Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) — Riley Cross Reviews

Why you should add this to your queue now

I remember when the last Blockbuster finally closed its doors—the buzzers weren't working, the plastic floors were sticky, but I ATE that job up. For six years, I watched people come in looking for “a classic” or “something with Kevin Costner,” mostly ignoring the fact that they could watch anything on their laptops for free by then. You, however, landed on StungEvents for a reason. You want a Night In. You want to stay under the duvet, maybe order the pizza you promised you wouldn't, but you want it to feel like something. You want a mood. I put Portrait of a Lady on Fire at the top of the list for you. It’s Céline Sciamma, it’s a period piece, and it is drop-dead gorgeous.

This isn't the kind of movie where the couple makes out against a lamppost while explosions happen in the background or a car chase tears up the streets of Tokyo. This is a slow, agonizingly beautiful burn that feels like being buried under a heavy, weighted blanket while it rains. It’s emotional, yes, but it’s smart emotional. It’s the kind of movie that insists you stay present. Watch it on a night when you have absolutely zero obligations—not even to make yourself look halfway decent. It requires total attention, which feels luxurious in a world full of bird-boxes and auto-play previews.

There’s a specific moment I think about whenever I recommend this—the scene where the artist, Marianne, teaches her subject, Héloïse, to paint. They are in these dark, claustrophobic rooms, and the handholding is so subtle it’s terrifying. It’s so quiet you can practically hear the dust motes dancing, and for some reason, that makes the tension louder than any jump scare your mom ever used to tell you about. It makes you want to put your phone on Airplane Mode and just look.

I’d say this is best for a rainy Tuesday or a Friday when the Wi-Fi cuts out just so you have to stare at the art instead of looking for quips on Twitter. It’s two hours and twenty-one minutes long, so you’ll definitely need that second glass of wine before the credits roll to get through the goodbye.

Bottom line: A fiercely romantic tearjerker that turns quiet intensity into a visceral masterpiece.