Moss & Freud (dir. James Lucas)

by Jack Martin | May 28, 2026

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 100 mins

UK Distributor: Vertigo Releasing

UK Release Date: 29 May 2026

WHO’S IN MOSS & FREUD?

Ellie Bamber, Derek Jacobi, Jasmine Blackborow, Tim Downie, Will Tudor

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

James Lucas (director, writer), Maile Daugherty and Matthew Metcalfe (producers), Karl Sölve Steven (composer), Maria Ines Manchego (cinematographer), Nick Carew (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

In 2002, supermodel Kate Moss (Bamber) has her portrait done by artist Lucian Freud (Jacobi)…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON MOSS & FREUD?

I feel that some of the more successful biopics focus not on a person’s life or career from start to finish, but mostly on a singular event that may not be as momentous or even as infamous, yet says more about them than most others could. For instance, The King’s Speech focuses exclusively on the early years of King George VI along with his speech therapy sessions to help overcome his stammer; a more traditional biopic would have shown everything from his difficult childhood to nearly every major episode of his reign, like it’s an extended prequel to The Crown.

What’s initially interesting about Moss & Freud, from writer-director James Lucas, is that it focuses on a seemingly miniscule period in the lives of not just supermodel Kate Moss but also German-born figurative painter Lucian Freud, so much so that their pairing for Freud’s 2002 portrait of Moss – simply titled Naked Portrait 2022 – barely even makes up one or two sentences on either’s Wikipedia page. Lucas attempts to stretch what is by comparison a mere footnote in their long and illustrious careers into a feature-length drama where both figures are put underneath the microscope, admirably focusing on their individual characters more than simply going through their achievement bullet point by bullet point. Sometimes it works, sometimes not as much, but Moss & Freud deserves points for at least trying to be more than just a standard biopic (you paying attention, Michael?)

We begin in the early 2000s, with Moss (Ellie Bamber) carelessly driving along a country road, numerous empty champagne bottles on the floor of her roofless car, and not a care in the world even as police drive past. At this point, her career is in full blossom, as is her heavily documented hard-partying lifestyle, so she can just about get away with such recklessness. As we quickly learn, she’s on her way to the National Gallery during these early hours of the morning, where Freud (Derek Jacobi) propositions her with an offer to create her portrait, which she would need to commit to for at least three days a week for the foreseeable future until the painting is finally completed. Eventually, Moss begins modelling – nude, by her own choice – for Freud’s long and meticulously scheduled sessions, and over time the two grow a close bond which soon encroaches on their personal and professional lives.

Not quite a two-hander, but not exactly a vast ensemble piece either (beyond Bamber and Jacobi, there are only a handful of other speaking roles), Moss & Freud is delicately contained in both its storytelling and filmmaking. Lucas, an Oscar winner thanks to his screenplay for the 2013 short film The Phone Call, treads a careful balance between intimate character study and presumptuous fact-based fiction, showing how the trust between both of them gradually grows into a place of respect for one another’s craft, enough to inspire at least one of them (according to this movie, anyway) to clean up their act. It is something of a love story that Lucas has crafted here, but not in the traditional sense – while it hints at a distinctly possible attraction, it thankfully steers far away from that potential mess – and more for the different approaches to art that both have, with Moss’s confidence in multifacetedly exposing herself quickly earning his fascination, while Freud’s unconventional vision of the world around him gaining her admiration.

However, the film doesn’t completely capture their semi-fictionalised bond in quite as gripping a manner as it so assumes. Lucas’s script is sometimes about as thin as the waistline of the real Kate Moss, with a fair number of the scenes between her and Freud dedicated to some airy dialogue back-and-forths that border on pretention, complete with some overly poetic cinematography that could often be mistaken for one of the supermodel’s artsier campaigns. Not much is really explored about what exactly draws them both together, other than their mutual curiosity in one another, nor are other potential themes such as Freud neglecting his own adult children in favour of viewing his model as a surrogate daughter (right in front of his actual daughter as well, to rub salt in that wound), some of which are resolved in a very Hollywood manner. Things like that can make Moss & Freud a bit too high-brow for its own good, sacrificing some of that crucial humanity in favour of stylishly rich yet substantially lacking imagery.

It’s a good thing that both Bamber and Jacobi are a compelling enough on-screen duo for their characters’ relationship to feel mighty despite the narrative weaknesses. Jacobi’s German accent, specifically his rhotacism as “r”s become “w”s, can occasionally slip into unintentional Elmer Fudd territory, but the veteran actor utilises his natural gravitas well for a fine late-career performance. Bamber, though, is the greater revelation as she speeds beyond her rather close resemblance to Kate Moss (the model actually has an executive producer credit, so she clearly had a hand in choosing her on-screen self) and actually nails most of her mannerisms, from her wavy Croydon accent to her fierce and almost unearthly physical poise. When their scenes together aren’t bogged down in arthouse-adjacent dialogue, the actors share a rather endearing chemistry that gives the film a sincere sense of heart.

The film won’t be gliding to the top of anyone’s list of favourite biopics anytime soon, but Moss & Freud has a decent amount going for it to be an admirable, if far from perfect, step away from the status quo. Again, the makers of Michael should really be taking notes on this.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Moss & Freud is an intriguingly intimate account of the unlikely collaboration between Kate Moss and Lucian Freud, both played strongly by Ellie Bamber and Derek Jacobi who give the film its soul amidst some painfully artsy storytelling and filmmaking.