Other Doctor Lives: Benediction (2021, PG-13)

I was first introduced to Siegfried Sassoon and his poetry through a film called Regeneration (though it was retitled Behind the Lines in the U.S.) It depicts a hospital for English soldiers dealing with shellshock during WWI, and Sassoon is a major character, along with fellow war poet Wilfred Owen. This film offers another look at that chapter of Sassoon’s life, but it’s only part of a larger portrait.

We explore the life of Siegfried Sassoon. Mostly, the film follows him as a young man—experiencing the horrors of WWI, spending time in a mental hospital, growing in both artistry and renown as a poet, pursuing several romances over a number of years. An ambitious picture of a complicated man, we see Siegfried’s agitations, his triumphs, and his heartbreak.

In recent years, I feel like I’ve seen more biopics that go all in on portraying one particular significant event from a historical figure’s life, so much so that I’ve gotten a little out of practice at watching a story that examines a much larger cross-section. Benediction at times feels a bit directionless as it just covers so much: the war, the hospital, poetry, high society, sex, romance, fame, and so on. Siegfried’s quietly eloquent sessions in the hospital with Dr. Rivers can feel like they’re taking place in a different film than the scenes of him sniping with a lover who’s growing tired of him. Obviously, Siegfried Sassoon was all of the things he’s depicted as in the film, but the film doesn’t always make the various parts of him feel like a cohesive whole, which can hurt its throughline.

However, there is a lot about the film that I find really lovely. I like how Siegfried’s poetry (along with a bit of Wilfred Owen’s) is woven into the movie, and especially in the early passages, Siegfried’s remarks and observations are so insightful that it makes me wonder how much of his dialogue is directly lifted from his writings. I especially love him condemning the British government for “prolonging the war by failing to state their conditions for peace.” Another marvelous line is, “Bravery is only cowardice in extremis.”

In depicting his love life, I appreciate that the film doesn’t spend much time dwelling on homophobia or hiding relationships from the world—most of Siegfried’s relationship issues stem from his boyfriends’ faults colliding with his, not the mere fact of being gay in the first half of the 20^th century. When heteronormativity does rear its end, the call is coming more from inside the house than without, as members of Siegfried’s circle succumb to prescriptive marriages to women because that’s just the sort of thing people do.

I’m not super familiar with Jack Lowden, who plays Siegfried, though IMDb tells me I’ve seen him in a few other projects, all different period pieces (he must have a face for a different era, I guess.) Even though the film itself doesn’t always feel consistent, his performance grounds it as much as possible. His Siegfried has a sort of numbness to him, feeling remote and a little snobbish, yet you can still feel his warmth. His emotions run deep, even if he can’t always express them. Another newer face for me is Matthew Tennyson, who’s sweetly sad as Wilfred Owen. The film also features Simon Russell Beale, Jeremy Irvine, and Tom Blyth. Gemma Jones and Anton Lesser play older versions of two important characters in the film, which is also where Peter Capaldi comes in.

Capaldi plays the older Siegfried, at a point in his life when what little happiness he once had seems to have been wrung away. Even though the younger Siegfried can be numb and somewhat repressed, the older version feels outright cold in comparison. You can feel the resentment of old grudges radiating off of him—some of what happens during his younger years help to explain what becomes of him, but it’s still sad to see.

I’m not quite sure about this performance. Obviously, Capaldi is no stranger to playing angry characters, but the Twelfth Doctor has a lot more “twinkle” than might appear at first, and even Malcolm Tucker has a sort of buoyancy when things are going his way. The older Siegfried, in contrast, feels almost dried up, with little life left in him. What’s more, he doesn’t fundamentally feel like the younger version. That’s the most crucial part of any story that involves two different actors playing the same character at different ages, and I don’t know that I can say Capaldi sticks the landing here.

Accent Watch

A very repressed, clipped-sounding RP.

Recommend?

In General – Maybe. It’s a film about an interesting man, and it has scenes of genuine melancholy beauty. (As is often the case with biopics, I don’t know enough to tell you whether or not the story is told with much accuracy.)

Peter Capaldi – I don’t know. While this performance can be affecting, it’s not a favorite of mine. Don’t write it off, but I wouldn’t necessarily prioritize it.

Warnings

Violence, sexual content, drinking/smoking, language, and strong thematic elements. 

Y tu Luna también: Before Night Falls (2000)

I first saw this movie years ago, during part of a Johnny Depp hyperfixation (ugh.) I’m pretty sure I recorded it off IFC, and don’t ask me how I managed to watch an arty biopic about a gay Cuban poet while I was still living at home—my didn’t-yet-know-I-was-asexual self was not prepared to see Javier Bardem snorkeling at a beach where men’s swimwear was optional.

In the midst of the Cuban Revolution, Reinaldo Arenas finds ways to come into his own as a poet and novelist. He pursues sexual, artistic, and romantic freedom in a society that tells him those things are counter-revolutionary, and his ideas and his love life both make him a target. He does as much as he’s able in Cuba and then begins looking for a way to escape the repressive regime.

In more recent years, I’ve enjoyed the growing popularity in biopics that take a narrower focus, examining one particular period or event from the subject’s life in detail. This film takes more of a classic biopic approach, covering Arenas’ life pretty much from birth to death. We meet Reinaldo’s mother, a formative figure in his life, and watch him develop his passion for words and realize his love for pretty boys. We see him run away in the hopes of joining the revolution that will one day persecute him. Meanwhile, in adulthood, we follow Reinaldo through studies, relationships, books, patrons, imprisonment, and escape plans, first finding his voice as a writer and then fighting to keep it from being silenced.

Despite its more traditional setup as a biopic, the film also prioritizes its artistic expression. Director/co-writer Julian Schnabel employs naturalistic camera work that takes you into the tumultuous middle of the Cuban Revolution, while other sections of the movie are filmed with a dreamlike beauty as the soundtrack washes over you. It’s mostly performed in English with the odd line or extended voiceover in Spanish. Passages from Arenas’ works are read aloud over the action.

Javier Bardem plays Reinaldo, looking especially young and fresh-faced during Reinaldo’s student days early in the film (Bardem’s role here is part of the longstanding practice of casting actors from Spain to play Latino characters, and this isn’t the only time we’ve seen this from Bardem.) In his hands, the writer starts out as something of a soft boi: a little shy, a little eager, a little polite, and a little romantic. But as the revolution starts to criminalize writers and gay men in equal measure, Reinaldo is forced to grow harder to continue being himself in the face of a government that hates him for it. As one of his mentors tells him, “People that make art are dangerous to any dictatorship. They create beauty, and beauty is the enemy. Artists are escapists. Artists are counter-revolutionary.”

I’m not too familiar with the rest of the cast, but unfortunately, two actors who make small cameos are Sean Penn and Johnny Depp. It looks like Penn might actually be wearing brownface, which is especially cringey, and while I no longer would’ve wanted to watch Depp anyway, it’s not great to see him pop up as, not just one, but two Cuban characters.

Watching this film again, I realized it must’ve technically been the first movie that I saw Diego Luna in, though I didn’t know it at the time. I’d been misremembering when the film was made, maybe because I didn’t see it until 2003 or 2004, so I was a little stunned when Luna appeared onscreen and I realized how young he was. This was pre-Y tu mamá también!

Luna has a very small role, appearing briefly as Carlos, a childhood friend of Reinaldo’s. The two of them make plans to run away and join the rebels together, Carlos urges Reinaldo to shoot his shot with a beautiful woman, apparently not knowing that Reinaldo would rather daydream about him. However, their paths quickly diverge, and we don’t see Carlos again.

Recommend?

In General – I might, if you’re prepared for some heavy content. Even though all three films are pretty distinct from one another, I’m reminded a little of both Christopher and His Kind and Benediction, other films about queer writers that combine turbulent love lives with war and strife.

Diego Luna – Not necessarily. Similar to Frida, Luna is only in the film for a few minutes, and his role isn’t a demanding one.

Warnings

Strong thematic elements, violence (including torture,) sexual content, language (including homophobic slurs,) disturbing images, drinking/smoking/drug use, non-Latino actors playing Latino characters, and involvement of an alleged domestic abuser.

Maestro (R, 2023)

I actually saw Best Picture nominee #8 back in January, before the nominations even came out—it was on plenty of prediction lists, and I wanted to get a head start. I did the same with Rustin and May December. But while I reviewed those other films not long after I saw them, I kept putting off this one in favor of the latest movies I’d watched. As you can probably guess, that tracks with how I’d rate Maestro compared to some of the other movies on this list.

Biopic of Leonard Bernstein, following the course of his career and family life across more than three decades. We watch Lenny as he conducts and composes, his work taking him from New York to Hollywood, and we ride the ups and downs of his marriage to actress Felicia Montealegre.

I’ve seen four biopics this Oscar season. Rustin and Nyad take the approach of focusing mainly on a very specific period of the subject’s life. Oppenheimer uses its nonlinear structure to have pivotal events earlier and later in the subject’s life resonate with one another. Maestro is probably the “straightest” biopic of the four—not that Bernstein was straight!—in that it covers a huge swathe of the subject’s life in a relatively straightforward manner, following events as they happen.

As such, we get very familiar beats here. Lenny has an early brush with success. He meets Felicia at a party. He composes Broadway scores, then film scores. He and Felicia have a happy marriage and an intimate understanding of one another. He conducts for prestigious orchestras. He has a number of indiscreet affairs, fracturing his family. And so on.

I’ll be honest, not much of it grabbed me. Probably the most interesting part of the film is the relationship between Lenny and Felicia. In a way, the film reminds me a bit of Bohemian Rhapsody—it definitely doesn’t straightwash Lenny, but it does downplay the importance of his queerness by focusing so much on his relationship with a woman. All that said, however, I think the film does a good job of showing Lenny and Felicia as something akin to platonic soulmates. Even though they both know their marriage isn’t built on sexual or romantic attraction, they still mean a great deal to each other. And as Lenny’s careless actions put a strain on the outward parts of their relationship, there’s still something between them that can’t be entirely broken.

I get that this was a certified Bradley Cooper production, and he pulls quadruple duty as the director, co-writer, star, and producer—in addition to the Best Picture nod, he’s also nominated for his acting and original screenplay. For me, while his acting is good, I didn’t find it remarkable, not worth the controversy he courted for donning that prosthetic nose. Carey Mulligan is also nominated, for Leading Actress, for her performance as Felicia. There have been a lot of actresses over the years who’ve been nominated for Playing the Wife of the Guy the Movie is About, and in Mulligan’s case, I think Felicia warrants the leading category over supporting. While the film is definitely about Lenny, Felicia gets enough of her own focus and perspective to be worth Mulligan’s time. The film also features appearances from Matt Bomer, Sarah Silverman, and Maya Hawke.

Warnings

Language, drinking/smoking/brief drug use, sexual references, and thematic elements.