JMW Turner, “The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons” (1834 or 1835), approx. 36 x 48 inches.
Because J.M.W. Turner is one of my favorite painters, I was eager to see this biopic (trailer). The problem with biographies—unless they stray into fictional exaggeration—is they are stuck with the life the subject actually led. And Turner (played by Timothy Spall) led an undramatic one, on the surface. His struggles took place internally, as revealed in his art, which was both unconventional and prodigious—nearly 20,000 individual oil paintings, watercolors, and drawings. Such intense preoccupation allowed the development of his talent, true, and fostered his eccentricities and a certain selfishness, also true, but left little material for the dramatist intent on exposing juicy interpersonal relationships to delve into.
By the time the movie begins, Turner is already a successful painter and a man of independent means, so we miss the likely fiery relationship with the shrill woman (Ruth Sheen) who is the mother of his two grown daughters. “Still doing those ridiculous sea paintings?” she asks, when she comes hectoring him for money. The principal conflict we see is between him and the early Victorian painters who dominated the Royal Academy of Arts. Turner’s paintings, which can seem abstract and modern today, were so far ahead of their time (remember, he died more than 160 years ago), the traditionalists had no language for them.
Still, his works were not completely unappreciated. Some of the most amusing parts of the film are the scenes with the other artists and critics and with Turner’s most influential advocate, John Ruskin (Joshua McGuire), later the prominent British art critic and social commentator. At the time of the film, he was in his mid-20s, struggling to appear erudite and pausing between each word as if to be sure to bring forth exactly the right one, yet gleeful in being a contrarian.
Mike Leigh cast actors he’s used before—not just Timothy Spall, grunting and growling, but also Marion Bailey, Lesley Manville, Martin Savage, and others. We’ve seen them in previous Leigh movies—from Vera Drake to Topsy-Turvy—and they create a believable ensemble around the principal. Deserving special praise is Dorothy Atkinson as Turner’s adoring and mostly ignored maid-of-all-(and I do mean all)-work, increasingly disfigured by some rashy skin condition.
If the film is a few brushstrokes short on typical interpersonal drama, see it for the beauty of the cinematography. Scene after scene recreates the diffuse and misty light that Turner—“the painter of light”—sought out, when the whole sky partakes of the brilliance of the sun. Rotten Tomatoes critics rating: 97%; audiences 60%.
Well said, Miz Vicki. I really need to see it again, having read both the reviews I posted today. I really enjoyed the one about the historical accuracy of the settings and Mr. T’s deteriorating health. The maid-of-all-work evidently was afflicted with psoriasis, which took many hours to create each day in the makeup department, and more to remove! As I sat and watched the credits, I finally began to soak up the score. The array of instruments used is quite amazing, and I believe the results are one of the most outstanding aspects of the film.
I thought the reviewer’s comment that Leigh was trying to recreate the world (in pictures) as Turner saw it was quite apt. Timothy Spall has a face made for Dickens, don’t you think?!
Vicki: I am dazzled by your insightful remarks and clever wordplay. Reading the review may be more fun than seeing the movie!
While some of my museum docent friends wanted more art and less angst, I agree with your review of the film, Vicki. The cinematography and costumes were outstanding as were the actors.
It’s sad that, when he donated his artworks to the British government, he wanted them to stay and be displayed together, and he left a generous bequest to enable that to happen, but it has not. Before too much time went by, they were scattered and sold off. “The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons,” which illustrates this review is actually the property of the Cleveland Museum of Art. A second painting of the same catastrophe is owned by the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This makes it easier for us folks stateside to see bits of his work, but it is not what he intended.