At Eternity’s Gate (Julian Schnabel, 2018): Ireland | Switzerland | United Kingdom | France | United States

Reviewed by Nico Kalin, Viewed at SBIFF.

Van Gogh is a sloppy mess of a film; the production feels rushed, with long takes, stuffing tons of dialogue with chaotic camera movements, and it’s beautiful. Gauguin criticized Van Gogh’s art in the same way. It just took the right kind of audience to understand it. 

At Eternity’s Gate feels like the self-portrait Van Gogh would have made if he were to own a camera. At times it can be uncomfortably personal, and then it’s calm and beautiful. We understand the world the way Van Gogh sees it; we experience his torment, but we also see his innocence. This film is yet another of Julian Schnabel’s pieces on the tortured artist. William Dafoe leads as Van Gogh, and I learned that for this role, Schnabel personally taught Dafoe how to paint like Van Gogh. It was fitting for Schnabel to make this film; he studied Van Gogh, and as a painter himself, he has the instinct to make this film come to life. William Dafoe brings so much emotion into this role. He captures the moments of innocence and bliss as Van Gogh runs through a field or throws dirt on his face. He also captures his anguish in the moments when Gauguin, played by Oscar Isaac, leaves Van Gogh. He can escalate a scene through dialogue, and maintain that performance through physical expression, and in some moments, his expressions alone carry the scene profoundly. 

Schnabel heightens Dafoe’s performance by pairing it with sporadic camera movement, shot by Benoit Delhomme. There are moments we see the camera left on the ground, holding a shot for mere seconds before being picked right back up. It feels youthful; there is an innocent play to the camera work, similar to how a kid might use a camera. It reflects the style of Van Gogh as a painter, quick and messy strokes, but full of intention and innocence. The camera movement amplifies with Van Gogh’s anxiety, as mental strain builds, so does the camera movement. And then there are still moments, Van Gogh explaining why he cut off his ear, it’s eerily still(sorry for the pun), despite the dark and twisted thoughts that Van Gogh has and discusses. It shows he is in control in these moments, his thoughts are clear, and he has come to terms with his circumstances. 

Color is another big part of this film, and less obviously, the use of improper white balance. When Gauguin leaves Van Gogh, we go from properly balanced warm interior lighting to a cold, blue, and dark outdoors, which plays into William Dafoe’s performance of utter despair for the loss of his friend. As the film progresses, we see more and more of Van Gogh’s point of view. In the beginning, it is not so prevalent. Van Gogh is much freer; he is an aspiring artist with the world to capture, criticism and mental strain begin to consume him, and with that, the camera moves closer and closer. And when Van Gogh breaks, it’s as if we merge with him as an audience, we break with him, and now we are stuck inside; we can’t help but see his point of view. 

By the end, we are literally seeing through Van Gogh’s yellow calloused eyes, which was very reminiscent of the visual distortion in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. At this point, it shouldn’t be considered a spoiler that Van Gogh dies, and it’s important to talk about because the final scene speaks volumes about Van Gogh’s life. Van Gogh lies dead in an open-faced coffin, surrounded by his paintings, and finally, people begin to admire and acquire his work, the tragic irony of a truly authentic artist.