Richard Prince’s “borrowed” Instagram portraits and Mars Attack’s memorable tagline “Nice Planet. We’ll Take It!” He’s a content curator who uses his body as the medium of dissemination.
LaBeouf’s desire is front and centre in his performance works; it’s primarily a desire for love, and nowhere more so than in #ALLMYMOVIES. That’s an aspect of certain modern art, especially performance art, that I don’t really care for it but it’s certainly in line with the collective unconscious, as far as feeling alone in the world is concerned. If LaBeouf, an actual famous person, still craves love and attention, it speaks to something real inside those of us who fire off Tweets, Instagrams and Facebook posts seemingly into the abyss, wondering if anyone will ever take notice.
Of all his works, #ALLMYMOVIES is the most compelling because it presents the artist less as “The Artist” – until recently, seemingly just another of his roles as an actor – and more in a state of genuine existential nakedness. Watching LaBeouf sleeping, yawning, cringing at his own performances, or trying to pick popcorn shards from his teeth is fascinating in its quotidian dullness – so much so that when his face lights up with laughter or joy, as it did while he watched Surf’s Up, it feels like a rare gift.
At times there’s a tenderness to #ALLMYMOVIES that recalls Sam Taylor-Johnson’s 2004 video portrait of David Beckham, David, as well as her magnificent Crying Men series. Perhaps it’s this odd tenderness that has led so many to tune in. I’ve known more than a few LaBeouf sceptics who have been moved to barrack for the actor as he endures his own back catalogue.
What must it be like for LaBeouf to watch himself age in reverse? Is he gripped with a sense that his best years are behind him? Does he think he peaked as Chas in 2005’s Constantine? Many actors are on record as being unable to watch their own films. I cringe when I hear my voice as I’m transcribing an interview, and reading early works can bring on apoplexies of embarrassment, so I can only imagine the agony. And it’s that endurance that, in a way, gives #ALLMYMOVIES a sense of pathos that other noted endurance pieces lack. He’s revelling in the embarrassment.
As Guardian film writer Jordan Hoffman praised the performance’s commitment to completism: “LaBeouf isn’t sparing himself any of his dodgier output. He’s watching himself warts and all.”
LaBeouf’s status as a more garden variety celebrity than art world star is what makes these adventures in performance art intriguing: do his works critique our obsession with “access” to the stars, or further facilitate it? I’m not sure he’s worked that out yet, but it’s enjoyable watching him, in the sage words of Bob Seger, working on mysteries without any clues.
Then again, perhaps he has worked it out: I took a final glance at the #ALLMYMOVIES stream (he was up to 2007 thriller Disturbia) before filing this piece. LaBeouf wiped popcorn grease from his beard, and as he kept his eyes glued on the screen while the entire world watched him, a beatific expression spread across his face. He knows what’s up.
