Guilt, forgiveness, and being seen

The Painter and the Thief, Hulu

This Norwegian documentary is a story of friendship built from art and theft.

The painter is Czeck artist Barbora Kysilkova whose natural curiosity leads her to a friendship with one of the men who stole two of her most valuable paintings.

The thief is Karl Bertil Nordlund, one of two thieves who opportunistically, yet carefully steal Kysilkova's paintings from an Oslo gallery. His need to be seen is offered by the filmmaker as one reason he may have accepted Kysilkova's request to paint him; a proposal made in the courtroom during a break at his trial.

A painter drawn to faces and hands, Kysilkova reached out to understand Nordlund, having watched the robberies on CTV footage-giving a face to her loss. Without malice or anger, she was able to bring him into her world and her studio to make him the muse for her paintings and drawings.

A life of disfunction and addiction is at the surface of the thief's story. He is a criminal whose chest tattoo, "Snitches are a dying breed," gives little hope that her paintings will ever be recovered. Perhaps posing was his way to make amends to Kysilkova for withholding the whole story about the missing artwork.

The scenes in Kysilkova's studio feel so genuine. Watching her work, putting pencil to paper, oil to canvas, it is clear she is a masterful artist. You can smell the oil paint. Still, she has difficult times, including financial insecurity and continuing self-doubt from a past relationship.

Nordlund is lost and reckless. His childhood was one of isolation and loss. After a promising school career and interest in traditional Norwegian carpentry, he succumbs to addiction. Some of his scenes are filmed while he is in prison, and it is an interesting view of Norway's prison system. There is little relationship between his confinement and the jails and prisons from 60 Days In, Scared Straight, or Oz.

The Painter and the Thief could only have worked as a documentary; it would have seemed contrived as fiction. The director, Benjamin Ree, filmed in the style of cinema verite with restraint and patience that allows the story to unfold compellingly. With no artificial dramatic buildup or scripted moments we see how this friendship changes both parties and shows us the power when we allow ourselves to see and be seen.

It is not rated. It is predominantly in English with some Norwegian, with subtitles. It is available for rent or purchase on Amazon, Apple TV, Google Play, and streaming on Hulu.

Pooch Perfect, ABC, BBC

I have two dogs that seem to repel water, soap, and any manner of grooming. Periodically I win the battle, and one or both are clean(ish) for a day or two before rolling their way back to a mucky mess.

So, shows featuring champion dog groomers are a guilty pleasure. Sure, I resent the effortless control the contestants have over their dogs, the ease in which they lather and rinse a pup who stares trustingly into their eyes-no chortling, barking, or whining, just obedient bathing.

Pooch Perfect is hosted by Rebel Wilson (Pitch Perfect). Teams of expert dog groomers and their assistants compete in two challenges each episode, and like Survivor, one team is voted off the show. Sad for the losers but harder for the dog who must wear the shame until their coat grows out.

If you love dogs and enjoy watching them become topiary, this is the show for you. The artistry and techniques used to create art out of Goldendoodle hair are inspiring. There is also something sweet about how the groomers connect with the dogs, randomly assigned for each challenge. The designs may be over the top. Dogs made to look like skunks or dyed hot pink; however, it is evident that these contestants are true dog lovers.

Besides Wilson, there are three judges, a groomer to the stars, a veterinarian, and Bravo's Lisa Vanderpump. As host, Wilson is funny and engaging as she walks from team to team, similar to The Great British Baking Show if you replace the smell of baked goods with that of wet dog.