The journey of artists through biopic movies

Thankfully, producers don’t just focus on blockbusters—they also take the time to create beautiful biopic movies that bring the lives of both famous and lesser-known artists to the screen, offering us a source of inspiration. While we know the reality might be a bit different—let’s not forget the Hollywood filter—it’s still incredible to get a glimpse into the soul of an artist. Whether the film is in English, French, or even a Nordic language, art transcends any language barrier, and reading subtitles becomes a small price to pay. These films allow us to see their lives, struggles, and joys, reminding us that they, too, are just human, despite the pedestal we often place them on due to our admiration. I’m not a huge fan of television, but sometimes I find myself captivated by a long, compelling story of art on screen. For this article, I even re-watched every film—just one of the sacrifices I’m willing to make for you.

Here are 12 films about artists that are definitely worth your time.

The Electrical Life of Louis Wain

The man who drew cats. This film tells the story about the quirky British artist Louis Wain. Set in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it traces Wain’s journey from a talented but eccentric illustrator to a renowned artist whose surreal cat portraits gained widespread acclaim. Wain’s had struggles in his personal life and with his mental health, but his unwavering love for his wife Emily helped him through it—their relationship is very touching. It also depicts the tragedy of being a freelancer and not knowing how to run your business. He never enforced copyright to his images and was never rich. The moment he was free from the financial “hustle” was at the psychiatric hospital where he could create for the love of art. If you find yourself in Kent in the UK, you can go see his work at the Museum of the Mind.

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 been a huge admirer of Salvador Dalí, so much so that years ago, I nearly bought a bronze sculpture titled “Homage to Newton” during a visit to the Dalí Museum in Paris. What started as a curious inquiry about the price turned into a serious contemplation of the purchase. Ultimately, I decided against it, mainly because I wasn’t well-versed in the intricacies of art buying, like understanding certificates of authenticity. Even so, it was an exciting and memorable experience. After watching this film, I feel somewhat relieved that I didn’t go through with the purchase years ago. While I can’t say how accurate the movie’s portrayal is, it suggests that Dalí left much of the business side of his work to his wife, Gala, who had her own interests and priorities. 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 was an phenomenal Mexican artist whose sheer will to live is nothing short of extraordinary. After enduring a life-altering and excruciatingly painful accident, most of us would have been defeated, but not Frida. Instead, she rose to become one of the most iconic and influential painters of the 20th century. What I admire most about her is her unshakable self-confidence—she trusted her instincts and took control of her life. Her relationship with Diego Rivera is a testament to her fierce, bold, and defiant nature, making choices that were as unconventional as they were passionate. 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

Portraying Jean-Michel Basquiat must’ve been no easy task. To me, Basquiat embodies a whirlwind of emotions that often went unspoken. There’s a softness in his voice that reminds me of Michael Jackson—otherworldly, in the best way possible. 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. His rapid rise to fame, in part due to his encounter with Andy Warhol (brilliantly played by David Bowie). He used his art to challenge racism and bring attention to what he felt was missing in the art world, making his work bold and unapologetic. But the art world, and life itself, became overwhelming for someone so sensitive and introverted. The complexities of fame and inner turmoil led to his untimely passing. This movie offers a glimpse into his life, capturing the highs and lows, the joy and pain, both as a person and an artist.

Love is the Devil

Do I love Francis Bacon’s paintings? Absolutely. But would I want to be one of his close friends? Probably not. This biopic offers a raw glimpse into Bacon’s complex relationships, particularly with his lover, George Dyer. Bacon was obsessed with exposing the ugly truths of humanity, delving into the depths of both physical and psychological existence. His life and work are far from simple, and in some ways, he reminds me of Aleister Crowley’s philosophy: “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law,” which encourages individuals to align with their true (spiritual) calling. Bacon’s dark art similarly peels back the layers of our mortal existence, revealing the crude, obscene, yet tender and fragile aspects of our feelings and bodies. It’s both fascinating and terrifying. 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 the French countryside myself at the moment, I find it easy to connect with the landscape and culture depicted in Séraphine. Seeing photos of my 94-year-old neighbor and hearing her stories of both hardship and the simple joys of life made the movie feel even more relatable. The film beautifully captures not just the struggles, but also the profound love for creating art, as well as the passion for the art itself by the German collector Wilhelm Uhde. The relationship between Séraphine and him is particularly moving. It’s a story of love—not a romantic one, but a deep, abiding respect and admiration. Uhde saw the unique beauty in her work, and his appreciation of her art endured, even when she stopped painting. This connection between them, fueled by her faith and his understanding of art’s essence, was incredibly touching. 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 explores the life of the brilliant Norwegian expressionist painter Edvard Munch, best known for his iconic work, “The Scream.” Much like the biopic At Eternity’s Gate about van Gogh, this movie delves into the struggles of an artist grappling with mental health issues. I find artists, including Munch, incredibly courageous for channeling their inner turmoil into art that touches our hearts. It’s a brave and profound way to live. Two quotes from the film that resonated with me capture this idea perfectly: “Real art is made at the expense of peace and harmony” and “Art grows out of joy and sorrow. But mostly sorrow.” Visually, the film is stunning—each shot feels like a piece of art in itself, worthy of being captured and framed. I would recommend watching it for the sheer beauty of the cinematography alone. The narrative unfolds across three different timelines, portraying Munch at various stages of his life, including a modern-day one which could be for us to feel closer to the artist’s feelings. The film is an emotional journey, and I’m curious to know which feelings it will stir in you.

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. The film focuses on this period, highlighting the influence Tahiti had on some of his most iconic works. Gauguin’s relationship with Tehura, depicted in the film as a romantic involvement, was actually with a 13-year-old girl. In the time of their relationship, Gauguin was not only 30 years her senior but also afflicted with syphilis. This context casts a shadow over the artist’s legacy and raises difficult questions about the morality of celebrating his art. Can we separate the beauty of his work from the unsettling truths of his life, or does the darkness behind his inspiration tarnish the value of his creations? I’m curious to hear your thoughts on this complex issue.

Did I miss any? If so, please let me know by writing it in the comment section so I can make a new batch of popcorn.