Van Gogh was a lunatic who cut off his ear. Picasso was a self-absorbed cur who abused women. Warhol turned out to be a weird, desperate loner, Basquiat a doomed junkie. Try as he might, shriveled little Toulouse-Lautrec failed miserably at romance. As for El Greco's explosive affair with that... More >>>
In Pollock, Ed Harris helps us feel the tingle of discovery, but the thrill doesn't last long.