It took me a long time to see this film. I remember Siskal and Ebert's review of it, and it has been on my list since 1989. For some reason, it took me a while, but I just watched it on DVD this month. It is a great film, and I can tell you why.
First, let me address the tenor of most of the objections others have voiced. They are "disgusted," the film is "sick," and so on. These judgments are, essentially, unrelated to the merit if the film and more related to the squeamishness of the reviewers. It is not a film that spares the viewer any unpleasantness, but it is a film that rewards the viewer with a cogent, essentially moral, fable of good and evil.
Here is what makes the film great, in simple terms we can all readily grasp: the sets; the performances; the music; the cinematography; the costuming; and the emotionally gratifying and timely catharsis at the end.
The sets are brilliant. This is not a naturalistic film, but a symbolic one. What happens in the film is fantastic, and not likely actually to happen (another similarity to opera). Therefore the fantastic, operatic sets, freed from any close correspondence to reality, create an environment in which the exaggerated venality of Albert and his gang can be believed. In a naturalistic setting, no one would believe Albert's hyperbolic behavior.
While some have compared this film to a low-budget horror film, it is unlikely that one will find the equal of Helen Mirren or Michael Gambon in one of those. Their performances are simply brilliant. Mirren's and Gambon's performances both rise to the level of a tour de force. Helen Mirren's fine, chiseled voice and her excellent timing absolutely stand out. For example, the line, at the end, when she holds the gun on Albert and says, "You vowed you'd kill him, and you did. You vowed you'd eat him. So eat him," The perfect length of the pause before the last sentence is sheer artistry. It is, in part, subtle details like this that stand out before the sweep of the film that make it a great film.
The music -- especially the main theme -- contributes significant authority to the film. The main theme is introduced with strings alone; as the climax of the film approaches, the strings are augmented with a raucous, ripping chorus of saxophones. At the penultimate moment in the film, when a roasted human being is presented to the hapless villain, the strings and saxophones together reach a pitch of distress that matches perfectly the grisly outcome of the plot.
The costuming, the symbolism of the colors, but above all the sheer villainy expressed in Gambon's performance as well as the lovely, determined longing of Helen Mirren's character, Georgina, place this film far and above the usual.
There is limited space here to explain why this film is truly great. The astute viewer, who perhaps disliked the film because of the shock value, should consider that the shock value is not Greenaway's intent. The shock is there to help throw into sharp relief the noble human qualities of love, loyalty, and kindness. The tragedy is that these qualities were able to oppose the villain's cynicism only by resorting to rough justice.
One of the greatest films, ever.
First, let me address the tenor of most of the objections others have voiced. They are "disgusted," the film is "sick," and so on. These judgments are, essentially, unrelated to the merit if the film and more related to the squeamishness of the reviewers. It is not a film that spares the viewer any unpleasantness, but it is a film that rewards the viewer with a cogent, essentially moral, fable of good and evil.
Here is what makes the film great, in simple terms we can all readily grasp: the sets; the performances; the music; the cinematography; the costuming; and the emotionally gratifying and timely catharsis at the end.
The sets are brilliant. This is not a naturalistic film, but a symbolic one. What happens in the film is fantastic, and not likely actually to happen (another similarity to opera). Therefore the fantastic, operatic sets, freed from any close correspondence to reality, create an environment in which the exaggerated venality of Albert and his gang can be believed. In a naturalistic setting, no one would believe Albert's hyperbolic behavior.
While some have compared this film to a low-budget horror film, it is unlikely that one will find the equal of Helen Mirren or Michael Gambon in one of those. Their performances are simply brilliant. Mirren's and Gambon's performances both rise to the level of a tour de force. Helen Mirren's fine, chiseled voice and her excellent timing absolutely stand out. For example, the line, at the end, when she holds the gun on Albert and says, "You vowed you'd kill him, and you did. You vowed you'd eat him. So eat him," The perfect length of the pause before the last sentence is sheer artistry. It is, in part, subtle details like this that stand out before the sweep of the film that make it a great film.
The music -- especially the main theme -- contributes significant authority to the film. The main theme is introduced with strings alone; as the climax of the film approaches, the strings are augmented with a raucous, ripping chorus of saxophones. At the penultimate moment in the film, when a roasted human being is presented to the hapless villain, the strings and saxophones together reach a pitch of distress that matches perfectly the grisly outcome of the plot.
The costuming, the symbolism of the colors, but above all the sheer villainy expressed in Gambon's performance as well as the lovely, determined longing of Helen Mirren's character, Georgina, place this film far and above the usual.
There is limited space here to explain why this film is truly great. The astute viewer, who perhaps disliked the film because of the shock value, should consider that the shock value is not Greenaway's intent. The shock is there to help throw into sharp relief the noble human qualities of love, loyalty, and kindness. The tragedy is that these qualities were able to oppose the villain's cynicism only by resorting to rough justice.
One of the greatest films, ever.