It's easy to see the attraction of a film about Frida Kahlo. The Mexican painter was spirited, rebellious, proudly true to her idiosyncratic talents, and, despite being crippled in a bus accident, she led an unusually eventful life. Just the ingredients for a romantic inspirational drama! Or for a thin string of colourful clichés. That's far too harsh an assessment of Hayek's well meaning hymn to the determination and artistic originality of a national heroine, but it does point up the weaknesses of the film. Notwithstanding an eagerness to display her bust at regular intervals, the actress/producer makes for an efficient lead, and the same is true of Molina's Diego Rivera. Kahlo's relationship with the womanising muralist is the movie's backbone, as opposed to the link between experience and art, which is stated, not dramatised. The script rushes events, races past characters, deploys welcome animation and special effects for dreams, trips abroad and paintings come to life. It also fields irritatingly cute cameos. Those unfamiliar with Kahlo's life and work will find it lively and informative, but depth of character and insights into the creative process aren't part of the hagiographic equation.