Mr. Turner (2014)

Review: written Jul 2015

Arresting beauty amidst down to earth mundaneness of life

This is a beautiful movie – not glossily beautiful in a Hollywood sense, but perfectly designed, perfectly formed and like Turner’s paintings it is not so much easy on the eye as having beauty which arrests the senses, alongside more prosaic reality which grounds the senses. Even the very opening scene could be one of Turner’s pictures, such is the effect of the cinematography and design.

The ace in the hole here is Timothy Spall, who delivers a performance that is completely lacking in self consciousness. He portrays a man of eccentricity – noisy, grunting, even cruel when it comes to his daughters, and as far removed from an elegant gentleman as possible, and yet at the same time a man of feelings, capable of sensitivity, and above all an artist who has a unique view on colour and on what paintings and art should actually convey. Curmudgeonly would be kind, but his genius also shines through. Spall isn’t the only one who excels though. There isn’t a weak member of the cast, and the production design and cinematography are superb – we believe both the reality of the period down to the smallest detail, and at the same time revel in the occasional moment of profound beauty as Turner is inspired. The language is of its time – which, while challenging on the ear (I’ll admit to rewatching some scenes with subtitles) was educational and had a ring of authenticity.

All that aside, the movie seems rather too languid for its own good. Two and a half hours seems more than I was prepared to enjoy in Mr Turner’s company. And though his artwork is fascinating, his life turns out to be less so. The link between significant events in his life and the impact it had on his work are not fully explored, and the movie feels more like a mood piece than an exploration of a man’s life. This story in anyone else’s hands would probably have been a turn off, but with Spall’s performance and the cinematography and sheer verité of the scenes, it is really worth watching. I didn’t feel enamoured as the movie came to a close, but it has lingered with me, in a good and thoughtful way. Turner’s work wasn’t appreciated at the time, when artists were supposed to paint things ‘the way they’re supposed to be’, but it’s impressionistic and less obvious nature exploring inner consciousness rather than outer form became more appreciated as time went on. I feel Mike Leigh’s film has had precisely the same effect on me.