Seraphine

There are many reasons why we go to the movies. From vicarious experience to total escapism to whatever else. Some movies are so disposable we barely remember the name, let alone the subject matter or who played in them. Seraphine, about the visionary artist Seraphine Louis, also known as Seraphine de Senlis (1864–1942), offers us a host of movie delights that will hardly be forgotten. Visually beautiful with soft images of the French countryside, the film is rich in texture of all sorts--from the grasses that sway in the breeze to the dark fabric of Seraphine's large skirts and dirty weave of her tattered shawl as she climbs the hill to one of her favorite spots beneath a large tree overlooking the vista she adores.

You can almost feel the heat and smell the sweat emitting from Seraphine's Rubenesque body, as she scrubs her employer's hardwood floors with near violence. Late into the night in the confines of her small apartment atop a long flight of stairs, this frumpy and irreverent housekeeper by day accompanies her feverish nocturnal painting with impassioned singing, seemingly unaware that people below may be trying to sleep. Using her thumb and a paintbrush to add color to her canvas, she kneels beside it, hovering over her work. She works amidst pots of paint that she has concocted from local plants and blood, surreptitiously extracted from meat cooking on the stove of her mistress' kitchen.

Her obsession resides somewhere between religious fervor and madness. But it is her naivete, her complete abandon to the creature that she is that endears her to us. And there are the paintings themselves--brilliant swirls of color, repeating patterns--flowers and plants of the countryside rendered in larger than life 'naive' representation.

Perhaps even more than any scene in itself, it is the eyes of the amazing actress Yolande Moreau that capture our attention. She manages to convey the innocence, religious fervor, and mischievous childishness of the character of Seraphine as well as her candid and open nature. Blue and slanted upwards like butterfly wings, her eyes give us entrance into her world, her painting, and her devotion to her art.

We watch the process of her painting, the way she lovingly and steadfastly adds a bit of color, rubs it in, so in love with her painting that sometimes she falls asleep by its side as if it were her lover. But in spite of the beauty of the film, along with the exquisite score by Michael Galasso, the two-hour film feels like it's a half-hour too long. Several scenes continue beyond where they should have ended--as if the artist--in this case, the director Martin Provost, didn't know when to stop adding more color to the canvas.

Séraphine was an untrained artist, 'discovered' by Wilhelm Uhde, a prominent German collector and dealer who was part of the artistic circle in Paris in the early 1900s and played a prominent role in the career of Henri Rousseau. He was one of the first to recognize the genius of Pablo Picasso and George Braque and he exhibited their works in his gallery in Montparnasse. He happened to see an early painting of Seraphine's and it was under his patronage, although interrupted for many years by his inevitable need to leave France during the war, that her work reached prominence.

Directed by Martin Provost, Seraphine won a total of seven César Awards (the French Oscar), including Best Film, Best Original Score, and Best Screenplay.