Frida Kahlo is now recognised as one of the most important and famous pop culture figures of the past 100 years. But while she gained more notoriety towards the end of her short life – she died at the age of 47 in 1954 – the Mexican painter’s work was mostly overlooked while she was alive.
Carla Gutierrez’s stunning and immersive documentary Frida does an incredible job of telling Kahlo’s remarkable story. Most of the dialogue used is from the artist’s letters, writings, and illustrated diaries and the documentary is told from her point of view, using her words, and from her perspective.
Gutierrez also uses animation to dive into Kahlo’s paintings, drawings, portraits, and self-portraits, which delightfully complement the voice-over of her innermost thoughts and desires. The result is an exploration of her work and life in a manner that most other documentaries could only dream of.
Of course, Gutierrez and her team are lucky that Kahlo left so much intimate and vulnerable material for them to use. But they utilise it in such a mesmeric and authentic manner that Kahlo fans will never have felt so close to the artist. Even people with just a passing knowledge of Kahlo will come away appreciating and understanding her life, her work, and the pain she endured and then depicted in her art.
With a running time of only 87 minutes, Frida indeed whooshes by with a verve and pace that ensures it’s always fascinating. There was so much to Kahlo, though, that Frida might actually have benefited from being longer. Certain aspects of her life – such as her politics, skills, legacy and death – aren’t given the attention viewers will be craving. Though it makes sense the latter two aren’t touched upon as much, considering the documentary is from Kahlo’s perspective.
What Frida does do, though, is give riveting insight into how Kahlo’s creativity and point of view were born. Gutierrez uses a mix of family photos and archival footage of Mexico City to show the influence of her father Guillermo, a photographer and atheist, who was the catalyst for Kahlo’s inquisitive, provocative, playful, honest, and empathetic outlook, all of which bled into her work.
Where Gutierrez’s direction really shines, though, is in the way she depicts the devastating bus accident that Kahlo was in at the age of 18 and the impact it had on her. This pushed Kahlo from being a medical student to becoming an artist. At the same time, her injuries were so severe that she suffered agony for the rest of her life and in her last few years she could barely stand or sit, needing to have her leg amputated.
In the sequences where we hear Kahlo, who is magnificently voiced by Fernanda Echeverria del Rivero, talking about her toil and discomfort, Gutierrez simultaneously dives into the intense and vibrant self-portraits she created, giving viewers a deeper comprehension of Kahlo’s pain, as well as a unique viewing experience.
It’s not all doom and gloom, though. While her marriage to the womanising Riviera was undeniably topsy-turvy, Kahlo’s honest thoughts on America while they visited there for his work are hilarious to hear. She had a huge disdain for high society, while the longer they stayed in the States, the more she couldn’t understand the entire country’s pursuit of materialism, especially considering that so many people were experiencing the Great Depression at the time.
Plus, the stories of her own affairs, her rebellious spirit in school, and her artistic recognition and growth during the late 1930s and 1940s show that Kahlo had a lust for life that was sadly hampered by her failing health. Frida doesn’t just bring her back to life, it allows her to tell her story in her own words, while highlighting why her work will forever be immortal.
Frida is now streaming on Amazon Prime globally
