I suppose the easiest way to convince the student body to lay aside the half-finished term papers for a few hours and see Frida is to announce that the movie includes a number of scenes that feature Salma Hayek TOPLESS. If that's all the incentive you need, you can stop reading now, sport.
Still with me, baby? You may rest assured that director Julie Taymor's biopic of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo is meant to induce more than just drooling. This is, in fact, a colorful study of how Kahlo's many joys and sorrows became her art, a cinematic experience both warm-hearted and disturbing, and one of the most visually stunning movies I have ever come across. You may think of the abundance of nudity as an added bonus.
Hayek is luminous in the title role as the hapless Kahlo, whose extreme lifestyle has by now become the stuff of popular myth. Her passionate scenes are touching, but her moments of tartness and grit are especially fun to watch. Take note, for example, of the exquisite boredom on her face as she is being nuzzled by a pretentious French lover. This is not the visage of a stock Latina babe enjoying her latest close-up; this is an image of an actress coming into her own.
Alfred Molina is even more effective in the role of Kahlo's philandering husband, the leftist muralist Diego Rivera. Molina manages to convince the viewer that this beached whale of a man would have no problem in seducing 99 out of a 100 women he meets.
The jarring love story of Kahlo and Rivera is offset by magnificent cinematography that makes creative usage of Kahlo's art. Some of it is scary, some of it sensual, but none of it is boring. See this movie. Just, uh, don't bring your hardcore Southern Baptist friends.
Get The Chronicle straight to your inbox
Signup for our weekly newsletter. Cancel at any time.