Frida (2002)
Directed by Julie Taymor
Written by Clancy Sigal

Salma Hayek must be credited with bringing the life of Mexican painter Frida Kahlo to the screen, but the script is so Hollywood that the end result feels like a gigantic compromise. Like, if this was to be a really good movie, it needed to be an indie film. But to reach the greatest number of people, it needed to be a studio production. What we have here is an art film buried deep under Hollywood horseshit.

Hayek contributes her stock "fiery-ness" to the role, trying to capture Kahlo's "whirlwind spirit" (I'm not actually sure who or what I think I'm quoting), but succeeding primarily in capturing her brattiness.

Alfred Molina is Diego Rivera, and while he's pretty good, it begs the question: were there no Mexican actors available? They might as well have cast Al Molinaro. And things really take a turn for the worse when Geoffrey Rush shows up as Leon Trotsky. Note to filmmakers: I don't want to think about, much less see depicted, Leon Trotsky having sex.

Ashley Judd is also on hand with a Mexican accent straight outta Brooklyn, though Edward Norton provides a breath of fresh air about halfway through. The non-celebrity members of the cast do much better, on the whole.

The art direction is fantabulous, bringing some of Kahlo's most striking paintings to life in a non-cheesy way, and all of the sets are completely beautiful. But the pacing is so slow that you feel like you're falling asleep in a crayon box, and Molina becomes more and more of a cartoon as the thing goes on.

It's a shame … this could and should have been a lot more entertaining and enlightening. I hate to say it, but I must admit, what impressed me most was discovering Salma Hayek's phenomenal breasts.

Review by Doug Rivers