Art on film: is romance dead?

Beyond blockbuster biopics like Frida, The Girl with the Pearl Earring and Loving Vincent there are a plethora of films which are not just about art and artists but are – sometimes tangentially – set in the contemporary art world. It’s a niche genre, but it provides a window into how the art world is perceived, inside and outside.

This time, we’ll be looking specifically at how art is represented in the genre of rom-com through three films from 2000 to now: Apartment 12 (2000), (Untitled) (2009) and Upgraded (2024). Can these films teach us a thing or two about love, or art? Can rom-coms teach us anything?

Apartment 12 (2000) has all the trappings of a classic rom-com. Young artist Alex (played by Mark Ruffalo) is dumped by his hot-shot curator girlfriend and as a result, moves into a run-down apartment in the city. His new neighbour, Lori, turns out to be gorgeous and funny, and, shock horror, they start dating. The only catch? She’s in the Air Force, straightforward and ‘uncultured’ with little appreciation for his sensitive, artistic ways – “She doesn’t know who Jackson Pollock is!” he laments to his friend Ray. After a dramatic breakup, Alex finally finds the inspiration to make art again (by throwing his dinner at a canvas – who said creativity was dead?). His new exhibition is so well received that – plot twist – his ex wants him back, but he’s still heartbroken over Lori. Lori, who never really liked Alex’s abstract stuff, finds a book of sketches Alex made of her and, so enamoured with his artistic genius, takes him back. The film pushes the narrative that you just need a little heartbreak for inspiration, a little ego massage goes a long way and poking fun at the pretentiousness of artists. As Alex’s journey shows, success in your career will inevitably lead to success in your love life, too. That’s what they teach at art school, right…?

Next up is (Untitled), (2009), a satirical take on power relations and the absurdity of conceptual art. The late noughties really felt like the pinnacle of the ‘but is it art?’ discourse in popular culture, as the market went from strength to strength pre-financial crash, and increasingly ludicrous prices were achieved for increasingly ludicrous work (we’re looking at you, Hirst). This film really rides on this idea that ‘making it’ in contemporary art is as easy as pickling an apex predator, sleeping with the right people and showing up to openings. The plot follows two insufferable artist  brothers as they chase their alluring gallerist (with squeaky latex outfits, faux-reading glasses and a pan-European accent, to boot), sabotaging their careers in the process. Director Jonathan Parker portrays the art world as a passionate, sexed-up place where power, seduction and success are all currencies to be bought and sold. While the gallerist insists that “my collectors buy art because they fall in love with it,” the collector himself admits “art does not look as good when it goes down in value.” We’re often told that both art and romance should be dictated by love and passion, but (Untitled) shows that, when money is involved, everything becomes a lot more complicated.

Finally, Upgraded (2024) – the most mushy and capital R Romantic of the three films – gives us a prudish insight into life inside a major international auction house. Plucky young intern Ana gets picked by her deranged boss (played brilliantly by Marisa Tomei) to fly to London to help on a big project. Ana gets upgraded on the flight and happens to be sitting next to England’s most eligible bachelor, William who, of course, falls for her immediately. What follows is a classic rags-to-riches romance as the pair galavant around London, make out in front of Tate Modern (we’ve all been there, let’s be honest), with Ana ultimately using Will’s privilege and family influence in the art world to get ahead at work. She returns to New York with a glowing recommendation from her boss and manages to open her own, enormous gallery within six months – her very own Lean In, girlboss fairytale! Upgraded is so corporate, bland and mushy in its depiction of the art world, so catastrophically devoid of chemistry and sex appeal that it feels more Grant Wood than the spiritually-charged Hilma af Klimt they continually reference throughout the film.

If these three films tell us anything, it’s that the liaison between romance and art is waning, hardening and sanitising as the years go on, and our hearts along with it.