A quiet obsession with artist stories
Let’s give a little standing ovation to the film producers who resist the gravitational pull of superhero franchises and explosions, and instead, gift us stories about artists. Some well-known, some barely recognised in their own lifetimes, all of them fascinating.
Now, I’ll be the first to admit—biopics aren’t perfect. They come with that unavoidable “Hollywood polish,” and yes, things are dramatised. But honestly? I don’t mind. There’s something powerful about seeing a painter’s life, messy, beautiful, raw, played out on screen. The language barely matters. Whether it’s English, French, or Norwegian, art speaks louder than subtitles ever could.
I’m not a huge television person. But these kinds of stories? I make time for them. For this article, I even rewatched every film. Ah, the sacrifices I’m willing to make for you.
12 films about artists that are definitely worth your time
The Electrical Life of Louis Wain
This one surprised me. I picked it up expecting quirky cats (which it delivers, in spades), but it ended up pulling at my heartstrings in ways I didn’t anticipate. Louis Wain was a British illustrator whose life unravelled with quiet grace. His love for his wife Emily was deeply moving, and tragic. The film also paints a painfully familiar picture of the freelance struggle: underpaid, overlooked, and utterly absorbed in the work.
He never enforced copyright. He died with barely a penny. But when he was finally “free” from the pressures of income, in a psychiatric hospital, of all places—he kept drawing. That broke me a little. If you’re ever near Kent, UK, visit the Museum of the Mind to see some of his work. It’s tender.
Maudie
Maudie is a heartfelt movie that tells the true story of Maud Lewis, a Canadian folk artist who transformed her personal challenges into a life filled with color, creativity, and love. I’ll admit, I got a bit sentimental watching this film, and yes, there might have been a tear or two. Like Frida Kahlo, Maud battled physical limitations—in her case, severe arthritis. She lived in a modest, primitive house in chilly Nova Scotia, which couldn’t have been easy for her condition. Despite being different and being seen as a burden by her family, Maud took charge of her own life and even found true love by answering to a cleaning lady advert.
Her artistic journey started within the tiny house she was hired to clean, where she began painting on any surface she could find, walls, windows, scraps of wood. Her work eventually caught the eye of a New Yorker, leading to the sale of her first small cards, and soon, her paintings. Over time, Maud became widely known and continued to paint for the rest of her life. If you’re interested in seeing the home where she lived and created her art, it’s been carefully reconstructed and is now on display at the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia.
At Eternity’s Gate
There have been many films about the great Vincent van Gogh, but none quite as beautiful and tragic as this one. Watching it felt like stepping inside his mind, experiencing his emotions firsthand. It’s hard to put into words or pinpoint exactly what I felt, but the film stands apart from other biopics in how deeply it immerses you in van Gogh’s world, his intense bond with his art, his struggles with mental health, and his hunt to find meaning and beauty in a world that so often misunderstood him.
If you’ve ever felt frustrated with your own creations or felt that people don’t understand what you’re trying to express, this film is a powerful reminder that you’re not alone in that struggle. Artists have a unique gift that allows them to transcend this world, but it often comes with a heavy burden. I have deep respect for all of you who walk this path. You can go see his work at the Van Gogh’s Museum in Amsterdam, Netherlands.
Daliland
I’ve always adored Dalí, so much that I nearly bought a bronze sculpture of his in Paris once. I didn’t in the end (thankfully), mostly because I had no idea how to verify the authenticity. That experience came rushing back after I watched Daliland, which subtly hints that Dalí didn’t always manage his own empire. His wife Gala took the reins, with all the complications that brought.
The film doesn’t offer a complete biography, but it provides an intriguing glimpse into a segment of Dalí’s life as seen through the eyes of a young assistant. Despite its somewhat superficial take, I still recommend the movie, it offers a interesting look at a part of Dalí’s world, even if it doesn’t fully capture the complexity of his incredible mind and unforgettable art.
Frida
Frida Kahlo is the definition of resilience. After a horrific accident, she turned her pain, literal, physical pain, into bold, unapologetic art. What moves me most is how confidently she lived her truth. Her style, her politics, her complicated love with Diego Rivera, she owned it all. Her art is a mixture of vigorous colors and deeply poignant imagery, reflecting the pain she lived with every day, yet she still found a way to do what she was born to do: paint.
Watching the intensity of her emotions, both as a person and in her artwork, is gripping. As an introvert, it’s mind-blowing to see how she channeled her inner world into such powerful expressions. If you ever need a reminder of resilience and the power of the human spirit, Frida’s story is one that will give you that much-needed boost. And if you want to see her work, go to the Frida Kahlo Museum in Mexico.
Basquiat
Basquiat’s story hurts. There’s something in his eyes, in his soft-spoken manner, that reminds me of Michael Jackson, like he’s tuned into a different frequency than the rest of us.
Watching the film, I couldn’t help but wish I could be inside his mind, to understand what he was truly thinking instead of just hearing what he said out loud. Basquiat’s journey from a young artist living on the streets of New York to achieving great success is fascinating. The film captures his rapid rise, his relationship with Warhol (David Bowie plays him—brilliantly), and the chaos that followed. His art was a punch in the face to racism and pretension. But fame? Fame is loud. And for someone so inward, it eventually swallowed him whole.
Love is the Devil
His dark art? Raw, grotesque, brilliant. His personal life? Messy. This film doesn’t sugarcoat it. It’s a haunting portrayal of his toxic relationship with George Dyer, intense, destructive, and darkly fascinating. I admire Bacon’s philosophy of ripping back the layers of civility and getting to the meat of human existence. But would I want to have dinner with him? Not unless I had armour on.
You can not visit a specific museum to see his art, but there are exhibitions, and if you want to see his studio where he worked for over 30 years, it was reconstructed in the The Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin, Ireland.
Séraphine
Living in rural France myself at the moment, this film hit close to home. Séraphine de Senlis was a cleaning lady who painted in secret, guided by her faith and the trees she loved. The relationship between her and the German collector Wilhelm Uhde is the heart of this story, not romantic, but deeply respectful. He saw something divine in her work. She saw creation as a calling.
What struck me though, was how Séraphine, like so many artists, was eventually deemed “psychologically abnormal” and institutionalised. I’ve often wondered why society struggles to let such sensitive, creative souls live freely among us. Why do we so often lock them away, dimming their light when it’s precisely their art that brings beauty into our lives? It’s a question that lingers for me long after the credits roll. What’s your take on this subject?
Munch
This film is visually stunning. Every frame is its own artwork. Edvard Munch’s life unfolds across multiple timelines, including a modern one, which oddly works. It makes him feel closer and I think his living is brave and profound. Munch’s pain runs deep, and he pours it into his work. “Art grows out of joy and sorrow. But mostly sorrow” and “Real art is made at the expense of peace and harmony” the film says, and I felt that. Watching it is like staring at The Scream for two hours, but in a courageous way that’s weirdly comforting. The film is an emotional journey, and I’m curious to know which feelings it will stir in you. I would recommend watching it for the sheer beauty of the cinematography alone.
Goya’s Ghosts
This film doesn’t quite fit into the biopic movies genre. It feels more like a historical drama, set against the backdrop of 18th-century Spain’s turbulent and violent era. Goya had the ability to capture the darkness and raw fear of the human experience in a way that lingers long after you’ve seen it, nightmarish faces, twisted in agony, frozen in moments of suffering. I don’t think anyone else measures to his depiction of horror of that era. What also struck me is how his deafness, which developed later in his life, probably intensified the power of his imagery. Living in a world of silence, his visual storytelling became even more potent. Every shadow, every line, speaks volumes, not just about the physical atrocities he saw, but the emotional weight of a man who was deeply affected by the a world he lived in, filled with fear and cruelty.
Welcome to Marwen
If you’ve ever projected your imagination onto dolls or toys as a kid, you’ll instantly connect with the story of Welcome to Marwen. Growing up, I spent hours creating elaborate fantasy worlds with Barbies and my brother’s Lego, where anything was possible. That feeling of escaping into a personal, imaginative space is something I remember vividly. So when artist Mark Hogancamp uses his dolls to cope with the trauma of a brutal assault, it only made sense to me. The scenes Mark creates are both extraordinary and sad, as many of the characters he brings to life are reflections of the people who hurt him. What really struck me though, was how his art became his therapy—a way to process his pain and rebuild his sense of self. It’s a good reminder that art isn’t just about aesthetics; it can be a transformative, even life-saving. Mark’s journey is a testament to the healing power of creativity.
Gauguin, Voyage de Tahiti
As the title suggests, this biopic isn’t about Paul Gauguin’s entire life but rather the pivotal journey that led him to Tahiti, the place he ultimately never left (it is his resting place today). Gauguin, a French artist, is renowned for his vivid and expressive paintings inspired by his time in Polynesia.
Gauguin’s paintings from Tahiti are stunning, colourful, lush, dreamlike. But his personal life? Deeply complicated. The film shows his relationship with a 13-year-old girl, Tehura, and doesn’t shy away from the uncomfortable truth. Can you love the art while condemning the artist? I still wrestle with that. His story is a question of morality, can beauty and darkness live side by side? I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this complex issue.
I know there are more. I probably forgot someone brilliant. Tell me in the comments—recommend me something unexpected. I’ve got popcorn ready and a rainy weekend to fill.