Director: Ed Harris
Year Released: 2000
You know what? I am sick to death of artist-as-tortured-genius movies. I am tired of looking at them, thinking of them or knowing of them. All artists are twisted in some way: that's why they're artists, that's why they are famous. Picasso treated women like garbage; Pollock treats goy wife Lee Krasner like garbage. He does one of his abstract paintings: in order to clue you in that's good, Bud Cort's character has to stare at it and say, "It's genius!" This is like every other movie based on every other artist I have ever seen: the artist in question goes from obscurity to recognition to fame to disaster with equal parts serenity and horrible extravagance (Harris shouts obscenities at Clement Greenburg and Lee and then destroys something). The ending, with Pollock speeding down the road (much to the screaming horror of his passengers) to his ultimate demise is more humorous than tragic.