Artemisia (1998) (review)

Tibbetts ¡Artemisia {Ì998) John C. Tibbetts University of Kansas RAR03@aol.com Artemisia (1998) Directed by Agnes Merlet. Starring Valentina Cervi as Artemisia Gentileschi; Michel Serrault as Orazio Gentileschi; Miki Manojilovic as Agostino Tassi. Agnes Merlet's biopic ofArtemisia Gentileschi (15931653 ), the internationally renowned Italian female painter in the Caravaggio school, is as much a study in sexual and gender identification as it is about a crucial period in the maturing artistry of this remarkable woman. Here, they are tantamount to the same thing. Rome. 1610. The film opens (significantly, as it turns out) on a tight closeup of an eye. The shot widens to a full view of the wondering face ofyoung Artemisia Gentileschi (Valentina Cervi). Although she is in a convent, that intently gazing eye is averted from the religious ceremony and studying instead the frescoes on the wall. As she files out with the other novices , she secretly pilfers a candle and hides it beneath her robe. Later, huddled in bed by candlelight, she loosens her gown and studies her body from many angles in the mirror. It is an absorbing moment, and a defining one. It is not just a young woman curiously examining her maturing body; more importantly, it is an artist studying anatomy—particularly, her own anatomy (both an objective inquiry and an exercise in narcissism). It is a perfect precis for the entire film. When her father, the famous fresco artist Orazio Gentileschi (Michel Serrault), comes for a visit and sees her accomplished anatomical sketches, he is impressed. Pronouncing her ready to be an artist, he hurriedlywhisks her out ofthe convent, to the astonishment of the nuns, and takes her back to his studio as an apprentice. Her duties are limited, and she is relegated to putting the finishing details on her father's paintings . Butwhen it comes time to paint the nude male model, Artemisia is banished behind a curtain because female artists are forbidden to paint nude subjects. In defiance, Artemisia builds her own studio outdoors, away from her father's studio, and secretly bargains with her young fisherman friend, Fulvio, to become her nude model—a kiss in exchange for a few poses. When the Florentine painter, Agostino Tassi (Miki Manojilovik), famed for his mastery ofperspective, arrives to work on a Papal commission with Orazio, Artemisia petitions to study with him. He is reluctant at first to take on a female pupil; but after seeing her nude studies, he accepts her. She in turn is fascinated by this dashing, darkly handsome artist, whose penchant for painting outdoors—not to mention his taste for the local prostitutes—earns him a fair degree of scandal. Inevitably, perhaps, their sessions together turn into occasions for passionate lovemaking. When Orazio discovers his daughter's affair, he flies into a towering rage and confronts Agostino, almost knocking him off the scaffold where he is working on a fresco. Orazio hauls him into court on charges of raping his underage daughter. When Artemisia denies this, claiming still to be a virgin, she is subjected to a humiliating vaginal examination by a nun. (The composition and camera placement of the ensuing image, the poor girl supine on her back while the nun spreads wide her thighs, exactly resembles the precise moment earlier when Agostino had despoiled her virginity.) A little later, after refusing to condemn Agostino's actions in the affair, the court judge orders her to have her hands bound by constricting ropes until she confesses to the alleged rape. As her fingers begin to bleed, the distraught Agostino shouts out a confession to save her further injury. Agostino is sentenced to two years in prison. Artemisia packs up her things and prepares to leave. A series ofconcluding titles explains a few facts about her later life, including her position as the firstwoman to be elected to the Florentine Academy ofDesign and the first woman to accept Royal commissions. Few films—and I am considering such standbys in the genre as Alexander Korda's Rembrandt, Peter Watkins' Edvard Munch, and Robert Altman's Vincent and Theo— have so generously depicted the details and procedures of a painter's life. In this instance, the rough-hewn studios...