It starts very promisingly with a great demonstration of how we build up a fake glorified past for the art on the sufferings of the best artists. But then it becomes a fragmented, listless collection of events. I always thought Van Gogh as a talented but tormented artist, this movie shows him like a raving mad guy who happens to be good at painting incidentally. I really enjoyed Roth's Vincent and the soundtrack but as a whole it is quite disappointing as a historical movie.

Altman's film does something I've never seen from a biopic of a painter -- it actually captures the quality of the paintings in its look and emotional feel. This is definitely a more naturalistic and less Hollywoodish film than Lust for Life. It's also less entertaining. And was it just me, or did Tim Roth mumble the lines he wasn't shouting?

I like Tim Roth a lot in this film. You could argue that its over-the-top but for me that's part of what makes it work so well. This might be Altman's nicest looking film, but not one of his very best.

I really enjoyed Pialat's quiet biopic; Altman's take on it follows a more standard formula. It's got a lot more drama, a lot of more of those "jeez, this guy was nuts" moments. We see a number of angry, frustrated outbursts but don't really get a feel for what drove the man in his work or even in his torment. Still, it's a very watchable film with a compelling and not-too-hammy performance by Tim Roth. Although the film is generally rather conventional, there are a few interesting touches.

Altman approaches the script with a surprising degree of control and realism; ironically, one of his least typical films is probably the most personal, offering a parable of all artists (including himself) whose rejected work proves to be ahead of its time.

More boredom from Robert Altman. Harsh electric lighting that totally kills the illusion that this is the 19th century. Fuck this movie, and fuck it hard