The now-famous painter has cemented her place in history as a marxist and a example of a sexually free woman of the early 20th century
I took four years of Spanish in high school. I have studied everything from modern culture to ancient history to folk tales. I could just as easily tell you what the word “mantaquilla” means (butter) as I could tell you how to politely ask to go to the bathroom (¿Podría ir al baño, por favor?). Yet, somehow, I managed to learn about the self-driving cars being developed in Spain as well as the struggle for independence in Catalonia, but I never once encountered anything about Frida Kahlo, the celebrated self-portrait painter, until I watched the 2002 biopic Frida.
I am writing this column because I believe everyone deserves to learn about such an amazing person.
However, be wary. This movie is rated “R” for a good reason. A defining feature of Kahlo was her bisexuality. If profanity and nudity aren’t really your thing, you might end up skipping through a good 20 minutes worth of T and A. Though, the sexual scenarios of the film are pretty tame, though.
The movie begins in 1925 when Kahlo was left severely disabled after a trolley accident. No one expected her to be able to walk again but she pulled through and went on to lead an incredibly interesting life. Kahlo goes on to join the marxist movement in Mexico and eventually meets painter Diego Rivera, whom she later marries. The rest of the movie follows her triumphs and falls as an artist and, more importantly, as a person.
I really like this movie because it’s driven mainly by its goal to show the audience the life and times of Kahlo who, consequently, proved to be arguably the world’s most interesting person.
To Americans in the ‘30s and ‘40s, Frida was an oddity. She was an artist, a sexual deviant, a housewife, a disabled person, a dreamer, an occasional cross dresser and a marxist. But now that Americans have mostly overturned old inhibitions about what a person could and couldn’t be, Kahlo’s experiences are now the experiences of many.
This movie reminds people that despite our unique political and social beliefs, our ideologies are paper thin when it comes to everyone’s struggle with the human condition. We are all able to understand grief. It doesn’t matter if you’re a mother or not. When Kahlo miscarries, you understand how much it must hurt to lose a child. When she catches her husband sleeping with her sister, you understand how much his infidelity must hurt her.
The pain that Frida experiences has become universal. This movie, much like her paintings, is celebrated because so many can understand Kahlo’s suffering. I applaud Frida for transforming Kahlo, who is often righteously portrayed as a symbol of feminism, into an everyman. Her story is not just for the women — it is for everyone who has ever known suffering or hope.
This movie has no message to teach as typical of a biography. It simply shows the life of an incredible woman who lived the life she led against all odds.
Kaitlyn McGarvey is a freshman studying journalism. What do you know about Frida Kahlo? Email her at km451814@ohio.edu or tweet @McGarveyKaitlyn.
