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FILM REVIEW: Frida06 Oct 2005. As Salma Hayek's long-time pet project, it is apparent that every frame in Frida has had thought, preparation, and care put into it. As a prestige project, it's also very slick and comes with high expectations. Intended to present the iconic painter -- a strong, talented, independent Latin woman -- to an American audience, it has the look and feel of a great film that nevertheless falls short in trying to tell the story of a unique personality by re-staging the events of her life.
When the film opens, the young Frida already shows an originality and forcefulness which would later be exhibited in her art. Much to the consternation of her traditional Mexican mother and the amusement of her German-Jewish father, she takes every opportunity to act in a manner unbecoming of a delicate young lady -- cross-dressing for a family portrait, for instance. The film shortly segues into the two events that would define Frida Kahlo's life -- her romance with the muralist Diego Rivera, and a bus accident that would break her body and leave her in pain for the remainder of her life. While recovering from her crippling injury, Frida explores her talent for painting, and eventually seeks out the already-established Rivera (played by Alfred Molina) and demands that he review her efforts. Her brazenness catches Rivera's eye, but her talent and personality hook him. Rivera can effortlessly reel in young and willing ladies, but only this small, demanding girl with a limp can demand his respect. In accordance with their radical political views (both are life-long Communists), Frida and Diego's unconventional courtship is a prelude to their tempestuous marriage, as Diego's unreasonable machismo and constant infidelities are met by Frida's justifiable rage. While her association with Rivera brings her into the company of artists and intellectuals (including Leon Trotsky, seeking refuge in Mexico), she often escapes his shadow through her own affairs and travels, though their destructive mutual attraction never fades. Through the ebbs and tides, Frida chronicles her inner life in intensely personal paintings, and she remains strongheaded into old age where she finally achieves some sort of peace with Rivera. As much as her life was defined by emotional and physical pain, it was also defined by her strength and force of personality -- as she faces old age bedridden, she has not lost any of her obstinacy or vitality, and prepares to exit life with the same passion that she lived it.
With a life this dramatic, the film is puzzlingly unfulfilling. With so much ground to cover, the script is somewhat diluted -- while it means to celebrate Frida's spirit, it can't help but delve into her times, occasionally losing itself in subplots. At times the supporting characters threaten to overwhelm Frida's own story; Rivera obviously looms large, but even the Trotsky sequence seems more about Trotsky, with Frida acting as hostess in her own biography. Though Frida sometimes takes a backseat, she is played with enough energy and enthusiasm by Ms. Hayek (whose own personality outshines the role, as she herself is also a forceful and determined Latin woman) to assert that Frida's commitment to her art and ideals are central to understanding her journey. While the film makes the connection between her life and art explicit, Frida as a character always feels somewhat distant from the audience, leaving the film without a real emotional core to latch onto as events and characters whirl by. For example, the loss of a child seems like a footnote to her relationship with Rivera, merely one more tragedy added to the pile. An in-depth biographical understanding of a complex personality is a hard feat to achieve in film, which is why the film may have been helped by focusing on fewer themes in Kahlo's life rather than attempting to cover its breadth. While the filmmakers make a genuine effort, one can't help but feel we are playing connect the dots with the highs and lows of a great artist's life.
As Frida Kahlo is frequently invoked as a proto-feminist, Hayek (as producer) assembled a team headlined by female talent. Having previously directed the widely-lauded Broadway production of The Lion King, Julie Taymor successfully sidesteps into film and proves herself an imaginative director. As with The Lion King, she seems to thrive helming big-budgeted productions with one foot in pop and the other in art. Appropriate given the subject matter, the film's cinematography has a very painterly quality, at times saturating or desaturating colors to emphasize mood and location, adding dashes of expressionistic lighting as needed, and tossing off other cinematic tricks. In order to underscore the autobiographical connection to her art, Frida's paintings are sometimes invoked directly in the narrative, with Ms. Hayek interacting with or suddenly transforming into one of Kahlo's canvases. One possible misstep is subcontracting to puppeteers The Brothers Quay for Kahlo's delirious hospital stay following her traumatic childhood accident -- a detour which finds no partner at any other point in the film and thus does not feel fully integrated. It nevertheless is an enjoyable experiment and evidences that Ms. Taymor is willing to use unconventional methods, a breath of fresh air. Feeling slightly more organic are musical performances by Lila Downs and Chavela Vargas, whose presence does not distract but rather reinforces the theme of strong female Latin artists. Their renditions of Mexican folk songs touch on a theme not fully explored -- Frida's position as first and foremost a Mexican artist (her life goal was an exhibition in her native country) and her love for her country's folklore, landscapes, etc. Also missing is a feeling of Frida's historical placement -- Communism, open marriage, and surrealist painting were not such conventional subjects half a century ago as they are today, though it is only Frida's conservative mother who seems out of place. Rich production design cannot compensate for an anachronistic portrayal of life in the first half of the 20th century, though one small detail illustrates Frida's self-conception: through the years, she continues to serve meals to her husband and their guests, fulfilling her role as wife while she challenges her restrictions as a woman. This dichotomy summarizes Kahlo's individuality: to remain feminine while expanding its definition, to be vulnerable but remain strong. It is an unfortunately missed opportunity that the film touches so many interesting themes without being able to explore more intensely the inner life of such a challenging icon.
