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epitome of incomprehensibility
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There's a movie called this now. I saw this with my parents, because I paid for everyone, and when you pay you feel beholden to the people who aren't paying, and by "you" I mean me(rry quite contrary).
It had its share of clee-shays (no annoying phonetic spelling, though) but an interesting thing I'd miss if I hadn't looked at the credits? Binoche did the paintings herself. She was playing an art teacher and she made the character's paintings herself. Colour me impressed. And purple. I like purple.
A major criticism of this movie is that purple was not a prominent colour in the artwork displayed.
Or that words vs. pictures is a bit of a flimsy pretext for an intellectual rivalry, let alone the romance. There was a subplot about a student (boy) shaming another (girl) by distributing a naked cartoon of her with racist overtones when he couldn't get her to like him. The plot punished him. By contrast, the points where English Teacher (man) was harassing Art Teacher (woman) weren't punished in the same way because Plot dictated that Words and Pictures should get together. Perhaps by introducing some of its more serious elements it was biting off more than it could chew. But Juliette Binoche was impressive and the secondary characters were interesting.
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