Scenes: Mixing soup with wine. The girl in the red dress. Imitating Toulouse-Lautrec. The dance. "His many weaknesses turn to strength" The buyer points at a piece of carton and says "That's like saying this is the future of art!" Joanna bathing. The sudden cuts. Rimbaud and Van Gogh - same age, different age of flowering
Pialat certainly saw himself in VG, the rejected genius of his own generation; bitter and with a penchant for young muses. The film is like a novel by Flaubert or Maupassant and it was intended that way, with a variety of country oddballs that pop in and out, saying things we should read deeper into, and in their own way contributing to the tragedy.
Stunning biopic that neither sentimentalizes, sensationalizes, nor sanctifies its subject, but rather presents the artist as a complex man caught between a lack of recognition and loathing of the art world, and a deep seated desire for validation. Impeccably played by the cast, visually delightful, and somewhat more fluid and cogent direction by Pialat, in what is his best work.
Although Dutronc played the tortured soul of Van Gogh well and Theo was well played I felt the film lacked some outlet of Van Gogh's motives to another character. Also, where was Provence with Gaugin and it's light in this film ? There seemed a few too many absences in this film and maybe one ear too many before he died !!! .
Either I lived in projected deluge when as a boy in love with V.G. I read his soul from colours, compassion for his fellowman from dark drawings, whole universe of emotions in his landscapes ... or Pialat read all of it right in this interpretation of a self cantered, sadistic and caustic miser. Really, what this movie is about? Social life of V.G. in province? Semblance of how the life was back then? I hardly ...
"On peut violer l'histoire à la condition de lui faire un enfant". Le cinéaste réinvente le peintre au sein d'une époque qu'il a bien restituée. Les décors sont plus vraisemblables que le héros lui-même, nonchalant, silencieux et peu édulcoré. Dur de peindre une icône !
Souvent, on discute ciné et souvent, les gens me disent "je n'aime pas les biopics parce que je m'en fou blablabla". Un biopic, selon moi, est accompli lorsque la chair de la personne est retranscrite par une interprétation personnelle et subtile de celui qui la fait vivre, le réalisateur. Quand la fiction dépasse la réalité, voilà l'essence de ce genre, et encore une fois Pialat nous le dépeint bien.
Pialat, magnifiquement aidé par les interprètes du film imagine un espace, une histoire pour la fin de vie du génie. Et la profondeur de cette quête poétique, sensuelle et violante colle à la peinture, aux couleurs aux traits comme des déchirures. Il y a là un malheur, une douleur une impossibilité au bonheur qui nous transperce comme face à un tableau du maitre. Admirable Pialat
as a fan of Pialat I was expecting great things, and yes, this is a wonderful portrait of an artist, full of space for interpretation, not vulgar in any sense (I believe most biographical films about artists long gone are vulgar, because they shape a stereotype, while Pialat manages to avoid that). however, I have to admit that it felt as if something crucial was missing, some cinematic magic. 3,5
One of the greatest films I have ever seen. Probably Pialat's best (and Pialat is an unreconstituted God). So much to savor. I am especially struck by the seamless unified mastery of what is in fact the work of three different cinematographers. Pialat is the only rival to Cassavetes in representing the complicated dynamic mess we all are. If Joan of Arc is my quintessential screen woman, Dutronc's Van Gogh is my man.