Frida

Frida isn’t a bad film, but it often floats around the edges of its subject. We learn more about Diego Rivera—the man who painted walls—and the famous figures orbiting her, like Trotsky and Rockefeller, than we do about Frida Kahlo herself. There’s not enough insight into what drives her, what fuels her art, or who she truly is beneath the striking imagery. The most insightful moment comes in a brief exchange—less than 20 seconds—as she talks to Trotsky atop Mayan ruins. But even that is quickly reframed through his interpretation of her story before he shifts the focus to his family, stripping her of agency once again. The direction is lively and visually creative, and Salma Hayek is strong in the lead, but the film never quite digs deep. It feels more like a guided tour of those around her than a portrait of the woman herself.

(Mauro Lanari) Members of the Mexican press were appalled at the liberties taken in portraying Kahlo's traumatic life. The film shows Frida as a kind of superwoman, a far cry from the real artist who was a cripple, moreover it was also shot in a palette of colours that were bright, shrill and overwhelming, serving up stereotypical images of Mexico aimed at "gringo" tourists (source: Screen Daily). But if Julie Taymor had directed the whole biopic as the last quarter of an hour, the artistic level would have lived up to her protagonist.

Fairly boring film about Frida Kahlo, the acting is decent but for non-fans its a test of patience.