This is another instance of glorifying a problematic character because of his "great art" in many of the accounts presented; e.g. "he hit everyone he didn't like, but it was nothing like bad temper, it was something sublime", or "here he is, a rake, having had two children by two different women and a free agent again - a terrific picture, poisonous and shocking, but in a good way". Not all commenters rush to such exonerating moral assessments - some are objective and precise in their assessments (like Liz Rideal and Andrea Tarsia).

Lucian Freud was without a doubt a great artist, and it should have been left at that: his cruel self-observation, be it narcissistic without an ambition of a deeper psychological investigation of his underlying tragedy - as far as I understand, he loathed the interpretation of his work, let alone applying self-analysis. He must have found himself a loathsome character for whatever reason - there's brief insight the film throws regarding his childhood in 30s Germany, and a subsequent opposition by Freud to being pinned as any sort of a "Germanic painter".

He is constantly being extolled as "charismatic", "incredibly intense" and "transformative", and while the first two are subjective, I failed to understand what the transformation was about - there wasn't a catharsis by the first two-thirds of the film where I lost interest. I wasn't surprised to hear he was friends with Balthus and Picasso.