Dir. Stephen Frears, 1987, (reissued 2007), UK, 110 mins
Cast: Gary Oldman, Alfred Molina, Vanessa Redgrave, Julie Walters, Frances Barber, Wallace Shawn. Lindsay Duncan
Review by Joyce Dundas
Brilliantly acted and directed biopic concentrating on the life and bloody death of playwriter Joe Orton (Oldman), in particular his mutually dependent and highly destructive relationship with actor and writer Kenneth Halliwell (Molina). Halliwell was responsible for nurturing and supporting Orton in his early career, but found himself sidelined as the cocky writer became more successful than Halliwell could ever be.
The film follows the claustrophobic existence of these two frustrated authors from their early friendship as RADA to lovers to the two losers who used their talent to alter library book jackets into amusing and lewd blurbs They are sent to prison for their smart and extremely funny graffiti when a homophobic librarian, famously whipping posts for Bennett, reports them.
The cast and crew of the film reads like a who's who of '80s Brit independent filmmaking. Frears was reeling from the success of My Beautiful Laundrette, Alan Bennett wrote the screenplay based on John Lahr's book, Julie Walters plays Orton's mum Elsie, which she has does with her usual genius, and Barber is the twinset and pearls, but wise, sister. And of course, Oldman and Molina in career-making roles.
Interesting to see this film reissued to an audience that will have to stretch its imagination to a time when homosexual sex was illegal and high-risk encounters in public toilets were the only way to satisfaction for a lot of gays. A modern audience will also catch some great humour which even when the film was released would not have had the same resonance. “Homosexuals, in Islington,” exclaims the librarian's assistant.
While Orton revels in the banned excitement of the anonymous encounters Halliwell is way out of his depth. He can't stop Joe's liaisons with strangers, but can't join him either. As Orton becomes more successful as a writer and more anarchic in his behaviour, Halliwell becomes the sullen, depressed, spurned lover. His all consuming jealousy leads to the shocking conclusion.
As you would expect from Bennett the dialogue is genius. When Orton spurns Halliwell's advances with a dismissive, “Have a wank”, he screams back, “Have a wank, I need three days notice to have a wank.” Or the first time they see the Islington hovel that will eventually see their violent end, Halliwell asks, “What is that smell?” to which the landlady replies, “It's air freshener, the carpet came from Reading.” Surreal reality, Bennett style.
Beaten to death just six months after his second play Loot was a huge smash hit and just having worked on a screenplay for The Beatles, Orton became a legend not only for his writing talent but also for his insatiable cottaging and his refusal to hide his sexuality. Oldman is at his best as the egotistical, but extremely, talented icon.
Near the beginning of the film we see what is supposed to be the exterior of their home. The actual building shown looks a lot like one in Royal College Street, Camden Town where another famous, doomed homosexual couple lived, Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud, both of them brilliant, volatile and self-destructive. When Orton takes the bus late at night he takes the No 24, the terminus of that route: Hampstead Heath. These are great touches which beautifully illustrate the filmmakers' attention to detail and passion for Orton's story. Classic British cinema at its edgy best.
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