Fascinating documentary film that attempts to shed some light on the enigmatic life of artist Ray Johnson, whose body was found off Long Island in January 1995, dead at age 67. A contemporary of other New York avant-garde artists including Andy Warhol, Roy Liechtenstein, and Christo, he also counted caustic wit Dorothy Parker among his friends, though no one claims to have really known him.

His work ranged from the intricately detailed to the simplest bunny, the latter showing up as a signature piece in many of his portraits and collages. Some of his work was composed of complex and colorful stripes and geometric designs and his style evolved into one of composite collages incorporating images from popular culture, intricate pen and ink drawings, often accompanied by the ubiquitous bunny. With his shaved head and quixotic expression, Johnson resembled his deadpan bunny. He was cutting up magazine photos of icons such as Marilyn Monroe and James Dean and masterfully placing them in his work years before Warhol began using their images in his work.

This first feature film is from director John Walter, who shares the artist’s Detroit roots, where Johnson attended Cass Tech High School, a haven for eccentric and creative souls in the 1940’s. He moved on to Black Mountain Collage in the late 1940’s and began working beside William de Kooning and Merce Cunningham, among others. Though perhaps possessing greater artistic genius than some others that built successful careers, Johnson made gallery showings of his work impossible, precisely because of this genius. Many of the interviewees in the film describe Johnson as a piece of living art, akin to his own creations, a composite human/objet d’art.

Following his death, the police investigation that ruled out foul play revealed what appears to be a carefully laid out, but no less cryptic, message to whomever chose to interpret it. It is presented as a sort of farewell, the gallery show that he was never able to put together during his life, though not for lack of willing gallery owners. In his apartment were hundreds of his works, arrayed in his characteristic haphazardly systematic fashion, all turned to face the wall, save for one large self-portrait. The original score and drum work from jazz legend Max Roach adds important tension and energy as those who knew him recall this dynamic man who was perhaps destined to be unknowable.