It’s a wonder that after over twenty-five years as an active street artist, Banksy’s identity has yet to be revealed, and it’s a wonder if it ever will. That was something that ran through my mind at least a couple of times while watching Colin M. Day’s Saving Banksy, a tangential, breezy documentary film that has less to do with Banksy and more to do with the impact that his work has had on the rest of us non-anonymous people. Namely: what do we do with Banksy’s art once it’s revealed to the public?

Of course, many of the people featured in the film have an array of opinions on this, and even on the legitimacy of street art itself. This seventy-ish minute documentary sets its sights squarely on showcasing every single viewpoint on Banksy’s art, making an antagonist out of no one, other than a villainous art dealer who fumbles over his words as he tries to justify his clearly sleazy agenda. Many street artists are interviewed and sympathized with, as well as property owners who unwittingly provide a canvas to one of the biggest art movements of the century. Banksy’s intentions, though, are seldom explicit, save for whatever can be interpreted by the art itself, and his secrecy proves to be more frustrating and paradoxical, directly affecting the subjects of the film despite having zero involvement or direct interaction with them. In accordance with many city’s public graffiti ordinances (namely San Francisco in 2010), something has to happen with a particularly difficult to reach mural on the side of a hundred-plus-year-old building. The city wants it removed, the building owner wants it out of their life, and one kind-hearted art collector, Brian Greif (who acts as Saving Banksy’s executive producer) wants to preserve and protect the piece at all costs.