Tuesday, March 31, 2009

"I Have NOT Recieved Satisfaction..."

...until I get the chance to sit down and watch Barry Lyndon.


I can’t help it. I mentioned Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon last time I wrote, and I’ve been thinking about the movie ever since. There’s just no talking about the 18th century without talking about this fantastic movie. This is a controversial opinion, even among former film students, but Barry Lyndon has always and easily been my favorite Kubrick movie.


Even for 1975, this was a slow-paced movie, and time has done no favors in that area. What’s more, it’s set during the reign of George III, but never uses any major historical figures or events from the period that might make it more familiar to the casual viewer. (Most people are probably at least roughly aware of the events of the Seven Years War in North America, but who knows the details of the struggle on mainland Europe between Britain and Prussia?) There are no major stars that are recognizable today (Ryan O’Neal included), the story meanders from event to event, and the movie clocks in at over three hours. No wonder, then, that it doesn’t have quite the modern following as The Shining or Dr. Strangelove. It’s not a movie for everyone, but those of us that love it, love it.


First of all, it’s set during the reign of George III! From costumes and set design to accents and mannerisms, the movie brings the time period alive like few movies do. Where a movie like Gladiator makes a big show of its setting, immersing itself in Hollywood clichés about ancient Rome without giving us a single real glimpse of the culture of the era, Barry Lyndon lets the little things do all the talking. The music of the army, the ribbon game Barry plays with his cousin, the lusty-eyed loneliness of the German housewife, the slow pace and deadly seriousness of the card games—these are all tiny touches that make this movie a true period piece, not just a generic story stuffed into a specific time frame. The period is the story, and the two could not exist separate from one another.


But what makes Barry Lyndon Barry Lydon, above all else, are the visuals. Even if you can’t stomach the story, even if you get too bored to flip the DVD over for part II, there is no getting around the fact that this movie is gorgeous. Every frame of every shot is like a Romantic painting come to life. The very first long shot of Redmond Barry’s father’s death in a duel sets the tone, and there is not a single moment in this film that is not exciting to look at. It is probably most notable for the interior shots that were supposedly lit entirely using candles and period lighting, and this creates a kind of moody darkness and uneven lighting that immediately stands out, even to visually impaired sorts like myself, who understand the complexities of movie lighting about as well as we understand quantum mechanics.


Take any of the aforementioned card game scenes as an example. The characters are huddled close to the lights, which illuminate only the parts of the room nearest to them. Beyond the gaming table is a thick darkness, pierced perhaps by a wall sconce, but generally black. I’m sure someone better qualified than myself could spend hours talking about the technical know-how necessary to pull something like this off, and I’m sure with Kubrick no shortcuts were tolerated. Even in daylight scenes, the light comes in through windows only, creating environments that are never fully lit. This all combines to make the movie a visual experience unlike any other. People in the early 1800s would have had no concept of electric lighting, and this would affect behaviors, movement, even conversations. Kubrick accounted for this, and as a result Barry Lyndon looks more like contemporary paintings than a modern motion picture. No matter what you think of the plot or the characters, there is no getting around the visual achievement.



Personally, though, I love the characters. Not a single one of them are likable, heroic human beings, but they are all memorable, and every performance, even from the many, many small characters that come in and out of Redmond Barry’s life, is wonderful. Special mention, of course, goes to the foppish stepson of the title character, Lord Bullingdon, played by longtime Kubrick collaborator Leon Vitali. Despite the fact that he has been so clearly wronged by Barry Lyndon, and in a lesser movie would command the audience’s sympathy, as played by Vitali he remains a whiny, spoiled coward. During the final duel in the barn (the film’s best scene) Bullingdon shows no admirable characteristics—he is scared to the point of vomiting, and refuses to show an ounce of mercy to his broken stepfather.

Even if Bullingdon fails to arouse our sympathies, there are no characters in the film as reprehensible as the star himself, Redmond Barry (later Barry Lyndon.) If the film has a central plot, it is the story of Barry’s rise from an innocent farm boy to a self-indulgent, abusive, and soulless aristocrat. Kubrick doesn’t sugar coat this. This is no modern “He did evil for all the right reasons” kind of story. Barry is an opportunist who uses everyone around him to claw his way to the top, without a single (as far as I can tell) noble intention. That said, Barry is not evil. He starts out as a generally good man, and he is genuinely devoted to his young son. Characters in this world do not act in the usual roles of good and evil, they simply exist. Good intentions are marred by cowardice, in the case of Lord Bullingdon, and integrity is corroded by wealth, in the case of Barry. There are no heroes here. If I could explain why this works, I would love to do a movie with the same moral ambiguity, but generally movies with such unlikable characters are a recipe for disaster. Perhaps because Kubrick so unflinchingly portrays these people with all their human failings, an audience can, if not relate, at least understand.


As I’ve said, for my money the best scene is the final duel between Lord Bullingdon and Barry Lyndon. Dueling is a major part of the movie, and if you’re someone who can’t say “I demand satisfaction” without breaking into gleeful giggles of joy, than this movie is right for you. In this final scene, the two combatants face off with pistols in an old barn, birds flapping through the rafters, and only a thin layer of sunlight piercing through the decaying roof. God knows how long they stand there, pistols ready, waiting to take their shots. The suspense is so intense that it has driven more than one Kubrick fan mad. As many times as I’ve seen the movie, I still can’t get through that last scene without a great deal of hand-wringing.


It all leads up to the final punch-line: “It was in the reign of George III that the aforesaid personages lived and quarreled; good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now.” This last title card gives me chills at the same time it brings a smile. I’ve never read the 19th century novel on which the movie is based, but I hear this line appears there as well. Whatever its origin, it is the perfect note to go out on. After over three hours of watching these deplorable people struggle for title and property, we are slammed with this simplistic, sobering reminder of just how entirely pointless it all was—and is. Abandoning your principles, sticking to them, chasing after wealth and privilege or living a life of self-sacrifice—none of that will make you any less dead. Classic Kubrick.

I could go on forever about this movie—there’s so much of the plot, themes, and events that I’ve yet to touch on. I never even got into the soundtrack (though I made reference to it in my last entry) or the brilliant funeral scene it famously accompanies. Really, though, it’s just something that has to be experienced. If you’ve seen the movie, you probably either love it, respect it, or were bored to tears by it, and if you haven’t, there’s no time like the present. This is one of those movies that remind me why I love movies, and it’s also great reminder of why Kubrick deserves his reputation. As the trailer would have no doubt said, had I been in charge: “If you demand cinematic satisfaction, look no further than Barry Lyndon.”

NOTE: If that last joke isn’t funny, odds are Barry Lyndon is not the movie for you.

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