Lisztomania' and better films

Press, 9 August 1976, Page 6

Lisztomania' and better films

Lisztomania,” directed by Ken Russell, Westend Theatre; running time of : feature: 8.40-10.21. “Middle of the World,” directed by Alain Tanner; • Christchurch Film Festival, Avenue Theatre. “Stavisky,” directed by j Alain Resnais; Christ- j church Film Festival, Ave- ( nue Theatre. t “The Duchess and the 1 Dirtwater Fox,” directed < by Melvin Frank, Cine- s rama Theatre; running time t of feature: 8.40-10.20. One of the most remark- J able things about the Fifth ( Christchurch International < Film Festival running until , this Thursday at the Avenue ] is that it does not include a f single British film. But look- ( ing at Russell’s much- j trumpeted “Lisztomania” one , can fairly easily guess why. (

I have never, until now, been in sympathy with Rus--,ell’s numerous detractors: I greatly enjoyed “The Devils,” and even found some things 'mainly musical) to admire in

“Tommy.” The fact that the

most striking effects in “Tommy” were unashamedly olagiarised from a standard educational film on schizophrenia only slightly diminished their impact, but “Lisztomania” is simply a shape-

less mess of sensationalia without any good music, story, photography, or acting to redeem it. That Liszt is a musical nonstarter compared with The Who is only the start this film’s troubles. The main story is sandwiched between two very unoriginal observations: that nineteenthcentury musicians also had their groupies, and that Hitler liked Wagner. If you find either of these ideas sidesplittingly entertaining, you may also like what comes between: a parade of nonacting featuring Roger Daltrey as Madame Tussaud’s conception of Liszt, Ringo Starr as the Pope, and a former Playboy also-ran as the leading lady. When you have finished laughing at that, you can while away the remaining 100 minutes admiring the decor: mainly keyboard effects and colossal plaster

replicas of all the more dynamic bodily orifices, which draw a rather unsubtle contrast with Mr Daltrey’s somewhat less than colossally dynamic physique. Russell’s basic mistake

was in attempting a portrait of decadence through the use jf decadent techniques, and the result is just a selfindulgent exercise in crassness. He should, of course, have learned better in work-

ing from Lawrence and Whiting, but for an up-to-date example of how to make an elegant, witty, urbane, sexy, artistic, and satirical film out of Central European material, he could scarcely find a better model than “Middle of the World.” Here is a perfect example of comedy without belly-laughs, art without pretentiousness, sature without contempt. Olympia Carlisi has been much praised for her part in this Franco-Swiss production, but the other lead actor impressed me more: Philippe Leotard extracts a surprising degree of sympathy from the boorish, goofy plutocrat-turned-politician.

The charm of “Middle of the World” comes largely from the sheer simplicity of the story — a love affair which cannot work — and its eventual failure is brilliantly anticipated by snatches of political activity and of the hectically-rotating and superbly photographed world of nature. Alain Resnais’s new film is also distinguished by some magnificent sequences of natural subjects, but is j limited by its tentative character creation: the outer storv deals with the Peter Weiss theme of Trotsky in Exile and is easy enough to

grasp, but the inner narrative, about the con-man of the title, is initially rather obscure to a non-French audience. Part of the trouble was that the interval came a reel too early, but a lot of the subtleties — like the “Coriolanus” parallels — were for me not immediate enough on just a first viewing.

For those more interested in “the flicks” than in “Film,” there is a hysterically stupid movie still screening at the Cinerama. Compared with “Lisztomania,” “The Duchess and the Dirtwater Fox” is So refreshingly unpretentious, so brilliantly banal, that it comes as a very powerful vindication of the commercial cinema. The central story gives us Goldie Hawn and George Segal as the title characters, working their way from San Francisco to Salt Lake City in about 1882 with the proceeds of the five heavies’ bank robbery; the sheer idiocy of the whole venture will keep you laughing right through, but the best performance unquestionably comes from the hero’s horse. Blackjack, which can actually do the splits — four ways — while Dirtwater tells it, “You’re making a fool of yourself.” —Howard McNaughton