Peccato d'amore

I first saw this film on holiday in London c1973 when it was first released. It was showing at the prestigious Odean Cinema in London & I recall at the time this film was such a 'big deal' that the we were given (or bought) a large glossy souvenir program that came with the film. It was treated like we were attending the opera or theater. Look at the line up of big names who were a part of this. Laurence Olivier, John Mills, Ralph Richardson, Margaret Leighton & 'super star' Richard Chamberlain after his 'Dr Kildare' fame.

Forty years on it all seems rather ordinary and we know that Bolt was rather loose with the historical facts. But I still enjoyed seeing it again remembering that first time I saw it all those years ago. In fact, some of the best work Richard Chamberlain would do was in the 5-6 years he lived in the UK and about the time he made this. And even now I give it an 8/10

Only a besotted husband could send a love letter as wacky as this movie as Robert Bolt did to Sarah Miles; on which he squandered all the critical capital he'd amassed with 'Lawrence of Arabia' and 'A Man for All Seasons'.

The real Caroline Lamb (1785-1828) probably wasn't much like the unhinged pixie Sarah Miles plays here (and there never was another woman like Joan Greenwood in 'The Bad Lord Byron'). Lord Byron was certainly nothing like Richard Chamberlain in Freddie Mercury eyeliner. But dull it ain't.

This was one of four high-profile yet maligned films, all dating from the same year, which were slapped with the dreaded BOMB rating by the "Leonard Maltin Movie Guide"; conversely, the more conservative Leslie Halliwell was generally more receptive to their old-fashioned qualities! Anyway, two of these (including the one under review) had been very hard to come by, though both were quite recently shown on Italian TV – and, in fact, came across my copy of LADY CAROLINE LAMB off "You Tube" which I looked for on a whim on the occasion of co-star Richard Chamberlain's birthday! For the record, the other titles I am referring to are THE GREAT WALTZ (which still eludes me), MAN OF LA MANCHA and POPE JOAN (which has only been made available in a trimmed version and which I will be getting to presently in my Easter Epic marathon)…

I have always enjoyed pictures dealing with historical figures but, around the time this came out, these had acquired a Revisionist outlook which often exposed the less-than-pleasant details of their private lives. Perhaps the first to do this had been Ken Russell via a number of irreverent made-for-TV musical biopics throughout the 1960s but, by the end of the decade, his movie career had taken off in earnest – with THE MUSIC LOVERS, starring the afore-mentioned Chamberlain as Tchaikovsky, hitting the screens in 1971. Here, then, he is libertine poet Lord George Byron – first seen challenging a black man to a boxing match – who became the lover of the titular figure (played by Sarah Miles) while she was married to politician Sir William Lamb (Jon Finch). While we are told that such affairs were common practice, sometimes involving even royalty, they were mostly kept "discreet" – a term which certainly cannot be applied to the one depicted in the film.

Indeed, the movie's low estimation in some critics' minds has much to do with its definite camp value: Miles, sporting short-cropped hair, is tomboyish – never more so than, when uninvited to a dinner honouring the Duke of Wellington (Laurence Olivier) due to her scandalous behaviour (with Byron opting to escort another lady), she adopts the garments of the torch-carrying lads ostentatiously accompanying his carriage around at night!; worst of all, however, she attends a costume ball half-naked and in blackface (purporting to be Byron's negro slave!) – it is here that the cracks in their relationship start to show, as she is ignored by her partner and laughed at by her peers! Having mentioned Wellington, it is also unbecoming to watch either the famed general or the celebrated thespian indulge in a one-night stand with Miles; incidentally, things would come to a head between Caroline (often referred to merely as "Caro"!) and Byron at the Duke's party, where she attempts suicide!

Finch, an able orator in Parliament (a protégé of George Canning, played by John Mills, even if he stands on the opposite side in the House of Representatives), obviously suffers on account of his wife's indiscretions; indeed, he is asked to choose between her and his career by none other than King George IV (Ralph Richardson) – who had once been his own mother's (Margaret Leighton) lover! The elder woman had always resented Miles and, in fact, her coldness results in Caroline going mad at the end. Notable bit players here include Peter Bull, Pamela Brown and Michael Wilding; the production values were certainly the best that money could buy: the late cinematographer Oswald Morris, art director Carmen Dillon and composer Richard Rodney Bennett (who supplies the expected lush score).

Incidentally, this was award-winning playwright/scriptwriter Bolt's sole directorial foray – which he created and personally nurtured, so to speak, as a vehicle for his real-life wife Miles. A co-production between the U.K. and Italy, it incorporated an irrelevant and fairly embarrassing scene set in the latter country as Miles and Finch go on a trip and decide to take a nightly stroll in a former gladiatorial arena – which is soon infested with wretched souls clamouring for money and grub; what makes it so bad, however, is the fact that the extras were not locals since they speak in broken Italian (even rendering "impiccati" – meaning "hanged" – as "impiegati" – workers)! As I said, then, the print I watched – interrupted every once in a while by the wording "PLAY" and related video information – was not in the best of shape…but the film was nowhere near as unwatchable as I was led to believe; if anything, back in the day, it had managed to score BAFTA nominations for Richardson, Bennett and Dillon!

On a day in 1812, following the publication of his poem 'Childe Harold's Pilgrimage' a certain George Gordon Byron awoke to find himself famous. This celebrity proved to be a poisoned chalice. A disastrous marriage together with accusations of incest and sodomy caused him to quit these shores four years later, never to return. His brief but destructive affair with the already married Caroline Lamb is the centre piece of this film written and directed by Robert Bolt. The critical drubbing the film received deterred him from directing again which is a pity as he exhibits a sense of the visual and an eye for detail which is hardly surprising as he could not fail to have learned from the masters Lean and Zinnemann. Apparently Lean was offered the chance to direct but showed little interest. Bolt is well-served here by the cinematography of Oswald Morris, production design by Carmen Dillon and an excellent score by Richard Rodney Bennett. Unsatisfactory screen portrayals of Byron underline the near impossibility of capturing the complex, contradictory and mercurial nature of one of our greatest poets but given the limited opportunities here American actor Richard Chamberlain does extremely well although one has to question Bolt's decision to dispense with Byron's club foot. I may be in the minority but I feel that the generally negative response to the performance of Bolt's wife Sarah Miles in the title role is unwarranted as she has captured well the character's obsessiveness and emotional instability. This instability was not exactly helped by an addiction to Laudanum which Bolt again has chosen to ignore. Byron wrote that "Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare" but one senses that her feelings for him ran far deeper than mere infatuation with fame. Not for the first time it is the actors of the 'Old School' that provide real substance, including Laurence Olivier as Wellington, Ralph Richardson as George 1V, John Mills as Canning and especially Margaret Leighton who is gifted the best lines as Lady Melbourne. One of our classiest actresses whose performance is one of infinite subtlety and grace. This is a co-production with Italy which explains the presence of Silvia Monti as Byron's future wife Annabella Milbanke. She looks ravishing but is totally miscast and needless to say is 'dubbed'. There are inaccuracies, omissions and 'compromises' in this to be sure but that is the nature of biopics, take them or leave them.

A sherry-trifle of a biopic and period drama from '71-72, Lady Caroline Lamb captures the pneuma of 1972 - that greyest of hippie years so well. The early-'70s were pioneering years and 1972 was the year that saw the release of Andrey Tarkovsky's Solaris, Bill Douglas' My Ain Folk, Jack Couffer's The Darwin Adventure and Charlton Heston's Antony & Cleopatra. The scenes filmed in Italy at twilight at a palazzo and Roman amphitheatre are very evocative and have a sense of enchantment and stillness as do some of the interior shots featuring Lady Caroline and Richard Chamberlain's Lord Byron, while the score composed by English composer Richard Rodney Bennett is quite superb . Maudlin and melodramatic - Sarah Miles in appearance in some scenes prefigures the punk style of the mid-'70s - she sports a shock of grey/pinkish spiky hair. Jon Finch 'Frenzy' (1972) is good as the liberal Lord Melbourne while Sir Laurence Olivier's flair performance as the Duke of Wellington is splendid:- he sports a royal blue silk sash, Regency-Era wavy chestnut hair and a hooked putty false nose and is every inch the classical figure from the Age of Reason. Sir Ralph Richardson ( an actor born in 1902) as King George IV is both lyrical and amusing.