Review of Séraphine (2008) by Emma L — 16 Nov 2009

Works within the framework of the conventional biopic, but there's something novel and striking in its depiction of an artist who was in every sense servile and self-abasing, who spends half the film of her life on her knees, and approaches the creation of her art in the same way she would, say, a floor that needed to be mopped and waxed.

.. Moreau, a performer whose clownish features you'll have spotted in "Amelie", manages to convey a good deal without having to say much. Provost becomes as fascinated with this strange creature, hunched over her canvasses and nibbling at stale bread, as the camera does with the wildlife in certain nature documentaries.

His film makes obvious dramatic and comic play of its heroine's eccentricities (which could, also, be read as humbling practicalities: a tendency to bring her own food to dinner, say), but is never less than reverent and respectful around the paintings, vibrant, living things that appear to have sprung up out of the earth themselves, and absolutely merit the time Provost lingers upon them.