07-09-2015, 10:18 AM
Modigliani (starring Andy Garcia) gets rather long in the neck at 128 minutes, with not a beauty mark in sight.
I should probably stop my review with that.
There are so many miscastings in this muddy impasto of pathos. Then again, the actors are given so little to work with. It's a terrible script (by director Mick Davis), rendering all the characters painfully shallow. Modigliani and Picasso, each with their own circle of friends, seem to spend all their time sitting around in cafes socializing. It's a wonder they ever painted anything. Sparks fly every time they encounter each other. One highlight has Picasso sitting with a sheathed samurai sword in his lap, which he unsheathes when Modigliani insults him. Though Modigliani then says something placating, Picasso declares, "Once a Samurai unsheathes his sword, he has no choice but to draw blood." Not that anything happens; the scene just peters away into nothingness.
The whole movie centers on an art contest that Modigliani and Picasso finally condescend to enter, as well as several other famous artists of the time, reducing the whole fucking movie to some sort of sports event. The characters and their aesthetics and motivations all become incredibly trivial.
The actress Elsa Zylberstein sticks her neck out playing Modigliani's great love, Jeanne Hébuterne. The real Jeanne appears to have been long suffering. Here, she comes across as insufferable -- again, not the fault of the actress but the script. Interestingly, you can also see her in the movies Van Gogh (1991) and in Lautrec (1998).
One more damning comment. Despite considerable focus on how controversial Modigliani's nudes are, there is no nudity in this film -- nothing even close. You're lucky to get a clear view of a neck. I'm calling this a blatant case of gratuitous claddity. The Censor Board should have blocked its release.
P.S. No giraffes were harmed in the making of this film.
I should probably stop my review with that.
There are so many miscastings in this muddy impasto of pathos. Then again, the actors are given so little to work with. It's a terrible script (by director Mick Davis), rendering all the characters painfully shallow. Modigliani and Picasso, each with their own circle of friends, seem to spend all their time sitting around in cafes socializing. It's a wonder they ever painted anything. Sparks fly every time they encounter each other. One highlight has Picasso sitting with a sheathed samurai sword in his lap, which he unsheathes when Modigliani insults him. Though Modigliani then says something placating, Picasso declares, "Once a Samurai unsheathes his sword, he has no choice but to draw blood." Not that anything happens; the scene just peters away into nothingness.
The whole movie centers on an art contest that Modigliani and Picasso finally condescend to enter, as well as several other famous artists of the time, reducing the whole fucking movie to some sort of sports event. The characters and their aesthetics and motivations all become incredibly trivial.
The actress Elsa Zylberstein sticks her neck out playing Modigliani's great love, Jeanne Hébuterne. The real Jeanne appears to have been long suffering. Here, she comes across as insufferable -- again, not the fault of the actress but the script. Interestingly, you can also see her in the movies Van Gogh (1991) and in Lautrec (1998).
One more damning comment. Despite considerable focus on how controversial Modigliani's nudes are, there is no nudity in this film -- nothing even close. You're lucky to get a clear view of a neck. I'm calling this a blatant case of gratuitous claddity. The Censor Board should have blocked its release.
P.S. No giraffes were harmed in the making of this film.
I'm nobody's pony.