In the first minutes of Krabbé is looking for Matisse (NPO2), the presenter goes through a range of great feelings. Standing at the grave of the French painter – what can I say – of the “grand master”, Jeroen Krabbé expresses his admiration for his work, “beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful”, and then sinks into deep sadness because his father was so… was saddened by Matisse’s death, after which Krabbé burst into anger because the Fauvist was misunderstood in his early days – what can I say – he was “completely finished off”. So Krabbé has a mission: in this eight-part documentary he will tell the true story of Henri Matisse.
In his raspberry red Volvo, Krabbé chugs through gray northern France. He wears a jacket that matches his car. Although, the coat is red with a splash of orange. Terracotta? Is that jacket now swearing by his car or is that what it’s called? tone on tone? By the way, I say that Northern France is gray, but Krabbé finds the “drama of the region” incredible. By the way, it does work, the Krabbé method. Henri Matisse (1869-1954) had an uninteresting childhood in a factory town, he was not at all interested in art before the age of twenty. There isn’t much to see in this first episode either. But thanks to the dramatic drama that Krabbé brings to the story, it comes to life. He has been successfully presenting famous painters to a wide audience for nine years.
The Invisible Woman, who accompanied him in previous series, is also present again. Krabbé tells his story to a woman who is not in the picture and is not given a name – like a wife who passively endures the chatter about her husband’s hobby on holiday. Very occasionally she hints that she is also laughing good-naturedly at him. For example, when he enthusiastically does a circus trick with a mini volcano, the Invisible Woman says dryly: “I think it’s a great success.”
Myth of motherhood
Resignation is an important stage in marriage. A stage that the couple is in Tropical years (NPO3) has not yet reached. In this sitcom, Jelka van Houten and Henry van Loon play a young couple with a child who constantly argue about care responsibilities and attention. The second season started on Sunday with an argument about date night. To keep the relationship fresh, they have agreed on a fixed date night, which, however, the man prefers to spend with friends in front of the TV. Football. Tropical Years is a genre piece – the actors are good, but the script is weak. No surprising twists, no escalations. It’s a traditional sitcom about a traditional couple. The man is a big kid. The woman works, but is also responsible for the household and care.
Traditions are always less old and established than you think, this late Backlight (NPO2). In the episode ‘The Myth of Motherhood’, director Maren Merckx criticizes the heavy ideal that mothers are saddled with. They must surrender themselves completely to their child, and cease to exist themselves. Due to bonding, they must take care of it themselves, preferably 24 hours a day. Merckx gives the floor to experts who debunk this. Yes, the man has to do more, but that is not enough. According to them, it is better to divide the care tasks among a group of friends and family.
Important message, but it is repeated quite often and not expanded upon. We do get to see beautiful images of mothers and babies in bed during waking nights, filmed from above. In a mysterious light we also see a remarkably clean and smooth birth in an inflatable bath. The Invisible Woman also participates again. This time it is the Blessed Virgin Mary herself who provides the voice-over. Nice gimmick, a bit confusing, and it doesn’t add much. The tradition of the dominant voice-over will continue for a while at VPRO. It will pass again.
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Art, Parenthood, and the Great French Tragedy
Ah, the roller coaster of emotions in Krabbé is Looking for Matisse! Right from the get-go, Jeroen Krabbé takes us on a ride through the emotional landscape of a fine artist’s grave. Cue the tears, please! Standing there, he manages to give us a spectacular show of admiration, sadness, and sheer indignation. You can’t help but think, “Is this a documentary or an emotional TED Talk?” It’s a fine line, folks! The good news? He’s got a mission to unveil the true story of Henri Matisse. Who needs therapy when you can just drive a raspberry red Volvo through gray northern France talking about misunderstood artists? That’s some top-tier existential crisis right there!
Now, let’s talk about that jacket. It’s a red-orange terracotta mix or as Krabbé might call it, tone on tone. One can’t help but wonder—does it match his mood or his car? Somebody put him in front of a color wheel! As he journeyed through the somber Northern French landscape, he describes it as possessing “the drama of the region.” Drama? Honey, it’s gray! Even the weather looks like it requires a good therapist!
In the cozy realm of fine arts, Krabbé has made a name for himself as a painter whisperer, and it seems he’s got the knack to make even the driest of histories blossom—who knew Matisse had a “meh” childhood in a factory town? Talk about being ungrateful! But thanks to Krabbé’s dramatics, things perk up a bit, proving that sometimes the delivery matters more than the content. It’s like serving a dry biscuit but with the presentation of a three-course Michelin meal!
But wait! Who’s that? Ah yes, the Invisible Woman returns. No, not a superhero, but Krabbé’s unnamed sidekick who presumably provides some much-needed ‘eye roll’ moments in response to his antics. A real-life version of the “Did I marry this?” look, she’s perfect for anyone who’s ever had to endure their partner rambling on about their hobbies during dinner. At one point, he thrills her with a circus trick involving a mini volcano. What can I say—dinner theater has just gone to a new level!
Myth of Motherhood
Then we step into the sitcom world with Tropical Years. Oh, the trials and tribulations of parenting! Jelka van Houten and Henry van Loon are a young couple stuck in an all-too-familiar rut: the unending bickering over who does what in parenthood. Not exactly thrilling, is it? The idea of a ‘date night’—a noble cause, really!—gets thwarted as our dear hubby opts for football over romance. Really, mate? The only ‘goal’ you’re going to score tonight is post-game snacks!
While the cast is solid, the script lacks the spice needed to keep our interest. No surprises, no escalations—just your run-of-the-mill sitcom fare where the man is depicted as the proverbial big kid. Ah yes, the age-old stereotype: woman works, cleans, parents; man sits in front of the TV. Bravo! Who knew the sitcom genre could feel so… repetitive?
And now onto Backlight, tackling some heavy stuff—The Myth of Motherhood. Kudos to director Maren Merckx for shining a light on the unrealistic expectations placed on mothers. The idea that making every second about the child is not only impractical but burdensome is, you know, about time we talked about it! But the fact is, it’s thrown in our face rather repetitively, like that aunt at Christmas who just won’t let go of the past!
The visuals are stunning; scenes of mothers and babies aimlessly floating about in dreamy cinematography. But then we get to the infamous voice-over—the voice of the Blessed Virgin Mary, no less. Talk about pulling at heartstrings! It’s a unique touch, but honestly, it’s slightly confusing—like trying to follow a plot twist in a soap opera. Not to mention, the tone dabbles between profound and puzzling, which makes you yearn for a clearer path.
In sum, whether it’s the passionate canvases of Matisse or the marital squabbles in Tropical Years, there’s plenty to dig into from these shows. Poignant and hilariously surreal, they tug at everything from your art appreciation to your parenting sanity while keeping you chuckling through the darkest of existential crises. So pour yourself a drink, allow Krabbé and friends to entertain you, and remember: art and family drama—they’re just two sides of the same chaotic coin!
In the opening moments of Krabbé is looking for Matisse on NPO2, Jeroen Krabbé finds himself oscillating through a spectrum of profound emotions. At the grave of the illustrious French painter, the so-called “grand master,” Krabbé eloquently articulates his deep-seated admiration for Matisse’s artistry, describing it as “beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful.” However, this reverence quickly shifts to deep melancholy as he reflects on how his father mourned Matisse’s death, a sentiment that evokes a shared grief across generations. This sorrow then ignites a fiery anger within Krabbé, who passionately declares that the Fauvist artist was grossly misunderstood during his formative years—indeed, he was “completely finished off.” Thus, armed with a personal mission, Krabbé embarks on an eight-part documentary journey to unveil the authentic narrative of Henri Matisse’s life.
Driving his raspberry-red Volvo through the somber landscapes of northern France, Krabbé’s jacket—strikingly matching his car’s hue—adds a splash of vibrancy to the gray surroundings. The coat, embodying a blend of red with hints of orange, prompts musings on its exact color—perhaps terracotta or even a bold “tone on tone”? While I might describe northern France as enveloped in grayness, Krabbé perceives a unique “drama of the region,” contrasting with my perspective. His distinctive approach—the “Krabbé method”—proves effective; despite Henri Matisse’s rather uneventful childhood in a factory town and his late arrival to the world of art at the age of twenty, Krabbé breathes life into the story through his captivating narrative style. For the past nine years, he has impressively engaged a wide audience with the fascinating lives of renowned painters.
Once again, the enigmatic figure known as the Invisible Woman accompanies him in this series. Krabbé narrates his insights to an unnamed woman who remains out of sight, reminiscent of a patient spouse enduring her partner’s enthusiastic discussions about his artistic pursuits. Though seldom seen, she occasionally displays her amusement, evident when Krabbé performs an enthusiastic circus trick involving a mini volcano, prompting her dry-witted commentary: “I think it’s a great success.”
Myth of motherhood
Resignation, often a complex stage in marriage, is notably absent in the lives of the characters in Tropical years on NPO3. The sitcom stars Jelka van Houten and Henry van Loon as a young couple with a child, whose constant disputes about care responsibilities and the need for undivided attention drive the narrative. The second season kicked off on Sunday with a disagreement centered around their scheduled date night—an effort intended to keep their relationship vibrant. Ironically, the man prefers to forgo their romantic evening to watch football with friends on TV. While the performers showcase notable talent, the script falters, lacking surprising twists or escalation, making it a clichéd portrayal of a traditional couple dynamics—where the husband embodies the role of a perpetual child, and the wife balances her professional commitments with domestic and caregiving duties.
The late episode of Backlight on NPO2 challenges the misperceptions present within traditional motherhood in an eye-opening critique, under the title ‘The Myth of Motherhood.’ Directed by Maren Merckx, it boldly addresses the unrealistic ideal that mothers are often burdened with—one that demands total self-sacrifice and unyielding devotion to their children, sometimes at the expense of their own identities. Merckx brings in experts who dismantle these notions, emphasizing the need for better distribution of parental responsibilities among family and friends, suggesting that the solution requires not just the father’s involvement, but a broader communal effort.
This commendable message, however, suffers from overemphasis, leaving little room for in-depth exploration. Visually stunning sequences capture the delicate bond between mothers and their infants during the quiet intimacy of sleepless nights, presenting a fresh perspective from above. Additionally, a surreal and pristine representation of childbirth unfolds in an inflatable bath, adding to the episode’s visual appeal. The Invisible Woman makes another appearance, this time embodying the Blessed Virgin Mary, offering a voice-over that is intriguing but somewhat perplexing, leading to questions about its relevance. As the tradition of dominant voice-overs continues within VPRO programming, it remains a device that may evolve as viewer preferences shift in the future.
Gender stereotypes
Talents that are both comedic and relatable, the writing often leans into tried-and-true sitcom tropes, which can lead to a sense of predictability. The repetition of classic gender roles—where the woman manages the household while the man seems to be a carefree, albeit clueless, child—makes the series feel somewhat stale. Sure, it shines a light on the struggles of modern parenthood, but is there really anything new here?
This leads us to the thought-provoking yet occasionally heavy-hitting documentary, Backlight. Directed by Maren Merckx, it tackles the oft-overlooked complexities of motherhood and the unrealistic expectations society places on moms. The central theme challenges the notion that a mother’s life should revolve solely around her children—a daunting and exhausting task that can lead to feelings of isolation and resentment. The repetition of this powerful message, while important, sometimes risks becoming overwhelming, much like a well-meaning friend who keeps bringing up the same dilemma at every social gathering.
Visually, Backlight offers hauntingly beautiful scenes of mothers and their babies, showcasing the tender moments that exist amid the chaos of parenting. However, the documentary makes an unusual narrative choice by weaving in voice-overs from the iconically enigmatic figure of the Blessed Virgin Mary. While this artistic move is undeniably intriguing, it quickly becomes muddled, leaving viewers—like a lost child in a grocery store—yearning for clearer guidance.
the spectrum of programming from Krabbé is Looking for Matisse to Tropical Years and Backlight illustrates an engaging examination of artistry and family life. Each piece offers its own unique flair, yet they each wrestle with age-old emotions and identities, forcing audiences to reflect on their own experiences—whether navigating grief, the incessant challenge of parental duties, or the often chaotic dance of love, art, and personal discovery. So grab a glass of wine, sit back, and be prepared to laugh, cry, and ponder as these narratives unfold.
