Artists speak through their paintings and, often, their lives are not that interesting. "Van Gogh" gave us a good screen character because that film maximally milked his neurotic excesses. Very recently, "The Girl With a Pearl Earring" concocted a fantasy vision of long ago Delft and framed without fear of contradiction by scholars the life of an artist, Vermeer, about whom very, very little is known.
In 1936, the great age of the Studio System, Alexander Korda produced and directed "Rembrandt," a sprawling and somewhat disjointed portrait (pun intended) of Rembrandt van Rijn. Charles Laughton alternates as a boisterous or then somewhat subdued Rembrandt. He loses his wife to illness and then takes up with a domestic, Geertje, played by Gertude Lawrence. Lawrence is fine as a woman who combines common sense with hectoring but who, in the process, sacrifice's the relationship's initial passion to hnadling daily burdens.
This Rembrandt has no idea that in the future his paintings will be quite desired by museums and thieves, including celluloid ones. He paints, he proclaims, what he sees and not what his patrons want. A huge painting of the Civic Guard is unveiled to shock and denunciations as, Goyaesque, the contributors to the fund for the painting see themselves savagely lampooned.
A new model, Hendrickje, charmingly acted by a beautiful and youthful Elsa Lanchester, steals Rembrandt's heart and body, leaving the long suffering Geertje out in the cold.
Rembrandt's relationship with Hendricktje is the most charming part of a film that blends unconvincingly connected scenes together. There's too much noise: Rembrandt paints, Rembrandt drinks (a lot), Rembrandt is hounded by creditors, Rembrandt runs back to dad. Laughton's acting carries the film and when he occupies center stage he is never less than attention-grabbing. But this isn't the Charles Laughton of "Mutiny on the Bounty," there a riveting character. Laughton's Rembrandt is a fellow one might care to sip smooth Holland gin with but he's no character with a deep soul inviting speculation and drawing the best from a great actor.
"Rembrandt" is a studio product well representative of its time. On that basis it merits enjoyable viewing.
8/10.
In 1936, the great age of the Studio System, Alexander Korda produced and directed "Rembrandt," a sprawling and somewhat disjointed portrait (pun intended) of Rembrandt van Rijn. Charles Laughton alternates as a boisterous or then somewhat subdued Rembrandt. He loses his wife to illness and then takes up with a domestic, Geertje, played by Gertude Lawrence. Lawrence is fine as a woman who combines common sense with hectoring but who, in the process, sacrifice's the relationship's initial passion to hnadling daily burdens.
This Rembrandt has no idea that in the future his paintings will be quite desired by museums and thieves, including celluloid ones. He paints, he proclaims, what he sees and not what his patrons want. A huge painting of the Civic Guard is unveiled to shock and denunciations as, Goyaesque, the contributors to the fund for the painting see themselves savagely lampooned.
A new model, Hendrickje, charmingly acted by a beautiful and youthful Elsa Lanchester, steals Rembrandt's heart and body, leaving the long suffering Geertje out in the cold.
Rembrandt's relationship with Hendricktje is the most charming part of a film that blends unconvincingly connected scenes together. There's too much noise: Rembrandt paints, Rembrandt drinks (a lot), Rembrandt is hounded by creditors, Rembrandt runs back to dad. Laughton's acting carries the film and when he occupies center stage he is never less than attention-grabbing. But this isn't the Charles Laughton of "Mutiny on the Bounty," there a riveting character. Laughton's Rembrandt is a fellow one might care to sip smooth Holland gin with but he's no character with a deep soul inviting speculation and drawing the best from a great actor.
"Rembrandt" is a studio product well representative of its time. On that basis it merits enjoyable viewing.
8/10.