urely no one would pose the argument that Louis Kahn was a particularly attractive man. He had a narrow face riddled with burn scars, thick glasses, a short stature, an awkward stumbling stride and an unusual voice. Watching the archive footage of him in My Architect, one would hardly take him for the brilliant architect that he was.

Then again, one could imagine that a man so flawed in his own bodily structure would use his passion for architecture as a form of compensation, or even as a way to communicate his own inadequacies. In fact, as a fellow architect points out, Louis loved to leave evidence of construction within his works; he wanted to show the imperfections within his buildings. One might read the exposed scars on the concrete as a cathartic product of his own afflicted visage.

But this film isn’t merely about the works of Mr. Kahn. The director, Nathaniel Kahn, is Louis’ illegitimate son. His father died when he was eleven and since their relationship was based on a certain amount of secrecy, Nathaniel never had the opportunity to get to know him. As a result, the film is more a reflection of Nathaniel’s quest to understand his origins rather than a mere examination of the architecture itself.

As a consequence, the film has two agendas: one to reinforce the architectural brilliance of Nathaniel’s father, the other to understand the man behind his constructions. The architects he interviews reveal both sides. It seems as if Louis’ personal life couldn’t be all together removed from his public. They talk of a man consumed by his work, shrouded in secret affairs. Some are even shocked to discover that Nathaniel is his son. In a way, the only reliable source for who Louis was lies in his architecture. If a man is defined by his art, then these buildings represent the last readable text of Louis Kahn.

The film takes a while to gather momentum, part of this stemming from Nathaniel’s own uncertainty about his father and how to develop his portrayal. The most satisfying moments come near the very end, one involving a confrontation with his mother, the other a trip to Bangladesh where Louis was enlisted to build the capitol.

The encounter with his mother, Harriet, is perhaps the most heart-breaking scene in the film. Now an elderly woman, she lived her life alone after the death of Louis. Her denial of her own situation and her undying faith in her lover are apparent in the way she speaks, the way she hesitates when her son asks her if she believed Louis was coming back to her just before his death. When the authorities found Louis’ body, they discovered that he had crossed his home address off the passport. Harriet believes that he had crossed it off as an indication that he was preparing to leave his wife for her. It’s clear Nathaniel doesn’t believe this, but he lets his mother hold onto it, knowing that it’s all she has left.

The trip to Bangladesh is beautiful partly because the capitol building is among the most intricate of Louis’ works. While interviewing an architect in that very building, Nathaniel admits that he only has ten minutes or so to devote to the structure itself. The man looks terribly offended by this. He says that to neglect the building would be a great injustice against his father’s work. Tears well up in his eyes, and it’s clear that this is more than just a building to him. In fact, it seems as if all the people exposed to Louis’ work value it in an extremely personal way, and the film captures that brilliantly.

However, My Architect is not without its flaws. At times it works too perfectly within its limitations. Many scenes hint at a certain amount of orchestration and interference by Nathaniel himself. Documentaries, as with anything aimed at realism, generally benefit from a lack of cuts. Conversely, Nathaniel cuts frequently during conversations to unnecessary angles and distances. It undermines the ultimate goals of his interviews and brings into question the setup, as I spent half the time wondering what went on as he was repositioning the camera. Then again, how much this hinders the story depends on how much we want to view this film as a factual account rather than a personal narrative.

Still, despite the slight lack of focus and the inherent manipulations, the film works on its own terms. It’s a sort of farewell letter to the father Nathaniel never knew and adds a little closure to the secrets that scarred his life. He may not be any closer to understanding his father’s final thoughts or intentions, but at least he can finally acknowledge to the world what he was to Louis: his son.