This art house film unfolds as a sequence of nearly two dozen vignettes drawn from the life of Gustav Klimt, presented through his recollections while he endures mercury treatment in a hospital for advanced syphilis. The framing paints Klimt as a towering figure in late-19th to early-20th-century Vienna, where his art is celebrated across society and his name is synonymous with a daring, radiant vision.
Across the dreamlike memories, Klimt’s lifelong fascination with the beauty of the female form drives both his art and his restless personal life. His studio is a constant theater of nude models who pose for his drawings and oil paintings, and he moves with a remarkable openness about sexuality, casually forming intimate relationships with many of these muses. The film suggests that several of these relationships yield children, a theme that threads through his recollections as he navigates memory, guilt, and artistic obsession. In one striking moment, a younger man is introduced to a prostitute as Klimt’s daughter during a visit to a local brothel; when asked if this is true, Klimt calmly replies that he does not know, and the evening continues.
A recurring figure appears in the visualized episodes: an unnamed government official who seems to secure commissions from the Ministry of Culture for Klimt. When a three-panel order arises, Klimt executes the canvases and they are displayed at a grand government reception. The reception’s reception is mixed, yet Klimt’s standing as a major artist is acknowledged, bridging divides between high and low officials who observe his triumphs with equal parts admiration and scrutiny. Throughout these scenes, the presence of Egon Schiele—another Austrian artist—visits Klimt at various points, appearing as a contemporary commentator and participant within Klimt’s life’s recollections.
The film also traces Klimt’s two principal love affairs: Emilie Floege, a friend from Austria, and Lea de Castro, an actress from Paris. His attraction to both women centers on their embodiment of beauty, and at one juncture he even contemplates marriage to Emilie on the condition that it be an open marriage, illustrating a complex stance toward companionship and freedom that runs counter to conventional expectations.
A haunting sequence places Klimt with his mother and sister, both of whom are under care in an asylum for the mentally ill. They confront him with questions about rumors of illegitimate children, and Klimt reiterates that he does not know how many children he fathered or where many of them are. As his mercury treatment continues, his memories increasingly foreground the aesthetic triumphs of his art—the glow of color, the tension of line, and the beauty he sought to capture—while moral judgments linger in the background as secondary to the creative life he prizes.
The narrative crescendos with Klimt’s passing during the course of the treatment, yet his final recollections remain saturated with the splendor of art. The film leaves viewers with a meditation on memory, fame, and the enduring impulse of a man who measured life not by norms, but by the transformative power of beauty and expression.
