Seraphine is this bumbling, childish, 'naive' woman. She is a humble cleaner who has a penchant for walks in the countryside and yet she paints gorgeously.

This film is very straight-forward. Its your usual artists tale and Seraphine depiction is rather clichéd. That artists are misunderstood, outcasts, and have crazed or in this case crazed religious beliefs. So the story isn't new, but it's told with simplicity and directness. The cinematography and art direction reflect this, nothing fancy here. The plot is again simple no twists to get lost on, little subtlety and few characters.

It's this simplicity from which the film draws its realism. That and the acting of Seraphine. The actress was spectacular, Seraphine is not an easy part to play, this innocence and true crazed underpinnings. Special note at hobbling, awkward walk, and difficult breathing. Another thing is that there are no beautiful people. Hollywood seems to have this obsession with beauty, so much so that everyone in their films is beautiful, Hollywood would never make Seraphine but if they did there's no doubt they have made her a stunner.

The beginning of this film is marvelous, as I went in not knowing what Seraphine was about and for the first say half hour we saw her as others saw her and when she started doing these weird things I thought, she is crazy! Then, when she started painting I went, Oh! The surprise was delightful. The film then went on in a regular way but I don't like the ending, I think perhaps I just feel sorry for her.

The paintings are crazy like her, they're intense and the flowers sinister and unreal. The paintings show that under the simplicity, there's something more. And that is like this film.

Cinema is a language of deception. The set we see, the mise-en-scene, is what the director wants us to see. Conditioning us visually before an actor even speaks their lines. In costume dramas, the historical clothing is a further weapon to impress a specific artistic vision on us, further cloaking any subtext, whether the transformation of a marriage market story into 'rom-com' (Pride & Prejudice) or consciously travestying the past (Moulin Rouge!, Marie Antoinette). French cinema has achieved respected and less controversial use of costume with films like Jean de Florette and Manon des sources. In these examples, beautiful, nostalgic settings were contrasted with dystopian visions of the hard life. When we move to the biopic, cinematic techniques are routinely used to persuade us of 'what really happened.' Séraphine continues the proud French tradition of costume and historical drama, yet in a very accessible vein. It tells the (true) story of a minor French painter, Séraphine Louis (later known as Séraphine de Senlis, after the village where she lived.) Our story picks up Séraphine working as a maid for Madame Duphot. This lady of the house also rents an apartment to a German art critic-dealer, Wilhelm Uhde. Uhde believes in the 'primitive' artists and takes a liking to some of the maid's work he spots. Yolande Moreau's assured performance gives weight to what may be an unvarnished account. The discovery of the peasant woman's talent, her humble charm as she goes about collecting the ingredients for paint (wine, mud, fruits, flowers) as she goes about her chores as a domestic servant. Everything draws us sympathetically into Séraphine's world.

Udhe nurtures Séraphine's embryonic talent, ensuring it is seen worldwide. But as war hits the economy, support evaporates. Séraphine's inner voices of inspiration lead her to psychosis and she meets her demise in an insane asylum.

The painting itself is of the so-called 'naïve' style, characterized by childlike simplicity. (One of the most famous exponents, according to some, is L. S. Lowry.) The style seems natural to the childlike (if brilliant) personality of our peasant woman, although of course many naive art painters, including Lowry had, unlike Séraphine, plenty of schooling and formal knowledge of art technique.

Production values in the film are high all round. Costume, acting, direction, all achieve a high standard, as evidenced by the many awards heaped on it in its own country. The overall effect is touching without being sentimental.

Séraphine is a continuation of one woman's barely recognised legacy. Any subtext is about serving up a fine character from France's past, a commemoration of national greatness from the early 20th century. (Visits to the exhibition of her work in Senlis have, predictably, quadrupled since the release of the film.) If there is any ideological weakness, it is simply that held by the character herself, a Christian attitude of sacrifice and acceptance of fate. There is no strong judgement on whether Séraphine could have lived her life differently. No real analysis of her painting style. It is, after all, a classy and enchanting fairy tale hung on the hook of a historical person, a harmless deception perhaps. The viewer, should she or he wish, can make their own judgement. Just as they can on the deeply religious and fairly distinctive artworks she left for posterity.

The French movie Séraphine traces two decades of the life of Séraphine de Senlis, a French painter, self-taught, of very modest origin and died in misery. By chance, during the same week, I saw At Eternity's Gate and then Séraphine. Obviously, two very different ways of filming for 2 distinct painters with both an all-consuming passion and a growing madness. What if? What would have happened if Séraphine de Senlis had been exposed in 1913, rue Notre Dame des Champs, within Paris, by Wilhelm Uhde, and if the First World War had not occurred?