Bill Cunningham New York (2010)

Directed by Richard Press
Starring Bill Cunningham
Runtime 84min. - Not Rated
4 Stars (out of 4)

"Bill Cunningham New York" is part of my Quirky Documentary series and is available on Netflix Streaming and other VOD outlets. Though they bear no official relationship, I consider this a companion piece to another film in the series, "Vincent: A Life In Color". Vincent likes to walk the streets of Chicago in flamboyant clothing. Bill likes to walk the streets of NYC to photograph people in flamboyant clothing. The two of them seem like kindred spirits.

Bill Cunningham is a focused individual. If I didn't find him so likable, I'd say he's an addict. When he's "using" he ignores everything else. He needs to be reminded to eat by his friends and co-workers. He's never had a romantic relationship. He spends every waking second looking for his next high.

So what kind of drug can keep a man's attention off of women and food for 40 years? Clothing. Bill spends his days looking for people in unique attire. He's referred to as a fashion photographer, but the terminology isn't sufficient. Bill couldn't care less if clothes are fashionable as long as he finds them interesting. When he goes to fashion shows he only takes photos of the clothes he likes. If he thinks it's something only a model would wear he'll put his camera down. Most of his photos are candids. He scours the streets of New York and attends upper-class fundraisers to capture what people are wearing. It doesn't matter if you're a McDonald's employee or a billionaire. If you scrub up well, he'll take your picture.


It's fascinating watching Bill work a room. He mingles with extremely rich and powerful individuals and is totally unimpressed by them. He's not rude, just indifferent. If Tom Cruise showed up in a plain suit, Bill would ignore him in favor of a catering employee wearing a polka-dotted tux. Even during fashion week in Paris, Bill spends more time on the street than at the professional shows. He's looking for trend setters, not followers.

The film follows Bill during a major life-change. He's one of the last two artists living in Carnegie Hall. The place has a history of housing some of the finest artists of all time. He and his only neighbor have called Carnegie Hall home for about 50 years. During the film, surely due to some sort of bureaucratic nonsense, they are being kicked out. The local arts community is outraged. Famous and powerful people hold rallies to save the studios at Carnegie. Bill is unfazed. Besides, they're just moving him down the street to a bigger apartment. He'll still be close to his job. He'll still be able to take pictures of clothes. Being upset on the basis of principle is not in Bill's playbook.

Bill is extraordinarily simple. He's not interested in any other aspect of modern life besides fashion. Music, cuisine, cinema, politics; they're not even on his radar. His own attire is incredibly mundane. Some khakis, a beret, a t-shirt, and a photographer's vest comprise his only outfit. The vests he owns are largely held together with tape. Despite his limited range of attire he fits right in with any social class.

Bill's got a heightened sense of journalistic integrity. At fundraising soirees he won't accept a cup of water, much less a free meal. His personal theory is that it's better not to get paid because then you can't be controlled. Most of us couldn't live up to that pressure, but Bill does. He quit a lucrative magazine job when they ran a story he didn't approve of. Now that he's with the New York Times he demands complete creative control. He puts his layout guy through the ringer on a daily basis making sure each picture is meticulously placed in exactly the right spot. If it's not right, he'll force him to do it over and over until it is. This prompts the layout guy to occasionally choke Bill or threaten him physically. It's all done in jest, but at least it breaks their tension momentarily.

Sticking with the addict analogy, Bill is always feeding his habit. It makes him a consistently happy individual. I think his ability to blend with any social class is due in large part to his demeanor. The man is always smiling. There's only two times in the film that he goes on an emotional departure. He gets gloomy when he visits his mothers grave, then again when he's asked about his Catholic convictions. Though it's never directly addressed, I can't help but think the two are connected.

Bill is a peculiar, eccentric man and admits so himself. His friends find it a joy to be in his presence. This documentary is the closest that most of us can get to being there ourselves.