For a film about obsession, Olympia Stone's biopic is remarkably laid back. Allan Stone, the director's late father, made a name for himself in the '60s when he traded his law firm for a gallery on the Upper East Side. The space became a landmark thanks to Franz Kline and Willem de Kooning, and Stone used his new reputation to champion artists like Wayne Thiebaud and Richard Estes. Stone's greatest achievement, though, was his Long Island home: a mansion overflowing with art. At its spiritual center stood an army of African fetishes, the only art form whose sense of obsession could match his own. Olympia, however, seems more perplexed than obsessed by her father's passion; her film shows only passing interest in its own collection of old footage and images. Allan, who saw the film shortly before he died, inadvertently provides the best commentary: After traveling to Tibet, Olympia tells him, "We have too much!" Stone's reply: "No, I have too muchyou have nothing."
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