The Artist and the Model (2012)
This is a movie, a poem, about the existence of beauty and meaning in art, and in the life of an artist. in France during WWIL
This is an impossible subject for any movie—it demands too much be spelled out. The more obtuse, abstract, and indirect it is the better. Luckily that's where this movie tries to go. Where it fails is when it specifies its ideas. It sometimes states its wisdom. There is another better movie somewhere—not yet made—that could touch these ideas and imbue them with fullness without making it concrete. That one is the masterpiece.
In a way the fact I'm talking about this is proof that something happens here. It's a gorgeous, thoughtful movie. The old—very old—sculptor finds a young—very young— model and seems to come to life again. And in his work in these last years he finds something deep and lasting, or seemingly so. The model, in her own naive way, is actually more enriched than he is by all of this, and we see her enlightenment in small ways, even if on some level she doesn't care, not in the way the artist does.
But the artist is the center of things here, in a brilliant performance. His work, what they show of it in the movie (I speak as an artist and art historian), is pathetic and weak, and in a way that's an achilles heel here—-his huge inspiration is just another cemetery sculpture, nothing much after all. Maybe that's the hidden intention, but I don't think so.
The film is a gorgeous, simple black and white widescreen filming that is perfect for the material. The plot is simple—there are just a couple of interesting interruptions to the model and the artist working and growing together. At the end of the day and the end of life for the old man, it all presses on us as we watch—hence the pathos.
One of the stars is the French countryside itself—the olive oil on bread, the light through the trees. In a way it's a poem to a perfect existence, as much as life allows on this small planet.
See this? It really depends. It's a patient movie—requiring patience, as well. But it's beautiful and warm. And the acting is excellent. The torch is passed. The war is ending. Hope has some kind of connection to the profound, and the understanding that life is more than just the day's needs.
This is a movie, a poem, about the existence of beauty and meaning in art, and in the life of an artist. in France during WWIL
This is an impossible subject for any movie—it demands too much be spelled out. The more obtuse, abstract, and indirect it is the better. Luckily that's where this movie tries to go. Where it fails is when it specifies its ideas. It sometimes states its wisdom. There is another better movie somewhere—not yet made—that could touch these ideas and imbue them with fullness without making it concrete. That one is the masterpiece.
In a way the fact I'm talking about this is proof that something happens here. It's a gorgeous, thoughtful movie. The old—very old—sculptor finds a young—very young— model and seems to come to life again. And in his work in these last years he finds something deep and lasting, or seemingly so. The model, in her own naive way, is actually more enriched than he is by all of this, and we see her enlightenment in small ways, even if on some level she doesn't care, not in the way the artist does.
But the artist is the center of things here, in a brilliant performance. His work, what they show of it in the movie (I speak as an artist and art historian), is pathetic and weak, and in a way that's an achilles heel here—-his huge inspiration is just another cemetery sculpture, nothing much after all. Maybe that's the hidden intention, but I don't think so.
The film is a gorgeous, simple black and white widescreen filming that is perfect for the material. The plot is simple—there are just a couple of interesting interruptions to the model and the artist working and growing together. At the end of the day and the end of life for the old man, it all presses on us as we watch—hence the pathos.
One of the stars is the French countryside itself—the olive oil on bread, the light through the trees. In a way it's a poem to a perfect existence, as much as life allows on this small planet.
See this? It really depends. It's a patient movie—requiring patience, as well. But it's beautiful and warm. And the acting is excellent. The torch is passed. The war is ending. Hope has some kind of connection to the profound, and the understanding that life is more than just the day's needs.