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CRITICS OF "Manolo: The Boy Who Made Shoes for Lizards"
Washington Post
Talking-head interviews interspersed with reenactments reminiscent of cheap true-crime shows are the filmic equivalent of a polo shirt and khakis: blandly acceptable but uninspired.
The humble artist gets a loving tribute wrapped in a slick promotional package. However, it only scratches the surface whilst getting to the heart of the genius.
Ultimately, Manolo: The Boy Who Made Shoes For Lizards is better at capturing the tones of the times visited rather than proving the significance of its subject.
You may not be able to afford the shoes, but Michael Roberts' documentary Manolo: The Boy Who Made Shoes for Lizards may bring you almost as much delight.
For the legions of fans who will see "Manolo," the film's drawbacks may not be an issue, except that they take away from the time spent showcasing the shoes.
As an interview subject, Blahnik can be elusive, although his descriptions of his favorite creations throughout the years will no doubt be extracted as brand poetry for future advertising campaigns.
Those who are sceptical shoes can be an art form may not quite be won over, yet to see the septuagenerian Blahnik at his drawing board is to witness inspiration at work.
Recreations of the master's past are laughably bad: a numbing state of self-congratulatory and overly theatrical theatricality appears to have stricken all participants. So why was I never bored?