Dumpster Archaeology: The Art of Rediscovering in Jazzy Docu on Dumpster Diving

Dustie Carter’s documentary on Lew Blink, Dumpster Archaeology captures its subject’s lighthearted whimsy through its comedic, stylised design—leaving the job of showcasing Blink’s earnestness about his pursuits to him.

His excitement is infectious (potentially so is his work, in less fun ways) as Blink dives into dumpster after smelly dumpster in the middle of summer, digging for treasures to carry back home and arrange into pieces of art. His home is a museum of other people’s lives, variously showcased, preserved, reworked, or repurposed. In his own words, his home is 98% populated by things (re)discovered. And how well he honours it all, paintings, books, diaries, documents, even a disco ball, and the crowd pleaser, a saxophone.

Carter adds a stylised flair to an already competent film: dolly zooms that begin to warp the alleys a la Inception but then politely disappear, touches of humour in the intertitles, a charming end credits sequence, wacky camerawork and monochrome lighting. It is a cinematic mishmash with a unifying interest in Blink’s system, and often individually enjoyable.

Blink provides voiceover and onscreen narration, making the film his with the same Timothy Treadwell-like enthusiasm with which he collects his treasures. Seen in a pastel, film look, Blink’s life looks charmed: summer looks soft and pleasant, and dumpsters really like dig sites with bounties to yield. There is mystery, anticipation, and the gentle joys of partaking in other people’s forgotten lives. There is also a sort of borrowed vitality when the items come from college dorm dumpsters. And when the subject of privacy can no longer be ignored, he offers an explanation that is perfectly acceptable while the narrative lasts.

Dumpster Archaeology is at its atmospheric best in its introspective moments, leaving a crack through which to glimpse the life on its own merit. The beauty is unquestionably there, if at times icky for reasons other than the smelly steam of summertime.