Nominated as Best Documentary in 2004 for both the Independent Spirit Awards and the Academy Awards, My Architect chronicles a son's melancholy journey to understand his unacknowledged father. Discovered dead over 25 years ago in a Penn Station restroom after returning from Bangladesh, 73-year old Louis I. Kahn was a world famous architect but was bankrupt and lie unidentified in a New York City morgue for three days. His obituary even fails to mention his son, Nathaniel. It turns out that Louis' wife wanted his bastard son to remain a nasty family secret and didn't want either of his two mistresses and offspring to attend the funeral. Outside his official family of Esther and daughter Sue Ann, the philandering architect also had a daughter, Alexandra, by colleague Anne Tyng and by Nathaniel's landscape architect mother, Harriet Pattison. From Nathaniel's film it's plain that all three women still love Louis—none sought another man for companionship.

Although Nathaniel's quest remains personal, the portrait of his famous father also pays homage to a unique talent and strongly illustrates the creative spirit. Iconoclastic and stubborn are just two descriptions that come to mind of Kahn, who overcame his "Scarface" looks from a childhood burning accident to rank as one of America's leading architects. A financial failure often rejected in his Philadelphia hometown, Kahn was a true artist. Obsessed with creating lasting monuments after studying in Rome, he returned to the states a changed man and determined to forge bold new paths. Some were so radical that his contemporaries belittled him as an idealistic lunatic (the film shows one old codger still doing so over Kahn's concept of circular buildings and non-automobile traffic for downtown Philadelphia). But Kahn finally received due artistic recognition his last decade for visionary structures like the Exeter Academy Library, the Yale Art Gallery, Fort Worth's Kimball Art Museum, and the Salk Institute in the San Diego area.

Even more unique are a "concert boat" design, captained by a musician who still harbors great affection for the famous architect, and Kahn's masterpiece—the huge capital building in Bangladesh that serves as governmental center, community gathering spot, and artistic edifice that exudes a mystical spiritualism that inspires deep meditation. It once escaped bombing because the enemy thought it was an ancient archaelogical structure. That such a structure could arise from the most poverty-stricken country in the world defies logic; of course, it speaks volumes about its penniless creator—and Nathaniel denotes this building as the place where he began to understand his mysterious father.

Despite Kahn's notable artistic stature and that fact that Nathaniel includes interviews with other architectural giants (like Frank Gehry, who once worked with him and acknowledges his influence), this poignant documentary is most notable for its exceptional intimacy. While interviewing his mother, her unrealistic idealism shines through with her insistence that Kahn had crossed out the address on his passport because he was going to leave his wife and move in with them. The boat captain tears up when discovering that Nathaniel is Kahn's son—"I remember seeing you at the wake"—and Nathaniel wisely keeps the camera rolling through the extended hug and on himself afterwards to capture unmistakable emotion. It's clear that he's seeking his own self-discovery along with striving to understand his enigmatic father. Especially telling is a scene with the project manager behind the Salk Institute, who reveals that Louis spent many Christmases with his family. Incredulous, Nathaniel merely queries "Christmas!" and it's self-evident that he never saw his father at this time.

Although the incredible Bangledesh structure fittingly highlights the narrative, providing the clearest indication of the architect's character, another truly moving moment occurs much earlier in the open spaces around the Salk Institute. After a time lapse sequence that chronicles the clouds and changing light of the day over which Nathaniel narrates the idea that the place has a spiritual feel to it, a boom shot shows the middle-aged son silently roller blading to and fro. It's as if he's attempting to recreate his childhood and re-connect with his absent father.

What emerges during the languidly paced film is a complex portrait that works on various levels. Architects and artists will want to examine the film for the remarkable content that includes archive footage of the master architect along with numerous interviews with associates, and loving photography of the structures themselves. But My Architect goes well beyond a traditional historical and academic study of Louis I. Kahn, as his son comes to grips with his enigmatic father.

In the end the son realizes that he is very much like his famous father—a genius who also had his own struggles with Life. A failure on many levels, he traveled nomadically around the world on the surface working on numerous projects, but on a deeper level—seeking his own identity as well. As one contemporary architect indicates about the nature of artistic success, it's far better to create a handful of great works than a myriad of ordinary ones merely for profits. Kahn's Bangladesh capital alone stands as a tribute to his spirit, while Nathaniel's personal documentary also makes its mark on the cinematic landscape as a fitting memorial—to Louis Kahn specifically, and to the artistic spirit in a more universal sense.