I've long been a fan of the sculpture of Niki de Saint Phalle, so I really looked forward to seeing her speak and move in the flesh. Whitehead is a very personal director, and along with her intensely personal story, it is almost hard to watch this film. Apparently Whitehead wanted to do a biographical story about St. Phalle, but instead she wrote a 90-minute rant about her father, and acts out his sexual abuse of her while she tortures him, first by sexualizing her mother, then by bringing in a "young girl from the convent". The nutty piano repeating over and over in the background emphasizes the insanity of the whole film. St. Phalle is in her early forties and still very attractive here, but her therapeutic and ritualized dissection of her father doesn't feel successful, and I came away from this film feeling sad for her. Recommended only to people with a strong interest in the artist. The direction and cinematography are merely competent.
