“A sharp, attentive curio that explores creativity as a form of therapy and emotional catharsis in challenging times.”

You can tell quite a bit about someone and their artistic tastes based on the person they associate with the name “Carrington” – for some, this refers to Dora Carrington, who was a cherished member of the Post-Impressionist movement and whose life tragically ended when she was far too young; while for others, it evokes Leonora Carrington, whose work made her a defining figure of the Surrealist movement. Outside of both being incredibly influential female British painters who made valuable contributions to different styles of 20th-century art, they were quite dissimilar. Starting this discussion on the ambiguity between two artists that are commonly mistaken for each other is not arbitrary, since it informs the construction of Leonora in the Morning Light in subtle, and perhaps even entirely unconventional ways. Written and directed by Thor Klein and Lena Vurma, the film is an adaptation of the novel Leonora by journalist Elena Poniatowska (herself a celebrated artist in her native Mexico). It follows the life of the titular painter as she leaves her home in England and finds sanctuary – both artistic and spiritual – in Mexico City and its surroundings, where she lived for the majority of her life, even coming to consider herself a member of the community that so wholeheartedly embraced her. The film follows a few chapters in her life, primarily the years surrounding the Second World War, which the story posits was her impetus for leaving Europe and seeking a new home on another continent, offering poignant and poetic insights into her life and career.

A simple and effective drama that follows Carrington as she undergoes a voyage of self-discovery, documenting her journey through her art, Leonora in the Morning Light is a sharp, attentive curio that explores creativity as a form of therapy and emotional catharsis in challenging times. To even refer to the domestic life and professional career of an artist feels redundant, since this film (like many others that tackle similar thematic ideas) demonstrates how they can effectively blur together, informing one another and changing the way someone perceives the world that surrounds them. Carrington was one of the early proponents of the Surrealist movement, and the film follows her interactions with luminaries such as Salvador Dalí, André Breton and Max Ernst. They are all considered essential voices in this crusade against conventional forms of artistic expression, using their respective artistic methods and media in much the same way as she did – tools to rebel against normality and reflect the absurdity inherent to existence, but which had been entirely neglected by previous movements in which reality was the priority. It may not be the most thorough exploration of Surrealism or the Dadaist movement (and should not be viewed as such), but in exploring the trials and tribulations of a truly complex individual and her continuous attempts to filter her unconventional understanding of the world that surrounded her into challenging and provocative works, Klein and Vurma do manage to make some intriguing statements on their subject’s fascinating and unique existence.

Part of the reason Leonora in the Morning Light manages to be quite effective despite covering familiar narrative territory comes from how it approaches the subject. Carrington had a long life, and died just over a decade ago. Rather than employing the expected cradle-to-grave biographical structure, the directors select several moments from her first few years living and working in Mexico, using this as the foundation for the narrative, giving them the opportunity to truly engage with the smaller details. A large part of the credit must go to Olivia Vinall, who portrays Carrington for the entirety of the film, starting off with a rambunctious young immigrant finding her home in the Americas, and following her journey as she matures and begins to see different sides of the world for which she had such an enormous fascination. Much like the film that surrounds her, Vinall focuses less on the spectacle and more on the intricate details – films about visual artists are not always particularly enthralling, considering they tend to have subdued personalities (with the likes of Pablo Picasso and the aforementioned Dali being exceptions to the rule) and mostly work in isolation. The film does make a concerted effort to peer beneath the veneer, exploring the internal life of this character, which could only occur with the right pairing of material and performer. It also helps that Klein and Vurma do focus on creating a memorable visual palette as well – the film features several stunning shots, and while it is quite clear that it is a small production, several creative embellishments and meaningful diversions add nuance and complexity to the endeavour.

Ultimately, Leonora in the Morning Light is precisely the film that it promises to be at the outset – it doesn’t reinvent the genre, nor does it challenge conventions in any discernible way, choosing instead to be more reliable than it is innovative. This may seem like a slight betrayal of Carrington’s legacy, but rather than attempting to redefine this style of storytelling the directors focus on evoking the spirit of her work, peppering the film with some unorthodox techniques and creative flourishes that highlight the fascinating and complex mind of the subject and her perspective on the outside world and the art she produced as a means to work through her personal existential quandaries. A subtle film about someone who did not view art as purely a pleasant diversion, but rather her life’s true calling that provided her with a creative outlet and allowed her to see the world in an entirely different way, it focuses on the seemingly inconsequential minutiae that went unexplored for centuries before the rise of Surrealism and its rejection of tradition and conventions. A well-crafted, handsomely made drama that celebrates art, rather than exclusively being a biographical account of its subject, Leonora in the Morning Light is an effective tribute to an artistic visionary. Leonora Carrington may not be as revered as some of her contemporaries, but as the film vividly shows throughout, she is more than worthy of the same level of adulation and admiration.