Last Sunday, out of sheer curiosity — and because, why not? — Captain Awesome and I went to the Mr. Brainwash show in the Meatpacking District.

To be clear about a few things first:
1. We’re not idiots (although that’s debatable at times).
2. I wanted to see what all of the hubbub was surrounding Mr. Brainwash.

The show was packed. Crazy packed. We couldn’t get in at first because the bouncer at the door wasn’t letting anyone in — that is, unless you had an outrageous European accent and an entourage, tickets (we didn’t care enough after the show to figure out where the tickets came from), or were the New York Fire Department.

So, we stepped outside to figure out the next move. From the sidewalk, we could see Mr. Brainwash (he sort of looks like as cross between Chuck Mangione and Zeke from the Muppets) signing posters (for the ticket holders, obvs) — with huge crowds around him. A woman and her two young sons walked out, so we asked how they got in. “We just walked right in!” the woman said. Oh. Hmmm.

So we walked back in, opened the door, and entered the show (the Surly Bouncer wasn’t paying attention).

[Ok, here's an aside: What art show requires a bouncer, tickets and the FDNY?]

The space was fantastic. I would want to live there if it wasn’t a warehouse in the Meatpacking District that was probably a former kill center of animals (give me a break; I’m a vegetarian.). The space was to die for, real estate-wise: Two floors with the ground floor being at least three garage-door-bays wide with a loading dock on a cobble stone street.

So, the “art”: If Wahol, Oldenburg and Banksy never existed, there wouldn’t be a Mr. Brainwash. But they did (still do in some cases) and so he does. The end result: No originality. Yes, the wall of silk screened artist icon images was interesting, as were the walls of fashion icons, fashion leaders and Internet leaders (not-so-new pop art?). But they worked as a collection, not as individual pieces.

On the flip side, seeing the portraits of music legends done in broken records was striking. At first. But an entire warehouse floor filled with enormous line portraits of musicians done in broken 45’s and 75’s (for those who don’t know, they’re records. Vinyl records. I’ll leave it to you to look that up)? It gets old fast. And the thought of the artist having assistants arises soon.

Some claim that this show is Banksy hoax. But in my opinion, Banksy is more clever than this (then again, he did play a trick on Joan Collins, and one on Paris Hilton fans.

If the Mr. Brainwash show was hoax, it failed on many levels (except for the people who think he is a real artist):
1. The art can by no means be construed as original.
2. There’s no lasting power.
3. The collective pieces do not stand on their own.

In the meantime, there’s a fantastic show of true contemporary artists on display at Opera Gallery featuring Kathie Olivas, Brandt Peters and Ron English. And there are a couple of Mr. Brainwash pieces hanging around, too.