Hilma

The story of abstract artist Hilma af Klint is told in well-appointed if disappointingly routine fashion in Lasse Hallström's biopic. His daughter Tora stars as the artist as a young woman, while she is played in the final days of her life by his wife Lena Olin in scenes that more or less bookend the film.

The meat of the action, however, shows Hilma at the start of her artistic career, which, following a family tragedy in her teens, led her to seek spiritual succour via the seances, which Hallström's suggests were largely the province of women in late 18th century Sweden. In what proves an inspirational creative mix for Hilma, she was also heavily influenced by her scientist grandfather and father, meaning that she was both seeking for the minutiae of the physical and the essence of the spiritual.

The film has feminist ideas at its core as Hilma forges a romantic relationship with fellow artist Anna Cassel (Catherine Chalk), while studying and the pair form an artistic and spiritualist group with artists Sigrid Hedman (Maeve Demody), and sisters Mathilda Nilsson (Lily Cole) and Cornelia Cederberg (Rebecca Calder), who became known as The Five. There’s a paradox at work, in that though the women have faith in their artistic sensibility, with Hilma strongly believing her work was being guided by a higher power, she is also seen to constantly seek the endorsement of philosopher Rudolf Steiner (Tom Wlaschiha), whose writings she idolised.

The ingrained sexism of the society Hilma operated within is apparent not just in the dismissive tone used for art - “You can’t even tell it was painted by a woman” but at home where her mother laments, “Can’t you just, for once, do something that girls would do”. This means it's easy to see why the women pulled together, although Hallström’s desire to cover such a lot of ground means that he’s unable to dive deeply into anything, so that both her relationships and her artwork feel diminished. The acting, too, is variable, with Tora Hallström feeling rather lightweight in comparison to the older incarnation offered by Olin, with Chalk and Cole making the stronger impression in their supporting roles.

There are hints of what might have been as Hallström employs animation briefly to help Hilma’s artwork come alive or uses archive street scenes blended with his own film to give an abstract suggestion of period. It’s a shame he wasn’t bolder in his use of the canvas of Hilma’s life, opting more for a careful still life approach to her history than the abstract adventurousness she merits.