Showing posts with label Terence Davies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Terence Davies. Show all posts

Sunday, January 1, 2023

2022 Top Ten List #6 Benediction
























Writer/director Terence Davies








Davies on the set with Kate Phillips and Jack Lowden


Siegfried Sassoon


Sassoon with close friend Robert Hanmer

shooting on the set


















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BENEDICTION                    A-                                                                                               Great Britain  USA  (137 mi)  2021  ‘Scope  d: Terence Davies

Alone he staggered on until he found                                                                                         Dawn’s ghost that filtered down a shafted stair                                                                             To the dazed, muttering creatures underground                                                                               Who hear the boom of shells in muffled sound.                                                                             At last, with sweat and horror in his hair,                                                                                    He climbed through darkness to the twilight air,                                                                  Unloading hell behind him step by step.

—excerpt from The Rear-Guard, by Siegfried Sassoon, written on the Hindenburg Line, April 1917, siegfried sassoon - The War Poems - Project Gutenberg

This has a towering, epic feel about it, something of a gay anthem, coming in the latter stages of the director’s career when history, vintage photographs, poetry, cinema, and Catholicism, which is painfully prominent, all merge together, incorporating his own queer history, telling the story of English poet, writer, and soldier Siegfried Sassoon (Jack Lowden), decorated for bravery on the Western Front, officer with the Royal Welch Fusiliers and winner of the Military Cross, becoming one of the most influential and historically important poets of the First World War.  Angry at the futility of war, having lost his younger brother at Gallipoli, his compassionate anti-war poems differed from the jingoism and sentimentality of other war poets, more political and more edgy, instead writing about the horror and brutality of trench warfare and the tragic waste of human life, like ordering young men to charge against machine guns that literally mow them down, always remaining connected to those frontline soldiers while blisteringly satirizing the generals, politicians, and clergymen for their incompetence and blind support of the war.  Public reaction was fierce, some complaining the poet displayed little patriotism, while others found his shockingly realistic depiction of war to be too extreme, accentuating the graphic detail, but he eloquently captured the feeling of trench warfare, where the accumulated war deaths in WWI were simply staggering, First World War: fatalities per country 1914-1918 - Statista, with soldiers dying by the millions, shown in a lyrical stream-of-consciousness montage of black and white photographs that are simply striking, set to the starkly unusual choice of music of (Ghost) Riders In The Sky - Vaughn Monroe (a #1 record) - YouTube (3:01), with WWI metaphorically supplanting the Wild West, quoting Wilfred Owen’s opening line “What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?” from Anthem for Doomed Youth, Anthem for Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation, or underlined by an impassioned reading of Sassoon’s poetry that reflects the weariness of British soldiers in a war that never seems to end.  He wrote a letter to his commanding officer after throwing his Military Cross medal into the river, declining to return to duty because he believed the war was being deliberately prolonged by those who had the power to end it, A Soldier’s Declaration, Sassoon's Protest Statement, which was published in newspapers and read aloud in the House of Commons, causing an extreme degree of embarrassment for the British military and very nearly got him court-martialed, BENEDICTION (2022) movie clip: "I simply cannot remain silent..." YouTube (1:27), instead, after intervention from important figures, including British poet and historical novelist Robert Graves, his commanding officer in the Fusiliers, he was sent to the Craiglockhart War Hospital in Scotland for recuperation and treated for shell shock, a condition he did not have.  It was there he met his treating psychiatrist, Dr. W. H. R. Rivers (Ben Daniels), the first in Britain to use “talking therapy,” discovering they both share a “love that dare not speak its name,” an Oscar Wilde reference to homosexuality, one of the first gay men he became close to, while also meeting fellow poet Wilfred Owen (Matthew Tennyson), who was the editor of The Hydra, a literary journal produced by the patients.  Immediately striking up a friendship, they each shared a profound respect for each other’s enormous talent, each believing the other was the superior poet, providing a brief solace in their lives, developing a homoerotic friendship that was never consummated, seen dancing the tango together, cheek-to-cheek, but they kept in contact through correspondence, even as Owen was quickly sent back to the front lines, dying just a week before armistice was declared at the age of 25, with the war taking perhaps the only man he ever really loved.  Owen’s work inspired Benjamin Britten to write his War Requiem, also Derek Jarman’s 1989 film by the same name, while his loss, added to Sassoon’s younger brother, and the collective loss of the millions of war dead affected him greatly, haunted by the cries of “the muffled dead,” losing so much at such an early age, never really coming to terms with the psychological damage of unfathomable trauma, all but confirming his worst fears. 

Davies lyrically examined his own childhood in Distant Voices, Still Lives (1988) and The Long Day Closes (1992), created a passionate ode to his hometown, Of Time and the City (2008), explored the literary passages of Edith Wharton in THE HOUSE OF MIRTH (2000), Terence Rattigan in The Deep Blue Sea (2012), Lewis Grassic Gibbon in 2016 Top Ten List #7 Sunset Song, and American poet Emily Dickinson in A Quiet Passion (2017), and while this fails to meet the poetic depth of his earlier films, the dramatization still feels like an elegiac transformation onto the screen, creating haunting moments that simply linger in the air, including beautifully constructed sequences shot by Nicola Daley, working with the director for the first time, that eloquently express Davies as a superb conceptual artist.  Bringing a theatrical quality to the production, with Sassoon returning home after the war, Christmas is laced with an anguished memory of all that has just transpired, leaving one exhausted and emotionally spent, Benediction Movie Clip - Reliving the Past (2022) | Movieclips Coming Soon YouTube (1:19), while also searching for the sublime in a portrait of cherry blossoms set to exquisitely delicate music, Butterworth: A Shropshire Lad - Loveliest of trees - YouTube (3:27).  Brilliantly written by Davies, in tune with the sensitivity of each character, the wit and elocution of the dialogue is among the director’s best, each word precisely chosen, initially established through the tender exchanges between doctor and patient, both proper English gentlemen, developing an immediate rapport through their erudite language, but growing more intellectually testy as he enters the upper echelons of British society after the war, developing an Oscar Wilde flair for the dramatic in a series of romantic affairs and encounters with rich socialites, reciting one of his own poems, Benediction: Blaze Of Lights (HD CLIP) Jack Lowden, Tom Blyth WWI Movie YouTube (1:41), while indulging in parties and extravaganzas in the Gatsby-like era of the Bright Young Things of the 1920s - Historic UK where gay and lesbian relationships were commonly accepted.  In this richly decadent atmosphere he meets Ivor Novello (Jeremy Irvine), a matinee idol, composer of witty stage music, and openly gay silent screen star in Hitchock’s atmospheric murder mystery drenched in fog, The Lodger (1927), who sings his own deliciously witty novelty song, And Her Mother Came Too (Harold Lloyd) - YouTube (1:53), before scandalously ditching his boyfriend and taking the arm of Sassoon to commence yet another romantic fling.  This same song was sung by Jeremy Northam when playing Novello in Robert Altman's Gosford Park (2001), aptly reflecting the times in which it was written, when risqué tongue-in-cheek comedy was all the rage.  The screen is a bouquet of gay narcissists flaunting their flamboyant effeminance, literally snarling at one another with their claws out, including actor and theater director Glen Byam Shaw (Tom Blyth), coupled with Novello before Sassoon came onto the scene, and Stephen Tennant (Calam Lynch), an impetuous and beguiling prize with a flair for the rich and glamorous, something of a social climber habitually looking at himself in the mirror while continually exhibiting an insouciant flair.  All handsome and divinely dressed, at times this resembles a chic costume drama where the winner takes the prize, like when they meet Hester Gatty (Kate Phillips), the well-connected and wealthy daughter of a Chief Justice who dabbled in painting and writing poetry, quickly grabbing Sassoon when the occasion suits her, BENEDICTION - Frist Clip For Terence Davies’ Siegfried Sassoon Biopic Starring Jack Lowden #TIFF2021 YouTube (2:16).  Described by Sassoon’s mother as the “pretty boys,” they all interchange with one another in relationships at some point in time, trying one another out like some kind of social experiment, where the freedom they are looking for resembles the free love movement from the 60’s, while hovering over them is art critic Robbie Ross (Simon Russell Beale), an elder gay statesman who bravely defended Oscar Wilde (who was imprisoned for his sexuality) from scurrilous attacks and helped protect his literary legacy.  Left out of the film is the affair Sassoon had with Prince Philipp of Hesse, a German aristocrat who later joined the Nazi Party, serving as Hitler’s art collector.  The fleetingness of these Bohème relationships mirror the cattiness of the characters and the ferocity of the sharp barbs intended to stab their prey, exhibiting a stifling self-centerdness of people utterly caught up in themselves, where you wonder why anyone would stick around, Benediction: The Fight (HD CLIP) Jack Lowden, Tom Blyth WWI Movie YouTube (2:19), but it reflects the underlying anxiety of being gay during a time when it was outlawed, something that has also plagued the director throughout his life, scurrying to the hallowed realms of the Catholic Church in hopes of salvation, only to end up bitterly disappointed. 

Rather than telling Sassoon’s story in a biographical sense, Davies approaches his life subjectively, accentuating the accompanying feelings expressed through his poems, where his films are often memory plays, using associative editing and an evocative use of music, offering reflections of looking back at one’s life with a sense of regret.  The length of the film feels rightly deserved in this film, as poetry needs space to breathe, where the silences and pauses need to be felt.  By scouring Sassoon’s diaries, the actor Jack Lowden quickly realized he was playing a conglomeration of Sassoon mixed with the director’s own personal feelings, merging into a starkly authoritative depiction of growing up gay in the moral straightjacket of the British empire (homosexuality was outlawed until 1967, with a new law passed just weeks after Sassoon’s death), leading to a tortuously repressed existence.  This is the director’s most openly gay film, though he maintains the self-loathing factor associated with his own homosexuality ('Being gay has ruined my life' – The Irish Times), while the reverence Sassoon feels for the community of brothers lost in the war has a nearly homoerotic connotation, as they represent the hopes and dreams of a future generation that never see the light of day, expressing so much love and admiration for them, as they carried with them his own aspirations for a better world and a better life.  When they died, something within him died as well.  While there is frivolity in youth, with economic privilege granting them sexual freedoms, Sassoon’s life evolves into unusual sadness, hiding behind an angry veneer of an almost sneering honesty, though his mother (Geraldine James) reminds him “it’s more humane to be kind than honest.”  Filled with a gravity of emotions that suggests an endlessly combustible inner turmoil, Sassoon is driven back into the closet where he leads an overly repressed shadow life, searching for redemption through societal respectability and the protected sanctity of marriage, and ultimately religion, never really enunciating his disappointment, instead hoping for the sought-after salvation.  Thinking this may come in the form of Hester Gatty, at age 47 Sassoon marries her, twenty years younger than him, hoping to have a child together, then somewhat later he converts to Catholicism, where the great promise of a more stabilized life turns into an unmitigated disaster.  One of the most startling images is an age transformation in a held shot, as Jack Lowden morphs into a much older Peter Capaldi, thoroughly embittered and dejected at the abysmal state of his life, supremely angry at the world and disgusted with himself, living in a sterile relationship with an unhappily discouraged partner, where the alluring Kate Phillips transforms into a frumpy Gemma Jones, losing all sense of her former sensuality, looking positively dour, neither one having anything to say to each other, with Gatty eventually departing for Scotland, driven to unending despair by a relentless onslaught of verbal abuse from an uncaring husband.  Yet for abject cruelty, it would be hard to top a scene with the now older Stephen Tennant (Anton Lesser), as it appears there are simply no feelings left, Benediction (2022) Clip | Jack Lowden, Peter Capaldi YouTube (1:30).  Their grown-up son George (Richard Goulding) looks nothing like either one of them, blending into the landscape with a thoroughly average appearance, where nothing about him stands out, apparently playing referee between his two parents, acting as a go-between until they separate, trying to get his father to utter anything, as he goes into catatonic states of aloof despondency, sitting for hours without saying a word.  When he finally gets his father to go to the theater, thinking this would have a positive effect on his outlook, they go to the overly cheery Anthony Newley British comedy Stop the World – I Want to Get Off, a show that ends with the song What Kind of Fool Am I?, yet what Davies chooses to show is the cheesy sentiment of Typically English (Live) - YouTube (3:42), which Sassoon must have found dreadful.  The film opens with Sassoon’s A Soldier’s Declaration and closes with Wilfred Owen’s poem Disabled, Disabled by Wilfred Owen | Poetry Foundation, which is read while a young Sassoon sits on a bench and witnesses a legless war veteran in a wheelchair being taken outside a medical facility and simply forgotten, leaving him drowning in an abject state of horror, where the title takes on an elegiac significance, merging into a final wordless sequence that is as bleak as it is enthralling, endlessly holding onto a face, where you may recall a similar heart-wrenching finale, Visions of Gideon- Sufjan Stevens (Call Me By Your Name Soundtrack) High Quality YouTube (4:42), though this shakes the very core of one’s being, set to a Vaughan Williams theme, Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis - YouTube (16:35), where Sassoon has simply lost all faith in the world, leaving him heartbroken and dismally sad, seemingly frozen in time, transformed into an agonizing state of morose despair. 

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

A Quiet Passion


 



Emily Dickinson at Mt. Holyoke College, 1846







A QUIET PASSION              B                    
Great Britain  Belgium  (125 mi)  2017  ‘Scope  d:  Terence Davies      Official site [Japan]

Poems are my solace for the eternity which surrounds us all.
—Emily Dickinson (Cynthia Nixon)

No one can deny this director’s reverence for American poet Emily Dickinson, as he’s spoken out in praise of her for at least a decade or more, calling her America’s greatest poet, describing her as a “genius,” though the same could probably be said for her contemporary Walt Whitman, so there’s no surprise that the film elevates the material into sacred realms, where it comes across as an extended dedication and eulogy of her life.  Solemn to the core, the film is a vivid memorialization of her life, showing in the opening scene how women were bullied and manipulated, forced to endure their place in life while constantly criticized for not being happy about it.  Dickinson is that rare individual who takes her soul seriously, “My soul is my own,” she insists, yet refuses to be pushed one way or another, by pastors, college matrons, or even her father, who seem to think they know what’s best for her.  Throughout her life, she questions whether they do, taking individual stock in herself, valuing her own intelligence and opinion, even if it stands contrary to the prevailing view.   What perhaps stands out in this film version is just how artificially self-conscious and unlike real life it seems, as it has a theatrical dimension throughout that may feel overly scripted, yet it’s simply attempting to recreate a more formal 19th century American English when people spoke differently, as they were still trying to emulate the British, where conversations sound like recitations, with the use of perfect diction and proper pitch in every scrutinized line.  While this doesn’t appear to be an accident, but instead a chosen aesthetic, reminiscent of Sally Potter’s film YES (2004) that was written in iambic pentameter.  While it’s not that artistically stylized, resorting to the language of Shakespeare, it does suggest an uncompromising aspect to her nature, where Emily defiantly chooses her own path, even if that means disagreements with people of authority.  In the opening scene, a younger Emily (Emma Bell) receives a stern dressing down from one of the overly pious headmistresses at the Mount Holyoke Female Seminary, where she is labelled a “no-hoper,” as she refuses to whole-heartedly embrace divine Providence and instead chooses an alternative path, knowing full well that women could not aspire to happiness, but were instead forced to submit to the laws of men, believing it’s far more important to lead a good life under the watchful eyes of God.  This evangelical drive for religious conformity, which amounts to little more than female servitude, causes her great distress, eventually driving her out of school, returning to a life at home where she is completely embraced by her family, where with her father’s permission, she is allowed time alone in the early morning hours to write.  Mostly taking place out of sight from everyone else, her poems offer a window into her soul, where no one in her lifetime could imagine the extent of her productivity, as she was a prolific writer, totaling nearly 1800 poems, yet only a handful were printed during her lifetime, as women were not recognized as having the same artistic stature as men, a view that didn’t change until the latter half of the 20th century.  Dickinson’s first volume of poetry was published four years after her death, but in an altered form, as publishers attempted to simplify what they believed to be a more correct language.  It wasn’t until 1955 that a complete and unabridged anthology of her work was published. 

Raised in a Puritan era in the New England town of Amherst, Massachusetts (though shot near Antwerp, Belgium), Emily stayed with her family her entire life, feeling love and satisfaction in the comfort of family and home, seldom leaving home, having few friends, receiving only occasional guests, where she led a reclusive and contemplative life.  In one extraordinary interior shot, as the camera glides across the room, the countenance of Emily’s character morphs into another actress, Cynthia Nixon, which is done so well the audience feels like bursting into applause, viewed with a fierce intelligence and a strong determination, with the film balancing her spoken thoughts with an interior voice-over that reads bits and pieces of her poems out loud.  Again, there is a blatant artificiality with this aesthetic choice that doesn’t make it easy on the viewers, allowing the changing moods to shift and feel discombobulated, growing overly dramatic to the point of melodrama, a device that keeps viewers off-kilter, where the director’s uncompromising vision is a difficult film to watch.  Yet early on one is struck by her brilliance, as she is used to being the smartest person in the room, but not always happy about it, knowing that marriage would suffocate her creativity, instead guarding her fierce independence, yet feeling great disappointment in her self-imposed isolation, as it prevents her from having a larger social impact.  Her tender yet austere father is played by a nearly unrecognizable Keith Carradine, not seen by this viewer since the Alan Rudolph films, CHOOSE ME (1984 ), TROUBLE IN MIND (1985), and THE MODERNS (1988), and prior to that Robert Altman’s Nashville (1975), given heightened presence by being a one-time Congressman, where he is viewed throughout as a man of intellect and respect.  Her older brother Austin (Duncan Duff) joins his father’s law firm while living next door with his wife Susan, Johdi May, still the youngest recipient of the Best Actress Award at Cannes for the film A WORLD APART (1988), though Jennifer Ehle as her younger sister Lavinia (Vinnie) is one of the film’s revelations, as she is her sister’s equal in every respect, with no one any closer to Emily or knowing her any better.  She is like Emily’s alter-ego, balancing her mood swings while providing the social grace and dignity that Emily often eschews.  Their love of the Brontë sisters is unsurpassed in a time when their writing was poorly regarded, while Emily is openly dismissive of Longfellow’s epic poem The Song of Hiawatha, calling it “gruel.”  Her outspokenness in challenging conventional thinking is legendary in this corner of the world, where her reputation is challenged from time to time, but few provide the outward joie de vivre of her best friend, Vryling Buffam, Catherine Bailey, probably an invention of Davies’ imagination, whose energy and enthusiasm is infectious, stealing every scene she’s in with a kind of offbeat, Helena Bonham Carter, acerbic charm.  Many of their scenes together take place while dressed to the hilt, walking the grounds of the house while twirling parasols, as if plucked from a 19th century French impressionist painting.  Their joyous back and forth wit and banter could easily be the centerpiece of the film, much of it intentionally exaggerated and humorous, but instead it represents a kind of utopian hope that sadly never materializes.

There are distinctly original sequences sprinkled throughout this chamber drama, filmed by German cinematographer Florian Hoffmeister, who also filmed The Deep Blue Sea (2012), though none stand out more than the Dickinson family posing for daguerreotypes, with the cameraman begging the father to smile, causing him to shout out “I’m smiling!” but his countenance never changes, until each one slowly seems to age right before our eyes, revealing a kind of Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray effect, which is an extraordinary way to express time passing.  With friends and family suddenly abandoning her, including a slowly agonizing death of her bedridden mother, which only increased Emily’s domestic responsibilities, while losing her friend Vryling, who decided to settle for the compromise of marriage, where her departure is like the end of all youthful ideals suddenly disappearing into thin air, with Emily suppressing all romantic notions, confining herself more in her home, self-exiled to her bedroom, often never even venturing downstairs, a habit she shared with her mother.  Although brief, Davies does include a profoundly effective Civil War montage of still images, a period coinciding with her most creative output (composing more than 600 poems in just four years), showing bodies strewn on a battlefield, with tattered flags from each side still standing, as battlefield statistics are given for several of the bloodiest altercations.  When her father suffers a fatal heart attack, the film turns ominous, where Death itself, the personification of fleeting hopes, becomes a central character in the final third of the film, as Emily is so effected by it.  Few directors express the physical agony of brutality as well as Davies, whose earlier film, 2016 Top Ten List #7 Sunset Song, left no mistaking the grueling harshness for women in his portrait of Scottish life dominated by men leading up to WWI, where women suffer in silent perpetuity.  As Emily grows bitterer and more socially aloof through the years, never marrying, though carrying on long distance written correspondences, she also grows more despondent, reclusive, and lonely, dressing herself all in white, not even allowing visitors to see her, strangely speaking from behind doors or up staircases.  Still, it’s a shock to witness the ferocity of the seizures that accompany her affliction with Bright’s disease, a particularly debilitating kidney ailment that precipitates a long physical deterioration.  Unfortunately, too much time is spent with the overwhelming depression and despair associated with this lingering malady, showing a deference for profound melodramatic suffering, where the family drifts into an inert claustrophobic dysfunction, suddenly aware that they failed to live up to their earlier hopes and ambitions, where there’s nothing left to do about it.  Still, the gentle and forgiving kindness expressed by her sister Vinnie takes the sting out of Emily’s disappointment with her brother’s blatant moral failings, pleading “We’re only human, Emily.  Don’t pillory us for that,” salvaging what’s left of family devotion, though he tries her patience, having the last word by cruelly reading a newspaper article with one of Emily’s publishers minimizing the worth of female writers, declaring them sad and unhappy creatures writing literature of misery, filled with too much hopelessness and despair that blinds them through their tears, a strikingly arrogant and inaccurate assessment of the time, yet a typically male view that unfortunately prevailed for the next hundred years, which has the effect of freezing this disgraced imprint not only onto their deteriorating family relations, but to the surrounding cultural world at large.  In one of the more surreal scenes, Emily is visited by a faceless visitor, as if in a dream, who may be the presence of Death, but disappears as quickly as he came.  By the time Death arrives, it is accompanied by readings of her most recognized poem, Because I could not stop for Death, first published in 1862, cleverly narrating her own funeral, where the cosmic music of Charles Ives, Charles Ives - The Unanswered Question - YouTube (6:07), plays out over the end credits.