As my loyal
readers know, I have a hard time grinning and bearing the sorry succession of
modern historical epics, inculcated with rampant historical accuracy and
blatant revisionism that destroys both feel and form. And yet every once in a
while, I am pleasantly surprised to watch a movie that captures an era in an
artful and appropriate way. Such is the case with Barry Lyndon. While it may not be my favorite story-line in the
world, for a period piece, it stands out as being comfortable in its own skin,
with swagger, elegance, and wry British humor to boot. Also, looking for
spiritual insights, I would say that this film should not be seen as light
entertainment about a naughty boy who overplays his hand, but as an analysis of
the mixed capacity of the human nature and dangers of seeking greatness before
goodness.
Ryan O’Neal stars
as Redmond Barry, a young middle-class Irishman in the mid-18th
century whose father was killed in a duel. He is raised by his devoted mother,
who struggles monetarily and hopes that her son will climb socially and bring
glory to the family name. However, when Barry falls in love with his
flirtatious cousin, Nora Brady, he is almost undone by her wiles after she
throws herself at Captain John Quinn, a wealthy British army officer who comes
to Ireland on a recruiting mission upon the outbreak of the Seven Years’ War.
Letting his fiery temper get the best of him, Barry throws a wine glass at his
rival, and a duel is arranged between the two. When Barry hits his target, he
thinks he has killed the man and must flee for fear of repercussions.
But a twist of
fate in the form a road-side robbery causes Barry to take a job as a redcoat in
the British army. Taken under the wing of his friend, Captain Grogan, and able
to win the respect of his comrades through his cheeky disposition and fighting
prowess, it seems that he might have found his calling. But when Grogan is
killed in their first skirmish in Germany, Barry begins to lose his taste for
battle. The burning and pillaging only add to his distaste, and soon he
determines to desert. He does so by commandeering one of his officer’s uniforms
and claiming that he is carrying dispatches to the Prussian allies. But he is
found out by the clever Prussian Captain Potzdorf, and inducted into the even
more brutal Prussian service.
Barry takes a
downward turn in his personal behavior, becoming a cynical survivor in what he
sees as the game of life. However, he does save the life of Potzdorf after he
is trapped in a burning building, and as a result is taken out of the army and
put into the secret service to observe a certain Chevalier du Balibari, a noted
gambler and gourmet whose allegiance is in question. When Barry discovers that
the Chevalier is a fellow Irishmen, he becomes a double-spy for him and
ultimately escapes the country as his partner in the art of the gaming table.
His skill with the sword is also useful to gently persuade reluctant gentleman
to pay the piper after losing at cards!
In Belgium, Barry
takes fate into his own hands in an effort to earn himself a title, and
launches an affair with the beautiful Lady Honoria Lyndon, an English
aristocrat on holiday with her aged husband, Sir Charles Lyndon, and their
young son. After her husband’s death (stress-induced, after Barry taunts him),
the two are married, and Barry believes that his way upward is secured. But
Honoria’s son, now styled as Young Lord Bullingdon, is not duped by the
swaggering Irish rogue and refuses to acknowledge him as his new father.
Honoria also becomes disillusioned with her new husband over time, as his
grasping after personal aggrandizement and multiple affairs drain the family
wealth and leave her out in the cold. But Barry and his wife do have a son who
they name Bryan Patrick, and Barry proved to be a tender and loving father, as
much as he had been a neglectful husband.
As he grows
older, Lord Bullingdon tries his best to bare up with Barry’s disgraceful
flaunting of the family name (he adopts the style Lyndon, a slap-in-the-face to
his dead rival) and squandering of his inheritance. Bullingdon also tries to be
reasonably civil with his pampered little half-brother, but eventually he can
stand the circumstances no longer, and after a major confrontation with Barry in
the parlor, leaves his home in self-imposed exile. However, after little Bryan
is killed by a horse, Barry rapidly deteriorates in grief, and Lady Honoria is
kept a virtual prisoner in her own home, Young Bullingdon realizes that it is
his duty to rescue his mother and reclaim his inheritance.
Artistically and
cinematically, this film is breath-takingly beautiful. Stanley Kubrick, the
director of Barry Lyndon, was
inspired by the works of the 18th century painters, and determined
to shoot the film using natural lighting techniques in both exterior and
interior scenes. The result is a lush panorama of sequences that do look like
images from an art gallery. The beautiful outdoor sky-shots look like
water-colors. Costuming and sets are exquisite and detailed. From the military
marches, to the country dances, to the gaming binges of the rich and famous,
everything is richly portrayed. The gorgeous outfits sometimes made me want to
squeal with delight. Those beautiful red coats and sparkling gorgets…ah!! Not
to mention all the satin and silks of the dandies and their ladies…and the
wigs!!! Sheer bliss!! The music too was perfectly period, including the almost
continuous underpinning of a Baroque score and the rousing versions of “British
Grenadiers” and “Lilli Burlero” and the haunting ballad “Women of Ireland”
played by The Chieftains.
But beyond this,
what I really admired about the film was able to capture the right feel of its
chosen time period. All too often, movies will have all the visual splendors
but are unable to penetrate the historical barrier, as it were. Instead of trying
to make the viewer feel as if they are traveling back it time, the atmosphere
is cluttered with modern presuppositions and prejudices foisted onto the past
by liberalistic emissaries in costume, some depicting over-the-top villains who
represent the evils of the age and others portraying forward-thinking,
far-sighted wonder-bunnies for heroes and heroines. The whole thing becomes a
hokey would-be morality play glorifying the modern world view. Not so with the
slyly satirical yet admirably even-handed Barry
Lyndon.
I love the way
that the style and ceremony of the age was accurately depicted. These little
details are often lacking in period pieces, or otherwise made a total mockery
of. But the characters in this movie seem quite comfortable with all of it.
They easily address each other easily as “Sir” and “Madam”, and there is a
certain code of civility employed even in the most dangerous activities such as
fist-fighting and dueling. Fair play is vitally important in these, as are the
concepts of courage and personal honor. While some of these manifestations may
seem strange to our modern sensibilities, and the dour British narrator takes
light pricks at the inconsistencies of the era, one cannot help but admire such
a code of behavior when accurately portrayed, even if not everyone followed it
and some took it beyond the pale.
The individual
character developments challenge stereotypes. Each one of the characters unique
and has both good and bad traits, and there are no over-the-top baddies or
hair-slicked-back-heroes to be found. Redmond Barry, of course, is the epitome
of this complexity in the characterization. He starts out as warm-blooded young
romantic, and is in some ways lovably roguish and daring as he makes his own
fortune in a world where birth and breeding can make or break a man. And yet we
find ourselves increasingly disillusioned by his methods, going from a deserter
to a double-spy to a gambler to a romancer of nobleman’s wife.
Ultimately, his
house proves to be built on sand, and his obsession with obtaining a title and
becoming a member of the peerage drains his wife’s fortune. Furthermore, his
own cynicism towards life that enabled him to survive and thrive now almost
prevents him from being able to love, and he has multiple affairs and
flirtations for the fleeting pleasure of it. And yet Barry still has some
goodness left in him, which is brought out in his tender devotion to his young,
mischievous son Brian. But it seems almost as if his degeneration of character
has cast of a curse over his family, because the young Brian dies disobeying
his father and mounting a horse alone.
I always wondered
why the front cover of Barry Lyndon
portrayed a shadowy figure pointing his pistol to the ground. Now I understand
that it was alluding to the moment of his partial redemption. When his
son-in-law, Lord Bullingdon, returns to rescue his mother and reclaim his
rightful inheritance, the young man accidentally sets off his pistol before
taking aim. According the strict rules of the duel, he has used up his shot,
and must stand and receive the shot from his opponent. Bullingdon is horrified,
and throws up in the corner before recovering himself and honorably standing to
await the shot. That sparkle of decency that we always knew Barry had shows
itself again, and he calmly fires his pistol into the ground. This allows
Bullingdon to choose either end the contest, or to take another shot. He takes
another shot, and hits Barry in the leg, which is later amputated ending his
reign as a Lyndon. (Notice that dueling is the main motif of this film, which
opens with Barry’s father being killed in a duel, hinges on his duel with John
Quinn, and finishes with his duel with Bullingdon.)
The other
characters, too, are given well-rounded treatment including Captain John Quinn,
Reverend Samuel Rump, and Young Bullingdon. Quinn may be pompous, but he’s not
evil, a fact which I have ceased to take for granted after watching too many
horrendous epics with redcoat insta-baddies. In fact, he doesn’t really do
anything wrong except fall in love with the same flirtatious female who stole
the heart of Barry! It’s true that he has cash to back him, but Nora was ready
and willing to accept his marriage proposal and the settlement. Barry is
totally out-of-line in throwing the glass at Quinn, which smashes in his face
and leaves a gash on his forehead. In the duel, Quinn is willing to let the
whole thing go if Barry apologizes and goes off to Dublin, but Barry will have
none of it. Unbeknownst to them all, Nora’s family put fake bullets in Barry’s
gun, so his shot merely knocks Quinn out from the impact, but he later comes to
and marries Nora!
Rev. Rump is an
intriguing character as well. While at first I thought they might characterize
him as a pasty-faced paid hireling, using his religious robes to obtain a juicy
income, he actually turns out to be a figure of moral strength and integrity.
While he is the one chosen to marry Barry and Honoria, and initially encourages
Young Bullingdon to except his “new father”, he later comes to realize that
Lady Honoria’s Irish lover-turned-husband is a cad and wastrel. Rump is one of
her sole supports during the years of neglect, and serves as the tutor of both
her sons. When Bryan is tragically killed, he is the one who performs the
funeral service, and again serves as a major support for Lady Lyndon, who is on
the border of a nervous break-down and locked in her own house.
When Barry’s
mother tries to fire Rump, he calmly states that he’d be happy to go without
the pay, but he cannot leave Lady Lyndon in her present condition. He then
stands up to her, and says they have no right to hold her prisoner in order to
hide Barry’s misappropriation of funds and alcoholism. When he is forced to go
anyway, Lady Lyndon tries to commit suicide. Rump and another loyal servant are
then instrumental in bringing news to Young Bullingdon of the deteriorating
situation, and encourage him to launch his rescue attempt. I have to admit that
there were times I thought Rev. Rump might have had feelings for Lady Lyndon,
and could not help but think that after all the suffering they had gone through
together they would make a good pair. So yeah…can we file for an Anglican annulment
for Barry and Honoria so Samuel and Honoria can get married and start afresh??
Young Bullingdon
is probably my favorite character in the movie. I can’t imagine what I would do
in this kid’s position, but he handles it with a fair amount of dignified
resolve I find quite admirable. I mean, Barry practically kills off his father,
misuses his mother, squanders his inheritance, and usurps the family name only
to disgrace it by his dissolute conduct. When his mother says he should kiss
his “new father” goodbye, he responds boldly “My father was Sir Charles
Lyndon…have you forgotten him, Madam?” (Round of applause from me!) He is
therefore chastised with the whipping stick by Barry, but the fight is on, and
the young nobleman will not be broken.
For most of movie,
he manages to keep his emotions in check in spite of the worsening situation.
Even in his very hottest moments, when he calls out Barry as “an Irish peasant
and ruffian”, there is a certain noble bearing that contrasts with Barry’s
striving for nobility. When Bullingdon finally takes his revenge, it is down out
of necessity, to rescue his mother and estate. While some would accuse him of
hardness for refusing to back down from the duel after Barry spared him, if he
had done so his rescue mission would have been a sorry flop. Still, after he
shoots his step-father in the leg, he does send a message to Barry’s mother
informing her where he is. He also offers him an annuity to live on after his
leg is amputated, providing that he leaves England never to return. The
once-proud Barry has no option but to take the annuity and leave.
Barry
Lyndon is a very British film, complete with dark humor, meandering pace,
and a profound, cut-dry finale. Some people get lulled to sleep or puzzled by
this style, and in some cases I would agree with them. But for this setting, I
think it worked to a tee. It is also very British in the way it characterizes
the Irish as a hot-tempered, somewhat untrustworthy race with charm and charisma
but compromised morals and motives. Nevertheless, there is also a grudging
respect for their indomitable spirit and refusal to be cowed, which is
epitomized by Barry’s declaration to John Quinn (who was offering him a way out
of the duel if he’d leave town), “I’d as soon go to Dublin as to Hell!” The
real question is…are Barry and his Irish family and friends Catholic Celtic-Irish
or Protestant Anglo-Irish? I think it might be the latter since they are
middle-class land-holders capable of joining the military, even though Captain
Grogan is once seen making the sign of the cross. Perhaps they are Catholics
who apostatized under the pressure?
With regards to
morality, this is the story of a
rake’s rise and fall, so scandal is in the air. But for a ‘70s movie, it
doesn’t get too “in the weeds” with regards to Barry’s sexual flings. Most are
merely hinted at, and the worst we see are a few passionate kisses. There are a
couple of scenes with brief flashes of female upper nudity, which can easily be
skipped. There is also a scene indicating that two British officers might be
homosexual, although nothing graphic is actually shown. An important part of
the story does hinge on a “game” played by the promiscuous Nora Brady, who has
Barry reach inside her bodice to pull out a ribbon…only to have John Quinn do
the same a little later on! But that’s her character; she’s not above board.
The guys, of course, shouldn’t be playing the game at all, but their
participation ultimately makes them both pretty foolish looking.
While some people
complained of the stiffness, slow-pace, and odd juxtaposition of satire and
tragedy, one advertisement for the film trumpeted: “Its aching beauty will wipe
you out!” I agree that there is something about Barry Lyndon that does have an aching beauty, and it’s not just the
scenery. The story itself is so very human, and so very sad. By the end of the
movie, Barry is a pathetic creature who sold his soul to get to the top, and
lost everything. But we can’t just relish in his deserved decline, for he
embodies too many of our own warped desires and desperations. He starts out as
a naïve, starry-eyed romantic with hopes of greatness for the future, but the
class system prevents him from ever achieving those goals, unless he plays
crooked. He becomes his own worst enemy in seeing the world through cynical
eyes and using other people as mere prongs on the ladder of success.
And still he is
not all bad. He dearly loves his
small son Bryan, and refuses to kill his arch-enemy step-son coming back to
avenge the insults to his honor. Throughout the film, he also shown as being
emotion and given to tears, especially upon the death of his friend Captain
Grogan, the meeting of a fellow Irishman in Chevalier du Balibari, and the
death of his beloved little boy Brian. It is during these heart-felt moments
when one wants to console and rehabilitate Barry, telling him that there is
still time to patch up the messes he’s made and live a different sort of life.
There can be redemption for him yet, for a person’s identity does depend upon
the titles of the world, but who they really are.
But perhaps the
story of Barry Lyndon must remain unfinished, for there are so many unfinished
stories just like his in which he can make a difference today. Perhaps the
lesson for us here is that we must commit him and all those like him to the
mercy of God, before whom all are equal. This is formalized in the closing
scene of the film where it is written: “It was the reign of King George III
that the aforesaid personages lived and quarreled; good or bad, handsome or
ugly; rich or poor…they are all equal now.” And that, I think, is a very
profound epilogue for this panoramic picture of historical significance.
