Exit through the gift shop

Directed by Banksy 12A cert, Light House/Cineworld, Dublin, 86 min

YOU COULD be forgiven for approaching the first film by Banksy with a can of petrol and a blowtorch. The cinema was, until now, one of the few places a chap could expect to avoid any annoying encounters with the ubiquitous (though still reasonably anonymous) English street artist.

A glance at the premise for Exit Through the Gift Shopdoes nothing to allay fears that the project will be annoying post-modern claptrap.

Beginning with the great man muttering behind his hood, the film, narrated lugubriously by Rhys Ifans, follows the story of an LA-based eccentric named Thierry Guetta. An obsessive video-camera user, the Frenchman took to recording the activities the first generation of street artists as they plastered Los Angeles with confrontational graffiti.

Secretive guerrillas such as Shepard Fairey, Neckface and Swoon and eventually Bansky himself allowed Guetta access on the basis that he was making an epic documentary. Sadly, it transpired he had no talent whatsoever for shooting or editing. The tables were turned and Banksy began making a film on Guetta.

Against the odds, the piece turns out to be an absolute hoot. Those ignorant of Guetta’s eventual fate will appreciate a drama (shot in grainy video, but cannily edited) that reveals endless unhappy truths about the vacuity of the contemporary art world.

If nothing else, it is worth watching to hear Banksy (of all people), his face in shade, his voice distorted, come over aghast at the unstoppable advance of baseless hype. Yes, you read that right.