Klimt is based around liberally fictionalized flash backs of the artist’s life and various affairs as he lies on his deathbed. He’s suffering from syphilis, which might explain the film’s disjointed and difficult to follow series of cluttered scenes that can’t possibly be assembled into a plot.

What’s worse is that not one character, not even the lead Gustav Klimt, is given enough depth to become likable. I came to realize at the end of the film that I knew no more about the man than I did at the beginning.

Inexplicable and highly distracting are scenes in which random characters speak their native language with subtitles while others carry out their dialogues in English.

Although the film is as visually stunning as a Klimt painting, it lacks so heavily in every other department of good filmmaking that one might as well watch it casually while muted.

Even John Malkovich in the lead role can’t save this movie from its art-movie malaise.

Extras: making-of featurette and original trailer.

Grade: C-

Klimt is currently available.