"The film immerses itself in tactile scenes of the painter at work, and from the textured compositions and limpid light to the swirling, nonlinear structure, it seems to draw direct and productive inspiration from Munch’s blossoming Expressionism. Perhaps this is the most profound pleasure a biopic can offer: the sense of one artist being moved by another." — Dennis Lim, The New York TimesThe sense of one artist being moved by another. The reason I dislike biopics, in a nutshell. Why would I want an encounter with a work that consists entirely of another man's reaction to altogether different work of art (which I cannot currently have access to)? It's like trying to stroke a cat through bubble-wrap. Why can't the thing I'm watching now be the artistic achievement? Try it with any other profession and you'll see what I mean. "Well he didn't fix the sink but the sense I got of the plumber being moved by the previous plumber's work was profound...."