REVERSAL OF FORTUNE: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1990) Warner Archive

What is it about ‘murder’ we continue to find so fascinating? Mercifully, most of us lack the impetus to commit one. I will also venture an educated guess, none of us would want to play the part of the victim either. Yet, splashed across the tabloids, reconstituted as fiction for novels, made into serialized TV dramas and/or movie ‘thrillers’ – murder, most foul emerges as, undeniably, something we instinctively love to watch. Crime in general appeals to our inner Sherlock Holmes or Jessica Fletcher, I suppose.  Figuring out ‘who’ done it, how they did it and what in the hell they did it for triggers something in our collective desire for the endless pursuit of possibilities, firing our powers of deduction. That is one explanation, anyway. Except the logic behind our unsettling zeal for the perfect murder gets brutally complicated in Barbet Schroeder’s Reversal of Fortune (1990) as its subject is Claus Von Bulow, arguably, one of the 20th century’s most notorious, perhaps misunderstood and, irrefutably charismatic villains. The genius in Schroeder’s exposé resides with Nicholas Kazan’s elegant screenplay and Jeremy Iron’s malignant re-incarnation of Von Bulow, contagiously aberrant, yet rakishly appealing, with the late – great – Ron Silver, as Harvard Law Professor/lawyer, Alan Dershowitz, engaging this self-professed ‘prince of perversion’ in an intellectual battle royale. Reversal of Fortune is a stylish affair with a lingering sense of all-pervading darkness about the crime at hand – if, indeed, one has been committed. Perhaps, we’ll never know, as Sunny Von Bulow never stirred to regale us with the actual cause of her persistent vegetative state, and Claus, the Danish-born attorney, who once lived an entire week with the corpse of his mother in a London flat, died of natural causes in 2019. So, nobody’s talking. Well, almost nobody.   

Born Claus Cecil Borberg, of German/Danish extraction, suave to a fault, but later accused of injecting wife, Martha Sharp Crawford (nee von Auersperg from a first-failed marriage, and, better known to the world as ‘Sunny’ Von Bulow) with a lethal dose of insulin: there is a lot more to Claus than first meets the eye. He was a man who seemingly distorted the legalities of the criminal justice system on two continents and managed to circumvent the time-honored precept, ‘crime doesn’t pay’, on more than one occasion. The morbidity of Claus’ crime against Sunny (if, in fact, under the legalese of devil’s advocacy, one had been committed) is only matched by our insidious desire to know all we can about this rather aloof scion. He practiced law, but then married rich in 1966.  He had affairs with prominent socialites, yet favored prostitutes. He flaunted the seeming transparency of his crime with repeated nonchalance in his further deceptions, particularly in the face of public scrutiny to believe the very worst about him, and, as such was branded a pariah to moral decency, incurring almost unanimous outrage in, not one, but two, highly publicized murder trials – the first, marred by imperfect ‘tampered’ evidence, ending in a hasty conviction of 30-years. This was later overturned on appeal in what many continue to regard as a grotesque miscarriage of justice.

Hard truth to swallow: the wealthy really do live and die by a different set of rules.  In preparing his movie, based on Alan Dershowitz’s infamous ‘tell all’, Reversal of Fortune steadily evolves into a diabolically delicious treat of a melodrama. At one point, an exacerbated Dershowitz (played to perfection by the late Ron Silver - who died of esophageal cancer in 2009) glowers with intellectually frustrated resolve. “You’re a very strange man,” he mutters to Claus with a modicum of disgust. Claus (played with bone-chilling brilliance by Jeremy Irons) slyly suggests, “You have no idea.” The curious – oft’ wickedly barbed camaraderie festering between these two men, neither entirely trusting of the other, is adversarial to a fault, and fuels Nicholas Kazan’s narrative with an acidic tension, infectious, vivid and thoroughly satisfying. Reversal of Fortune isn’t a ‘whodunit’ per say, despite the fact we really do not know if Claus is guilty of the crime of murder as charged. True enough, as trial #2 commences, Sunny Von Bulow (Glenn Close) lays demure and unknowing of the media frenzy her drug-induced coma has caused, oblivious to public outcries for justice on her behalf. Sunny eventually died, some 28-years after slipping into her persistent vegetative state, never to share her version of the ambiguous events that led to her demise.

But what really happened inside the impossibly lavish Newport, Rhode Island estate serving as the couple’s unhappy home from 1966 to 1988 remains largely an enigma between Sunny, Claus and their God – or a reasonable facsimile. While speculations have run rampant in the interim, the reality is neither Sunny nor Claus was without their flaws, some greatly exaggerated by jealous, disdainful ex-lovers on both sides, and, remade into pure conjecture put forth in the tabloids, expounded as popular opinion, given the credence of ‘reasonable doubt’ by an ambitious Rhode Island prosecuting attorney. It all makes for a nice, dirty little scandal, n’est pas?  And, at some level, it fit the public’s appetite, seeking revenge on Claus – a man of means largely acquired through marriage, who could easily be made the scapegoat to satisfy our collective vitriol to believe the worst about people we secretly envy.  This review is not a treatise, exoneration, nor defense of Claus Von Bulow. In point of fact, he is probably guilty of something; if not directly the fatal injection, then most certainly, other despicable behaviors likely to prompt an emotionally distraught and knowingly unloved spouse into punishing herself with unhealthy indulgences that contributed to her untimely end.

Kazan’s screenplay assumes no moral judgment, probably to escape a liable suit. After all, Claus was still very much alive when the picture was made. Instead, Kazan’s is a fairly clinical approach to the facts, putting forth several alternative theories as bloodless and contradictory as the actual case formulated by the Rhode Island D.A. What remains utterly fascinating about Reversal of Fortune is its performances, especially the combative and threadbare détente of necessity between Silver’s earthy and moralizing defense attorney and Irons’ cruelly original man we love to hate. To a lesser degree we empathize with Glenn Close’s martyred maven of the maison, whose paralysis is counterbalanced with a more vibrant turn as the omnipotent narrator of what amounts to a series of titillating flashbacks depicting Sunny in her youth, and later, remade as the belligerent harridan, who angrily shunned even good sense and the outstretched hands of tolerance and concern offered by her children. Some of these vignettes replay the moment of coma over and over again to hammer home the particulars of the case. Others illustrate how a seemingly perfect marriage – or perhaps, bittersweet affaire de Coeur – could turn so utterly rancid, then tragic within just a few short decades. There are other players to consider. Annabella Sciorra’s sassy Sarah – Dershowitz’s former attachment and student; square-jawed, Jack Gilpin as Peter MacIntosh, lead investigator on the case, who ultimately assumes the position of Dershowitz’s co-council at trial; Fisher Stevens – as delectable slime ball, David Marriott (a sort of precursor to Kato Kaelin); Christine Baranski as Andrea Reynolds, Claus’ latest flame and utterly bigoted gal pal (“Get the Jew, I said.”); and veteran actress, Uta Hagen, as Sunny’s devoted maid, Maria. The aforementioned do not necessarily get a lot of play time in this movie, but each distinguishes his/her self with memorable moments of introspection to stand in relief.

We begin with a truly outstanding aerial shot over Newport, lensed by cinematographer, Luciano Tovoli; the tracking smooth as silk as we sail past sunlit waterfront properties, perfectly manicured laws, belonging to the ultra-wealthy. However, we soon learn something is decidedly remiss behind at least one of these stately facades. Mark Isham’s sinister score punctuates the main titles with minor chords as we descend from heaven into a corridor of a nearby hospital where a catatonic Sunny von Bulow lays, breathing from a ventilator, with other sundry medical apparatuses monitor her blood pressure and heart rate and drain her urine. We hear Sunny’s voice from beyond, smarmy, seemingly enjoying all this vicarious ogling of her well-preserved and lingering corpse. In short order, we are given a recap of Claus’ first trial and conviction on the charges of ‘first degree’ murder, a conviction all too likely not to stand on appeal. But lest we forget – as though Sunny will let us – that gin, too many sweets, insulin and destiny play funny tricks…or do they?

We regress to a modest wooden two-story, the home of Harvard law professor and practicing attorney, Alan Dershowitz. Alan’s basketball practice is interrupted by a phone call he was not expecting. Two of his clients whom he knows to be innocent have just been sentenced to die in the electric chair.  Smashing his cordless telephone against the pavement, Dershowitz is beside himself until his son, Elon (Stephen Mailer) informs him someone named Claus Von Bulow is on the other line. Believing the call, a crank, Alan takes matters into his own hands and is visibly impressed when he realizes the voice at the other end really is Von Bulow, asking him to take his case. It dawns on Dershowitz that, in accepting the challenge to liberate Claus, he could use the fee to file a litany of appeals in defense of his other clients.  And so, the initial meeting between Claus and Alan commences with Dershowitz’s skepticism firmly in place, unabated after meeting Claus’ latest plaything, Andrea Reynolds - a waspish doyen, too arrogant to realize she is a bigot.

To break the ice, Claus suggests he and Alan have lunch at Twenty-One. Alan frankly reveals to Claus that his case holds very little interest for him. Yet, there remains one benefit to his otherwise disadvantaged odds of winning on appeal. “Everyone hates you,” Alan explains. “Well, that’s a start,” Claus concurs. Alan’s students are initially appalled by their mentor’s decision to defend Claus. However, Alan explains that if lawyers only defended innocent people there would be virtually no employment opportunities in the chosen profession for this aspiring brood. Conceding that, as an exercise alone, the case has its intrigues – if not merits – one by one, the students rally around the cause, congregating at Dershowitz’s home and taking over several rooms on the upper level to launch their private investigation into the facts. Alan’s former lover, Sarah is, at first, disgusted by Claus, who makes light of the public’s vitriol with devil-may-care jest that seems unscrupulous and callous at best, even telling jokes about his supposed attempt on Sunny’s life and referring to a fear of insulin as ‘Claus-trophobia’.

As Dershowitz’s defense of Claus kicks into high gear, we are treated to various flashbacks. These superficially explain the first act of the Von Bulow’s life together, as well as Sunny’s first and second comas. However, the picture being painted herein is hardly flattering. It seems Sunny would have preferred Claus to remain her kept man. His insistence on working as a trade-advising attorney on Wall Street incurs her formidable ire. “You’re the prince of perversion,” she hisses, her insinuation taking on double meaning as we learn during their marriage, Claus was heatedly involved with soap opera star, Alexandra Isles (Julie Hagerty), as well as indulging his more immediate lusts on a steady diet of high-priced hookers.  We also catch glimpses of Von Bulow’s first attorney, Robert Brillhoffer (Thomas Dorff) and Claus’ stepson, Alexander (Jad Mager). Together with devoted housekeeper, Maria, they locate Sunny’s medical bag, filled with prescription drugs and encrusted needles of insulin, later used at trial to ‘frame’ Claus in Sunny’s attempted murder.

In his impassioned appeal, Dershowitz argues any and all of this evidence could have been either easily manufactured or tampered with after the fact. Moreover, tests conducted by several independent labs indicate false positive matches for insulin even when no insulin was present. Armed with this new evidence, Dershowitz prepares to go to trial. Regrettably, Alan’s previous interviews with one, David Marriott – a known drug dealer and pimp, swearing he supplied both Sunny and Claus’ stepson with illegal drugs – has tape-recorded all of their conversations, then doctored the tapes to imply Alan was paying him for fabricated evidence to win his case at any and all costs. Threatened with the very real possibility, not only of losing his case, but disbarment, Dershowitz fights back, discrediting Marriott to clear his name before proceeding to trial. The movie concludes with Claus’ exoneration. We return to Sunny’s bedside where her voiceover muses with devilish satisfaction, “This is all you can ever know”; an evasive comment, suggesting there is so much more to tell. We see Claus enter a local convenience store/pharmacy, buying a pack of cigarettes from the congenial clerk (Constance Shulman) whose blood runs cold after she suddenly recognizes Claus from his picture splashed across the tabloids on a nearby magazine rack. “Will there be anything else?” she nervously asks. “A vial of insulin,” Claus replies with a sinister grin and then, a wink, “Just kidding.”

Reversal of Fortune is a movie entirely made in its performances. Indeed, it evolves more along the lines of a stage play than a motion picture, with its’ three-act structure fairly transparent, if never uninspired. What is exceptional about the movie is its dialogue, direct, concise, full of revelations, and, potently loaded to be emoted by its three galvanic stars. Jeremy Irons is the more brilliantly varied and diseased performance. It won him a justly deserved Best Actor Academy Award. Here is an elegantly evil Venus fly trap in the shape-shifted reincarnation of a sly bon vivant, drawing his prey with the fragrant whiff of promised moneyed treats. Irons, who I immensely admire and quite simply wish would do more (he can read the telephone book for all I care), is a supremely gifted thespian slotted into that ‘untouchable’ category with very few contemporaries (Morgan Freeman and Anthony Hopkins being his only two real/reel rivals). Ron Silver’s Dershowitz is not so easily played by Claus. Nor is he seduced into thinking his overturning of the original verdict necessarily equates to a personal triumph. “Legally, this was an important victory,” Silver’s Dershowitz sternly reminds Claus before leaving him to his own accord, “Morally…you're on your own.” I sincerely wish Ron Silver were still with us – a brilliantly conceived ‘second fiddle’ to Irons’ towering tour de force. It’s the subtleties rather than the grandstanding in Silver’s turn as Dershowitz that really dig into the heart and soul of this second half – though never second rate – performance.

And hence, the audience too is left, as it were, with grave ambivalence to mull over these incomplete facts, impressions, misrepresentations, and machinations in a salacious game of judicial Tiddlywinks, splitting hairs with manufactured and re-evaluated evidence of a ‘possible’ crime that may or may not have occurred, and, even more frustratingly, to conclude neither with Claus’ implied innocence or proven guilt. In retrospect, Claus’ deviant sense of entitlement made him his own worst enemy. Yes, he was a philanderer. Or no - his was an open marriage, his so-called affairs, mutually agreed upon beforehand. Either way, a philanderer and cad do not a murderer make. And for what purpose would Claus murder his wife. For money? He already it and chose instead to work for a living. For greed? Possibly, though there is little to suggest Sunny denied her husband anything throughout their stormy alliance. To get on with another of his more intimate playmates? The last time I checked, divorce was still preferable to murder. Alas, the public is always ready to condemn the accused and deify the victim – particularly one who cannot speak for herself. Permit us this suggestion then, Sunny Von Bulow was hardly a saint. She was, in fact, prone to fits of violence and bouts of extreme depression. How much of this was brought on by her genuine unhappiness in the marriage? Ah, now therein lies the truer crux to this investigation, a hidden place within spousal privilege the public never saw at trial and likely will never be unearthed for further clarity.

So, we have Claus’ side and that is all. But even as the old adage goes, about there being three sides to every situation – his, hers and ‘the truth’ – Reversal of Fortune is exceedingly clever at playing both sides (his/hers) off the middle (the truth…or at the very least, reality as perceived by Nicholas Kazan). And Kazan has done a rather exemplary job of distilling Dershowitz’s book about the trial into a thoroughly fascinating character study that gets to the heart of the matter without artistic license making wild allegations to further cloud the public’s perceptions about these two people we only ‘think’ we know. In the final analysis, Reversal of Fortune is an engrossing drama about an utterly charming devil.  Claus Von Bulow – unrepentant, slick and stylish, left to enjoy life and Sunny’s money, a pariah in the minds of many or wrongly accused to satisfy our collective jealousy about the idle rich? It is very likely we will never know.  Perhaps, it’s best that way.

Warner Archive’s Blu-ray of Reversal of Fortune rectifies the egregious sins of the DVD from 1999. This was riddled in age-related dirt, wear and tear, and, throughout the main titles, a rather obvious vertical scratch running down the right-hand side of the screen. The source for the Blu-ray has not been advertised as such, but gives every indication of deriving from an original camera negative that has been the benefactor of some major clean-up. Owing to optical printing limitations at the time, the main titles continue to look rather thick. The aforementioned vertical scratch is gone (thankfully!), and, the image here is brighter and more nuanced. But grain appears denser than normal, and certainly more exaggerated than it is throughout the rest of the movie. For the record, once we clear the hurdle of the main titles, what is here looks excellent from beginning to end. Colors are robust. Flesh tones – natural. Contrast is superb. We get a light smattering of grain looking very indigenous to its source and virtually zero age-related artifacts or untoward digital tinkering. This is a quality affair that will surely not disappoint. The 2.0 DTS audio is solid. Great stuff. Ported over from the DVD – a director’s audio commentary and a theatrical trailer. Nothing else. Bottom line: Reversal of Fortune is a truly entertaining night at the movies. Very highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1