When Jenny Hicks, director of Dale Frank - Nobody’s Sweetie - a documentary based on the life of the Australian artist - first met Dale, it was under unusual circumstances.

She was searching for a two-storey farmhouse for a film.

“I had a real estate agent in Singleton who told me there was an artist up the hill who had a two-storey house. I tracked him down online and went to check it out as a potential location,” Hicks says.

“And of course, it was nothing like a farmhouse.”

No, Dale Frank’s house is not your typical home. It has achieved near-mythic status, much like many aspects of Frank’s life. It's a big, solitary place out in the bush - where the reclusive artist lives and works.

That chance encounter marked the beginning of Hicks’ entry into Frank’s eccentric, fiercely private world - contributing to, or perhaps deconstructing, the mythology that surrounds him.

“A year or so later, when my film came out, he rang me and asked, Why didn’t you use my house?” Hicks says.

 “And I told him, Because it’s an artist’s house, not a farmer’s house. And he said, Well, why don’t we make a film together? So I went round for a cup of tea.”

She was greeted by Frank’s lush botanic garden, filled with palm trees, cacti, and all sorts of plants he had collected and cultivated. Inside, the house revealed quirky yet beautiful interiors and taxidermied animals scattered throughout.

“Dale is a mega creative force. Everything he touches, sees, or surrounds himself with is beautiful. I mean, you open a drawer in the kitchen to get a tea towel, and all the tea towels are beautiful. Everything in the house is beautiful,” she says.

“He does the finest of everything - not in a showy or silver-spoon way - but with care and vision. His interiors, his colours, the gardens, the paintings - he has this incredible eye. He’s an artist with a capital A.

A shot of Dale's house from the documentary. Source: Umbrella Entertainment

“And yet, the only thing he wears is a pair of grubby old shorts covered in paint - he looks like a hobo half the time. But everything he surrounds himself with is stunning.”

The documentary captures these lesser-seen aspects of Frank’s artistry - those personal, everyday expressions of creativity that never make it into galleries but stem from the same artistic impulse. And, of course, it showcases the work itself.

For those that don’t know, Dale Frank is one of Australia’s foremost contemporary artists. Since the 1970s, Frank has enjoyed a successful international career and in the documentary we watch as Dale evolves - his styles, themes, and ideas shifting with each new collection. He’s incredibly prolific, so there’s a lot to cover.

Dale in the middle of his process. Source: Umbrella Entertainment

But even though the film dwells on his art, its true focus is the man himself - which is what makes it so compelling.

Rather than feeling like a tour through a gallery, the documentary becomes an intimate portrait: Dale tells stories, pushes back, shares secrets. We learn about his struggles with autism, his existential fears, and his complicated relationship with the art world. It’s like spending an hour inside his wildly creative, chaotic mind.

And although he opens up more than expected, especially for someone so isolated, there’s a clear sense that he’s still holding something back - evident in a glance at the camera or the way he carefully phrases an answer.

“I think there was a lot of trust between us,” says Hicks. “But he’s still pretty guarded. When I’d ask direct questions, he’d pause and think very carefully before responding.”

The film ends with Frank presenting a new exhibition and walking through the gallery, interacting with guests. He doesn’t say a word - but the look in his eyes reveals the discomfort and pain of being forced to socialise. And in that moment, despite all his bravado, we see the vulnerability beneath - the fear.

Fear of not being liked. Of not being able to continue making art. Of dying. Of embarrassment. Of everything. But it’s this same fear, paired with his outward confidence and occasional obnoxiousness, that allows him to push through and keep creating. That, Hicks says, was the most inspiring part of working with him.

“A few times, when I was having a nervous breakdown while making the film - for one reason or another - he would get right behind me and say, ‘This is your film. You do it your way,’” Hicks recalls.

“He gave me these little pep talks, reminding me not to compromise just because of the money or other people’s expectations. And I hope some of that rubbed off on me. Even now, when I’m having a rough day, I think: What would Dale do?”

Dale Frank - Nobody’s Sweetie, directed by Jenny Hicks, is out 1 May and showing at Dendy Cinemas.