Van Gogh: Painted With Words (2010)

 

In my continuing tour of Benedict Cumberbatch’s work, I came across this interesting TV movie that aired on the BBC a few months before Sherlock first premiered.  It’s actually more of a documentary with extensive semi-dramatized portions, exploring Vincent van Gogh’s life through his correspondence.  Aside from some narration, everything spoken in the film is taken from letters written by or to van Gogh.  In that way, it sort of reminded me of Inside the Mind of Leonardo, which I watched during Capaldi Fall, but with less trippy imagery and a stronger narrative bent.

 

Aside from an appreciation for van Gogh’s paintings and a devoted love for Doctor Who’s “Vincent and the Doctor,” I can’t admit to knowing more than cliff notes of van Gogh’s life, so it was interesting to learn more.  The film is driven primarily by his letters to his younger, more stable brother Theo, chronicling his joys, loves, loneliness, preoccupations, and illness.  I was surprised to discover he only spent about 10 years really working at an artist – he spent almost a decade drifting in and out of various professions, forever taking on new passions and throwing himself into them with his whole being.  When he did become an artist, he similarly flitted between different styles, idols, and methods; each letter sings the praises of a new obsession.

 

As such, it’s not surprising that the documentary specifies his non-specific mental illness as bipolar disorder.  It’s a popular supposition, and it’s not hard to see in his whirlwind of fixations, clinging to each one as ardently as the last.  However, it’s also understandable why his family spent so long thinking he was merely enthusiastic and easily distracted.  There were times when they fretted over him, like when he lost yet another job or set his attentions too firmly on a woman they deemed inappropriate, but I get why they saw temperament rather than mania.  Van Gogh likewise didn’t appear to regard it as a problem; even putting aside the limited historical understanding of mental illness, manic episodes are easier to mistake for reckless abandon.  It’s the long bouts of depression that catch people’s notice, and it was the same for van Gogh.  Though he tried to combat it – keeping to a rigid work schedule, self-medicating with alcohol, changing his environment – it kept encroaching, and in the end, it took him.

 

Benedict Cumberbatch is really excellent as van Gogh, although in the early segments of the film, he looks so Sherlock-ish that it’s a little distracting.  Once the beard starts growing, he begins to look the part much more, and it’s easier to put Sherlock out of your head.  He’s alternately elated and despairing, bringing out the intense emotion of van Gogh’s words.  His earnest desire to leave the world a “souvenir of gratitude” in the form of his art is beautiful, and when he describes how he can’t bear to leave the house because he feels so desperately lonely when he goes out, your heart breaks for him.

 

The film, which also features former History Boy Jamie Parker as Theo, immerses itself in van Gogh’s work, from early sketches to copies of other artists’ well-known works to his own later masterpieces.  It’s rooted squarely in his heart, fitting for an artist who wished above all else for people to feel his paintings rather than study or appreciate them.