Review

by Natacha V

where's the art?

I've never understood the appeal of Anthony Hopkins. Whilst every critic in the world seems to want to hold him up as some kind of acting colossus, he seems to do little more than just be Anthony Hopkins in a variety of different outfits. So here we get the usual fast-talking-then-a-pause routine in the guise of the most famous artist of the 20th century - Pablo Picasso. Apparently Picasso was a notorious womaniser, who had women throwing themselves at him well into old-age. This may well have been the case, but it becomes a little less credulous when this artistic lothario comes in the form of the tubby, bored-looking British thespian. Added to this Merchant Ivory weren't allowed the use of images of Picasso's work so we rarely see more than the back of a canvas whilst Hopkins holds a brush. In short, utterly underwhelming.