On my Hong Kong — SFO flight, swiping through the list of films on my screen, I saw Van Gogh staring at me, squeezed between a war film and a rom-com. I was intrigued, for Impressionism has been one of those things that I have loved from far. My relationship with Impressionism is akin to one that a teenage girl has with a designer bespoke gown — distant admiration and a subconscious knowledge that its something out of reach beyond the visual.
Sixty seconds of mandatory inflight commercials past, the first frame of the film had this sentence — the film you are about to see has been entirely hand painted by a team of 100 artists.
From that frame onwards, I was transfixed for the remaining hour and a half. High above the Pacific, I was transported to 19th Century France, to a period in time, just a year after the death of Vincent Van Gogh.
Loving Vincent — a film that delves into the mystery surrounding the death of Vincent Van Gogh — takes you on a journey of unfathomed dimensions, and leaves you speechless, wanting for more.
The film starts with a letter — the last letter that Vincent wrote to his brother Theo — which has remained undelivered after the artist’s death. It then takes us back in time, through the footsteps of young Armand Rouland, who is entrusted by his father to find Theo Van Gogh in Auvers, and deliver the letter to him.
Through a series of beautiful paintings, we are transported back to the life and times of 19th-century Auvers. We meet a group of people, who were part of Vincent’s life in the weeks preceding his demise. They all have a part of the story to tell and have had a role to play in the birth of what we know today as Impressionism.
Part murder mystery, part art history — this film is like walking through a park on a beautiful spring day, where one is assaulted by a range of smells and sounds, which reach one separately and yet come together to create a perfect harmony. Or, it is like tasting a dessert by a Michelin star chef, multi-layered and nuanced, where each bite takes you on a different journey and yet the experience is a unified single pleasure.
Vincent Van Gogh’s life is the story of the price that great masters must pay, for the gift they have. It is the story of the ultimate tragedy of creative genius, of the sacrifices that come from having the ability that, only a few in human history have been bestowed with.
Ultimately, this film does something extremely difficult to achieve — turning this viscerally tragic story to something that we, in our 21st-century mad haste and our Instagram-driven incapability to understand depths — can pause, consume and appreciate, without swiping left.
Vincent Van Gogh said — We cannot speak to one another, except through our paintings. And thus he painted — 800 paintings in 8 short years, in which he tried to speak volumes to us. Volumes that will enrich the lives of generations to come. This film, and the paintings that compose it made me realize that it was not just a school of painting he started — he gave birth to a new language, a new medium of communication.
As the credits started rolling in, I was left speechless — and startled my fellow passengers by my silent clapping gestures. I was overwhelmed with gratitude towards the makers (Written and directed by Dorota Kobiela and Hugh Welchman) of the film — for daring to make it in this format and for the pain and effort in putting each frame into a painting.
Vincent Van Gogh never lived to know if his work would find value. And now, two centuries after his death, a hundred artists have come together to tell us about his life in the language that he created. I cannot imagine a more befitting tribute to the great master.
Each frame is a treat for the eyes, each sequence a new revelation. It does not matter if you are an expert on Impressionism or a newbie in art — Loving Vincent will take you on a journey unique and personal for you.
Go watch Loving Vincent — and cherish each moment — for it is a gift to us, in the giving of which a genius gave up his life and everything he loved dearly. I leave you with an excerpt from a letter that Vincent wrote to Theo, which appears in the film as well, and is so beautiful, that I could not resist reproducing it here.
In the life of the painter, death may perhaps not be the most difficult thing.
For myself, I declare I don’t know anything about it.
The sight of the stars always makes me dream.
Why, I say to myself, should the spots of life in the firmament be inaccessible to us ?
Maybe we can take death to go to a star.
And to die peacefully of old age, would be to go there peacefully on foot.
For the moment, I am going to go to bed and I wish you good night and good luck.
— With a handshake, your loving Vincent
This post is dedicated to G Shrivastava who taught me how to see and appreciate the beauty of the stars.
