So watching paint dry CAN be fun
STANLEY TUCCI is not only a hugely engaging actor but also a dab hand behind the camera, as demonstrated by this quirky, charming, whimsical film, which he also wrote, set in Paris in 1964.
It covers a fortnight in the life of Swiss artist Alberto Giacometti, during which his friend, U.S. critic James Lord, sat for a portrait.
A wild-haired Geoffrey Rush is perfectly cast as the charismatic, eccentric, maddening, brilliant Giacometti, who flaunted his prostitute lover (Clemence Poesy) in front of his wife (Sylvie Testud), and hid huge wads of banknotes in the toilet. Armie Hammer is very good, too, as Lord, as neat and controlled as Giacometti is untidy and tormented.
Lord kept sitting for the portrait, again and again postponing his flight home, and Giacometti kept failing to finish it. That’s more or less all that happens, but, slight and theatrical as Final Portrait is, it happens exquisitely.