An intricate character study of a rake's progress, Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon (1975) is a methodical, stylish and often surreally lush spectacle; it's attention to period detail arguably unsurpassed. Based on William Thackeray's sprawling novel, the film is in many ways a throwback to the grandiose big budget historical epics that were so in vogue throughout the late fifties and early sixties. After 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) Kubrick became enthralled with making a film about Napoleon. The like minded subject matter featured in Dino De Laurentis production of Waterloo (1970) and its spectacularly disastrous reception from both the public and the critics caused Kubrick's backers to panic and renege on their financing.
Outraged but unable to find new financiers Kubrick turned his attentions to making A Clockwork Orange (1971) instead. Then, in 1972 Kubrick became enamoured with Thackeray's Vanity Fair, a book not made into a movie since 1933. Timing again was off, with the BBC beating Kubrick to the punch by producing a television series based on Thackeray's masterwork. At this point, Kubrick took solace in another Thackeray novel, The Luck of Barry Lyndon and, in retrospect it's easy to see why. Like most of Kubrick's filmic heroes, the novel's protagonist is a tragically flawed man whose aspirations bring utter ruination to everything he touches.
One can say that Kubrick came to Thackeray's novel third best or perhaps more accurately, thrice removed. Although the resulting film bears Kubrick's hallmark for meticulous planning, there is an odd disconnect between the director's style and the film's subject matter.
The screenplay by Kubrick follows the novel's trajectory quite closely - perhaps too closely for a director so used to veering wildly from his source material. It's 1844 and Redmond Barry (Ryan O'Neal) is our picaresque Irish rake. His father has been killed in a duel leaving Barry's mother (Marie Kean) devoted to her son's upbringing. During his youth Barry is tempted into an illicit affair with his cousin, Nora Brady (Gay Hamilton); a ruthless spider who goads his lust until a well-borne English Captain, John Quinn (Leonard Rossiter) proposes marriage.
Unable to reconcile his thwarted feelings for Nora, Barry demands satisfaction from Quinn in a duel. The game, however, is rigged. Although Barry shoots Quinn in the chest, the gun's ammunition has been switched to mere tow. Quinn, a coward at heart, fakes his own death forcing Barry into exile in Dublin.
Regrettably, Barry is held up by a highwayman (Arthur O'Sullivan) along the open road. Penniless, he is forced to join the British Army. There, an old friend of the family, Captain Grogan (Godfrey Quigley) informs Barry that Quinn not only survived the duel but has since married Nora.
Barry's regiment is sent to fight the Seven Year's War where Grogan is fatally wounded in a skirmish with the French. His life once again unbearable, Barry decides to steal an officer's uniform and a horse and become a deserter. En route to Holland he encounters Prussian Captain Potzdorf (Hardy Kruger) who sees through his disguise and enlists him in the Prussian Army instead. Barry saves Potzdorf's life after another battle and is given a commission in the Prussian Police as his reward.
His first assignment is to spy on the Chevalier de Balibari (Patrick Magee); a professional gambler who is suspected of embezzlement and cheating. Instead, Barry becomes the Chevalier's friend. They escape Holland together and travel the finer spas all over Europe, profiting handsomely by their wicked manipulation of the cards. But Barry's one fascination in life - to become a gentleman - has yet to be fulfilled.
To this end, Barry seduces the wealthy Countess of Lyndon (Marisa Berenson) under the watchful eye of her elderly and ailing husband, Sir Charles (Frank Middlemass). After Sir Charles' death Barry marries the Countess and takes her last name for his own. The couple settle in England where Barry's first attempts to ingratiate himself as a stepfather to the Countess ten year old son, Lord Bullingdon (Dominic Savage) are an utter disaster. The child despises Barry who proves to live down these low expectations by wantonly spending the Countess's money and eventually becoming unfaithful to her in their marriage with multiple lovers.
Eventually, Barry comes to his senses and realizes how much he loves his wife. The Countess forgives him and gives birth to their only son, Bryan Patrick (David Morley); a loving and affectionate child whom the adult Lord Bullingdon (Leon Vitali) also comes to loathe. On his seventh birthday, Bryan falls from the horse made a gift to him by his father. He is trampled to death.
Now Barry's mother advises her son to cultivate an acquaintance with the influential Lord Wendover (Andre Morell) to obtain a noble title to protect himself from financial ruin. Seeing the purpose of this alliance, Lord Bullingdon publicly assaults Barry's reputation at a concert with accusations that he is a debaucher and a deceiver.
Unable to control his wrath, Barry beats and attempts to strangle his stepson in front of the crowd. He is barely restrained, branded a social pariah and loses all of his friendships with Lord Wendover and the others in high standing that he worked so hard to cultivate. Fearing that the Countess' spiritual advisor Reverend Samuel Runt (Murray Melvin) is plotting with Lord Bullingdon to dissolve Barry's marriage, Barry's mother dismisses Runt from court. Upon hearing the news Lord Bullingdon challenges Barry to a duel. However, Lord Bullingdon's gun misfires, providing Barry with the opportunity he has been waiting for: to kill his ungrateful stepson. Instead, Barry chooses to spoil his shot, forcing Lord Bullingdon to take another at him. Bullingdon's musket shatters Barry's knee cap and he loses his leg as a result. While Barry is convalescing Bullingdon takes over all the financial concerns of his late father's estate, granting Barry an annuity of 500 guineas for life if he ends his marriage to the Countess and leaves England forever. Demoralized and ailing, a reluctant Barry accepts the offer.
Barry Lyndon is sumptuous entertainment to be sure. John Alcott's striking cinematography - shot using only natural light and candle light when necessary - extols the breathtaking natural splendours of the Irish countryside (subbing in for England, Holland and the rest of Europe). Ken Adams and Roy Walker's Art Direction is first rate. Unlike other costume epics the world of Barry Lyndon looks resplendent but lived in.
Kubrick's casting choices are interesting though not entirely successful. A former fashion model, Marisa Berenson is undeniably beautiful but she lacks any sort of genuine character of her own to live and breathe as the tragic countess in the film. Rarely does she defy the window dressing of her former profession and never does her presence solicit anything more than a few quiet sighs from her more ardent male admirers.
Ryan O'Neal does not fair much better; his soft, 70s handsomeness at odds with the overall vintage ruggedness of the character in Thackeray's novel. There's no evolution to O'Neal's technique either as the story progresses. Although his makeup and hair age throughout the story his acting regrettably remains rigidly the same. From a purely visual perspective, of all the actors in the film O'Neal looks the most uncomfortable in his period wigs and costumes.
When it was released Barry Lyndon was not a success. Critic's decried its aloof distant narrative. In point of fact, as the audience we are never invited to live in the same world as the characters. Kubrick keeps us deliberately at a distance. The scenes unfold as stately elegance, are painterly in their execution, yet oddly static in their presentation. In this critic's opinion, Kubrick's style does not hurt the film and neither does its excruciatingly lugubrious pacing.
Viewed today, Barry Lyndon endures like a work of art far removed from the decade it was conceived in. It has a cadence and a tempo unlike other films of its vintage, and it has the Kubrick touch to recommend it. When other aspects about the story falter, Kubrick's overriding vision never allows the film to entirely succumb into an artistic failure.
Warner Home Video's Blu-ray captures all of the subtle nuances in John Alcott's cinematography. The 1080p image from start to finish is breathtaking and refined. Colours are vibrant. Flesh tones are accurately realized. Film grain is represented as grain and not digital grit. The stylized and occasionally softly focused cinematography is gorgeous from start to finish. Truly, there is nothing to complain about here.
The audio is a DTS remaster. The score, comprised mostly of traditional pieces slightly re-orchestrated to fit the action is quite aggressive as are the sound effects of muskets being fired during battle. My one regret is that Warner Home Video has placed no time or effort in providing fans of this movie with either an audio commentary, a documentary on its making or even a brief featurette to compliment this presentation. We get a theatrical trailer and that's all.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
4.5
EXTRAS
0
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