Ken Russell directed and co-authored this flagrantly useless biography of silent-screen legend Rudolph Valentino, adapted from the book "Valentino, an Intimate Exposé of The Sheik" by Brad Steiger and Chaw Mank; certainly the producers and actors associated with this film knew of Russell's penchant for the gross and bizarre, yet everyone seems to have jumped on-board blindfolded. It's a stiff and self-conscious circus, albeit one with an opulent 1920s production design. The essence of capturing a romantic hero of the movies on film has seldom come off (proof of that is the unsuccessful 1951 version of "Valentino" starring Anthony Dexter); here, Russian ballet star Rudolf Nureyev struggles with his Italian accent, struggles with his romantic partners, and really only looks comfortable with the dancing (an early scene featuring Valentino and Vaslav Nijinsky together on the dance floor is the picture's best moment). The impersonations of real-life players in Valentino's short life are grotesque caricatures, and the flashback conceit of female admirers recalling their associations with "The Sheik" after his premature demise is flabby and tiresome (and fails to pay off in any sort of narrative context). Ken Russell has never been very nimble with actors, but one expects more fireworks with this large cast (they are largely posed and wooden). Leslie Caron's nutty interpretation of famed actress Alla Nazimova gets some goosey laughs, and Seymour Cassel is always nice to have around as Valentino's manager, but the lead is too old for his role--and intensely uncharismatic on the screen. *1/2 from ****
Review of Valentino
