Previously on Genius...
Move in with me. Think how wonderful it would be.
APOLLINAIRE: This is Géry Pieret.
PIERET: Consider these a token of our new friendship.
PICASSO: You stole them?
-From the Louvre? -I liberated them.
There is a small delivery fee-- 50 francs.
-FERNANDE: Opium. -PICASSO: Have you tried it?
I want to make you happy, at least for a little while.
I am not your prisoner!
I made a mistake. I don't know what I would do if I lost you.
Pablo Picasso,
meet Henri Matisse.
I see you've already met, uh, Monsieur Braque.
He's the youngest of the "wild beasts," as they call us.
-What do you want? -You haven't surfaced in months.
Why do you care, Braque? We barely know each other.
I would like to change that.
I really do admire your work.
Oh, it's ghastly, Pablo.
That is the most astute art critique
you've ever given, Gertrude.
FERNANDE: Congratulations.
You said you wanted to offend. You've done it.
*
So, what is it like living with the most...
famous artist in the world?
We work. We go to museums.
We laugh.
And does he ask you to cook and clean for him, huh?
Like a good little wife?
Of course not.
-We make each other happy. -Right.
You get the rich old mentor,
and, uh, he gets the pretty, young mistress.
-You're determined to be cynical. -(laughs)
Well, I have no money... have no fame.
I just have the nagging thought that...
mmm, I should have kissed you
the first time I saw you at Rozsda's.
I had no idea you even noticed me.
(clears throat)
He's so old. Ugh. Does he take lots of naps?
(both laugh)
He's got more energy than I do.
-Oh. Really? -Mm. He works all night.
And then at dawn, he comes to bed,
and we make love all morning.
-So, Luc, tell me about Tunisia. -Well, I'll be teaching
at a small art school in Tunis.
I'm looking forward to getting out of Paris.
You should come and visit some time.
You and the old man.
PICASSO: Pack your bags!
Where are we going?
To the Midi. Fresh air, sunshine,
long lunches and lazy afternoons.
-That sounds lovely. -Hmm.
But I'm finally settled into a good routine here.
Ooh, to be settled
is the death of an artist. Mm-hmm.
Well, I'm getting a lot of work done.
(chuckles) Well, you can work there.
Sounds like you've made up your mind.
Well, you could resist me, but, uh, what would be the point?
When you said the Midi, I thought you meant the beach.
Oh, the sea is, uh, not far.
It's 80 kilometers that way.
I better pick up some groceries before the shops close.
-I'll go with you. -No, no. Stay with me.
I want to show you the rest of the house.
Would you mind, um, getting some ham and cheese... bread?
Oh, uh, and five or six eels.
And also I-I-I will need onions and, uh,
butter, sugar, salt pork, uh, flour, and celery.
Yeah, okay. Yeah, well. Do you like eels?
(chuckles)
Not particularly.
In my stew, you will love them.
(chopping)
You cook, I'll, uh... I'll clean.
No, no, no, no, no, no.
If you clean up, I won't be able to find anything.
Just-just leave it like that.
It's a work meant to shock, to challenge.
I would like to exhibit it in my gallery.
Once it's finished.
It is finished.
You should go.
Pablo, I'm sure Herr Kahnweiler meant no offense.
Thank you so much for coming.
-I'm sorry I upset him. -No. He's always upset.
It is, uh, part of his charm.
Did you have to be so rude?
-I liked him. -Well, he certainly felt it.
I cannot recommend him enough.
He's honest, discerning,
and he's buying up all the most innovative work.
You mean, like Matisse?
Among others.
You have not told me what you think of it yet.
It reminds me of El Greco.
The reflection of form is similar, but...
where El Greco believed in grace,
this has a savage, apocalyptic power.
It is completely new.
But I am sorry, Pablo,
as it was for poor El Greco,
it will be years before people understand what you have done.
So they'll appreciate me...
-(can clatters) -...when I'm dead and buried?
-Go easy on that. -I never go easy.
On anything.
You know, you don't have to live in squalor
and chaos to make great art.
Who are you to tell me how to live?
You have got to clean up, get out of this slum
before you go mad like Van Gogh,
slice off your ear and die in a gutter somewhere.
It's time for you to go.
Matisse needs his paints mixed.
(laughter)
-Ready? -Ah.
-Set. Go. -Yeah.
(laughs, squeals)
Ah!
Ah! Oh!
How? How on earth did you do that, Wiegels?
My mother taught me. She's an alcoholic.
-Uh-huh? -The trick is to open your throat.
So your father must be a very happy man, huh?
-(laughter) -Max!
Uh...
I love it.
Why?
Well, the colors,
the sense of movement, the...
FERNANDE: Oh, stop pretending, Karl.
Everyone hates it.
JACOB: Pablo.
Pablo, I believe that your dipsomaniacal,
debauched new neighbor has a perfect remedy
to lift your spirits, huh?
Uh...
(Jacob chuckles)
Pass me the pipe.
Hmm. How much?
Two francs.
(clears throat)
You-you can have it for five francs, Monsieur Picasso.
The canvas is good. You can paint right over it.
(scoffs) Are you mad?
It's a masterpiece.
-The artist, you know him? -Artist?
H-He's a customs clerk. Henri Rousseau.
Do you know where I can find him?
(knocking on door)
Monsieur Rousseau? Pablo Picasso.
I... I wrote to you.
Yeah. Come in.
How are things in Cairo?
I think you may have confused me with someone else.
No, no. Come in.
I had no idea you Egyptians were so...
timorous.
Guillaume.
-What are you doing here? -What does it look like?
We are having our portrait done.
Pablo, allow me to introduce
my new paramour and companion in chaos,
Marie Laurencin.
You are aware he is an utter degenerate?
-That's why I fell in love with him. -(laughs)
ROUSSEAU: Monsieur Picasso,
would you care to assess my progress?
A perfect likeness, wouldn't you say?
Yes. (chuckles)
You've captured them exactly.
(Apollinaire laughing)
That old idiot's a joke.
(both laughing)
PICASSO: If you feel that way,
why are you paying him to paint your portrait?
Our love is a mad thing.
It must be... immortalized
by an utter madman.
I'm going to hang it above my chamber pot.
Everybody deserves a good laugh when they take a piss.
(laughing)
You two are wrong about Rousseau.
The way he distorts proportions,
uses unnatural colors.
His work is strange. Primitive.
He does not care what people think.
Least of all two barbarians...
like you.
(both laughing)
You, my friend, have been smoking too much opium.
(both laughing)
You wasted our money on that?
Cost less than all the perfume you bought.
And I suppose it's better than your big ugly whore painting.
I'm going to throw Rousseau a huge party.
Invite everyone.
-Drinks, entertainment, a feast. -You complain about me
buying a few bottles of perfume.
Now you want to host a banquet for some nobody.
He's worked in obscurity for years.
But he's a genius.
It's just... nobody realizes it yet.
He deserves to be celebrated.
Are you talking about him or you?
*
(takes deep breath)
PICASSO: Ladies and gentlemen,
introducing our most honored guest,
Monsieur Henri Rousseau!
FERNANDE: Your Highness.
Oh. What a gorgeous goddess
-descended from Olympus is this? -(laughs)
Uh, Fernande,
uh, daughter of Bacchus,
god of wine, revelry,
and, uh, madness.
(chuckles): Oh.
You and I shall be great friends.
(Apollinaire clears throat loudly)
Uh, Picasso asked me to compose
some lines in your honor, monsieur.
"Look how young the city is,
"And you...
still only a toddler."
(laughter)
"You the lovely lily,
"A red-haired flame,
"A vain...
-peacock." -(laughter)
You listening to this twaddle?
Look. His masterpiece.
APOLLINAIRE: "In joy and desperation,
"The brandy you sip burns in your throat,
"Let the sun...
beheaded be."
ROUSSEAU: Friends,
gods...
and serfs.
Only with love can we live,
and, uh, only with joy
can we work.
All hail the customs clerk.
(laughter)
And only with vegetables
can we make palaces for kings and queens.
(laughter)
(clapping, shouting)
Quite a party.
Where's Matisse?
Must have a colorful painting to finish.
-Needs to organize his pigments. -Uh-huh.
(chuckling quietly)
FERNANDE: My goodness, Henri, monsieur.
It seems my brains are on fire.
No. No, no, no, my dear.
I love my crown.
(laughter)
JACOB: He's as daft
as a dandelion!
If canvas wasn't so abrasive,
I would cut up his picture and use it to wipe my ass.
I have seen your work, Wiegels.
That man is a true artist.
A master.
You are nothing but a fraud.
ROUSSEAU: I cannot thank you enough.
I am the one who should be thanking you.
You've inspired me.
(Rousseau groans)
You... discovered me.
And in one night, you brought sweetness and glory
to a... a lifetime of struggle.
I hope this happens to you someday.
We are the best painters in the world.
(groans): Me in the modern style,
and you...
in the Egyptian.
(mumbles)
*
First Casagemas.
Now Wiegels.
What are you talking about?
I abandoned Carles, and...
I insulted Wiegels.
It's my fault again.
(Picasso sighs)
He was...
a sweet soul.
Harmless.
And I was cruel to him.
He was a calamity.
Don't blame yourself.
What are you doing?
Braque was right.
No more of this.
(sighs)
Maybe if we smoke just a little.
Think of Spain.
The mountains.
And the blue sky.
Close your eyes.
-(screams) -God! What?
What's going on?
Oh.
Oh, my God, they're everywhere.
Y-You know that I am a Scorpio.
It's my zodiac sign. Yeah.
It's not funny. They're poisonous.
Dora was stung once.
She's still alive.
You came here with Dora?
Yeah, of course. This is her house.
(laughs)
Wasn't it nice of her to lend it to us?
Oh, yes, I'm so grateful.
-Uh, where are you going? -To get a broom.
Hey, Françoise.
Françoise, Françoise. (chuckles)
Leave it. It's just that y-you have to learn to be,
um...
more messy.
Relax. (chuckles)
Come back to bed.
I'm not sleeping in there. Not with these things.
We can sleep in another room.
Just choose one.
It's all the same to me.
As long as I am with you.
Ah, all right.
PICASSO: Oh.
(sighs) Is this messy enough for you?
Ah.
(Picasso grunts)
(Françoise laughs)
BRAQUE: You really cleaned up.
Yes. And unlike Van Gogh,
I still have both my ears.
(laughs)
Come in.
*
My God.
You've been busy.
What do you think?
It's completely new.
It is because of you.
You inspired me.
Your brothel painting.
It showed me how to, uh...
see things...
differently.
For 400 years, art has failed to evolve
because of this obsession with perspective.
But... it's a trick of the eye.
The vanishing point, it takes...
everything away from the viewer.
Yes. You're right.
What we must do is
make the vanishing point...
vanish.
*
That is exactly what I've been trying to do.
I knew if anyone would grasp it, it would be you.
PICASSO: We must do more
than challenge the rules of perspective.
All the rules--
light, color, form--
must be questioned.
We have to rip everything apart
to create a new kind of painting.
We should submit our work to the Autumn Salon.
Start the revolution.
Matisse is a judge this year.
Anything I put forward, he will dismiss.
You submit.
-You are throwing me to the lions? -No.
You're his protégé.
Whatever you show, he will like it.
And imagine how angry he is going to be
when he realizes that by approving of you,
he will be approving of me.
You are working with Picasso, aren't you?
The angular planes,
the distortion...
I see that horrific painting of his here.
We are trying to do something new.
You just don't understand it.
I'm sorry, Georges,
but... I cannot recommend this work.
PICASSO: Matisse is an idiot.
You have to admit, Pablo, these new paintings you're doing,
they aren't easy to understand.
You're taking his side?
Of course not.
I just don't want you to be disappointed again.
You worked so hard on that...
and look what happened.
I can't work here.
FRANCOISE: It's no good.
I tried to be looser, like you told me to, and I...
I can't find the form in it.
It's just lying there, lifeless.
(Picasso stammers)
If your work doesn't give you trouble,
it won't be good.
(horns playing)
What are those horns?
(chuckles) They are calling us to a celebration.
It's Bastille Day.
(chuckles) Yeah. Let's go.
-Huh? Come on. Let's... -I've got to work...
Ah, let's have some fun.
Do it later. Yeah?
Pablo, I can't whip off two masterpieces a day like you.
(Picasso scoffs, chuckles)
Y-Y-Y-You think too much.
You know, you're, you're torturing yourself
with, uh, with critical thought.
You need an adventure.
(blowing loudly)
What are you doing?
PICASSO: Joining them.
(Picasso chuckles)
What am I supposed to do?
It's, uh,
it-it's just for men. Stay here.
I'll be back. Enjoy yourself!
You asked me to come with you!
Do you think it's finished?
Absolutely.
It is your best yet.
(chuckles)