Having just been Oscared for his thin, wooden acting in The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1957), Alec Guinness (best actor, Venice, Sant Jordi) gave a stupendous performance as unkempt, scurrilous, gravely-voiced Gulley Jimson, a painter (in the manner of Blake) whose poverty matches his seesawing megalomania and humility in the striking comedy The Horse’s Mouth, which Guinness himself, softening some of its edges, brilliantly adapted from Joyce Cary’s 1944 novel, allegedly inspired by poet Dylan Thomas’s example. A decade later the minimally competent director, Ronald Neame, would not nearly be so lucky with another outsized, outrageous personality, the dangerously influential schoolteacher in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969). Because Brodie is a fascist, she is not nearly as much fun as Gulley.
Not that Gulley isn’t dangerous himself. Watch how he invades the posh apartment of vacationers and, setting his disciples to work, appropriates a living room wall for one of his murals and leaves a crater where there had been a floor. Not that anyone has commissioned him to do anything; but Gulley “gets paid” anyhow by selling the couple’s possessions. Artists, after all, also have to live—and Gulley has a knack of scraping by at the expense of others.
Guinness is painfully funny as Gulley, whose financial situation painfully reflects that of countless artists. Gulley does his best to discourage the highschooler who begs him for tutoring: “Don’t become an artist!” When the boy sings his praises, Gulley compares himself to his late father, “a real artist” who “painted noses in the right place” and “died a pauper.” For all its knockabout hilarity, this film admits poignant accents.
Tough for me to navigate: the degree to which Coker (Kay Walsh, best supporting actress, National Board of Review), his girlfriend, doesn’t even remotely appreciate what it is that Gulley does. It’s infuriating, although she takes care of him in other ways, and Gulley is so much his own person that it may be hard for Coker to find a way in.
As wonderful as Guinness is, his was not the best performance of an artist that year. That honor goes to Gérard Philipe as Modigliani in Jacques Becker’s Montparnasse 19 (1958).
This entry was posted on November 19, 2009 at 11:11 pm and is filed under Informal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
THE HORSE’S MOUTH (Ronald Neame, 1958)
By grunesHaving just been Oscared for his thin, wooden acting in The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1957), Alec Guinness (best actor, Venice, Sant Jordi) gave a stupendous performance as unkempt, scurrilous, gravely-voiced Gulley Jimson, a painter (in the manner of Blake) whose poverty matches his seesawing megalomania and humility in the striking comedy The Horse’s Mouth, which Guinness himself, softening some of its edges, brilliantly adapted from Joyce Cary’s 1944 novel, allegedly inspired by poet Dylan Thomas’s example. A decade later the minimally competent director, Ronald Neame, would not nearly be so lucky with another outsized, outrageous personality, the dangerously influential schoolteacher in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1969). Because Brodie is a fascist, she is not nearly as much fun as Gulley.
Not that Gulley isn’t dangerous himself. Watch how he invades the posh apartment of vacationers and, setting his disciples to work, appropriates a living room wall for one of his murals and leaves a crater where there had been a floor. Not that anyone has commissioned him to do anything; but Gulley “gets paid” anyhow by selling the couple’s possessions. Artists, after all, also have to live—and Gulley has a knack of scraping by at the expense of others.
Guinness is painfully funny as Gulley, whose financial situation painfully reflects that of countless artists. Gulley does his best to discourage the highschooler who begs him for tutoring: “Don’t become an artist!” When the boy sings his praises, Gulley compares himself to his late father, “a real artist” who “painted noses in the right place” and “died a pauper.” For all its knockabout hilarity, this film admits poignant accents.
Tough for me to navigate: the degree to which Coker (Kay Walsh, best supporting actress, National Board of Review), his girlfriend, doesn’t even remotely appreciate what it is that Gulley does. It’s infuriating, although she takes care of him in other ways, and Gulley is so much his own person that it may be hard for Coker to find a way in.
As wonderful as Guinness is, his was not the best performance of an artist that year. That honor goes to Gérard Philipe as Modigliani in Jacques Becker’s Montparnasse 19 (1958).
This entry was posted on November 19, 2009 at 11:11 pm and is filed under Informal Capsule Film Comments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.