Unter dem Vulkan

It's November 1, 1938 in Cuernavaca, Mexico, The Day of the Dead. Former British consul Geoffrey Firmin (Albert Finney) is drunk walking the streets in a tux with no socks. He is despondent over his divorce from Yvonne (Jacqueline Bisset). She and his half-brother Hugh (Anthony Andrews) arrive to help him recover his senses.

Albert Finney delivers a fascinating performance. Of all the characters, I am most uncertain about is Yvonne. I think it's more compelling for his ex-wife to be an object of faraway longing. She is too nice anyways. Bisset is gorgeous. She is too perfect. She should be a source of conflict instead. Overall, Finney's compelling performance drives this train. Director John Huston knows how to draw it out of his great actors.

This is one of those films that I wanted to see because of the rave reviews I had read about a particular performance, rather than for the quality of the film which was generally described as mediocre at best.

Sometimes its just as interesting to see one aspect of a film (particularly a single performance) standing head and shoulders above anything else.

I was led to believe 'Under the Volcano' was such a film especially after the Halliwell Film Guide (easily the best movie guide) described it as a 'drunken monologue' which was 'fascinating as a tour de force'.

So I expected this to be an average film that focussed almost entirely on and was finally saved by a remarkable performance (by Albert Finney) in the lead role.

The fact that it wasn't had nothing really to do with Finney's performance, the character he plays simply does not allow him to give the sort of performance that I had read about.

His portrayal of a permanently tipsy retired British consul (Geoffrey Firmin) drinking himself to death was fine. However the structure of the film was totally different from how it had been described, there was not a single monologue in the film and it was never the sort of apocalyptic journey into a man's tortured mind that I had hoped would fully test an actor of Finney's calibre.

Instead we see Firmin joined by his half brother and wife (played by Anthony Andrews and Jacqueline Bisset respectively) as they go for a walk and have a journey on a bus.

That is basically the entire film, Firmin's character is surprisingly serene compared with what I was expecting (no rage or acting fireworks at all) whilst Andrews and Bisset play the sort of dotty, stereotypically English twits that wouldn't look out of place in 'Four Weddings and a Funeral'.

The fact that the two characters are former lovers is supposed to add tension to the proceedings but it really doesn't.

Although the role never allows Finney to be brilliant, his skill and assurance is in stark contrast to his two co-stars who look awkward in comparison and their limitations are all too obvious alongside a far more talented performer.

So this dull and rather pointless film plods along towards its supposedly tragic but unintentionally risible conclusion which rather than providing shocking drama delivers slapstick comedy akin to Laurel and Hardy.

Why John Huston chose to make this is a mystery, this type of film is destined to fail.

This is one of those movies that is always in the discount pile, "Any Rental--99cents'. You find it at garage sales and the like, although I never know why. Perhaps it's the atrocious artwork. Seems a lot of video store patrons base their entire rental decisions on the cover art-I've never heard so many uninformed and ludicrous remarks as have been made in the `User Comments' column for the movie `What Happened Was'-a very smart adult drama. Seems the provocative pose of star Karen Sillas on the cover suggested some sort of couples-therapy Skinamax special. Ooh the disappointment of it all.

Anyway, Under the Volcano is also a very smart adult drama. To begin with, Albert Finney's Oscar nominated performance (he did garner an LA Film Critics award), is superb (1985 was the year Amadeus swept). As the terminally alcoholic Geoffrey Fermin, Finney plays quite a different sort of beast than those played famously by Ray Milland (Lost Weekend), Jack Lemmon (Days of Wine and Roses), and Nick Cage (Leaving Las Vegas).

Fermin is adrift in his alcoholism-an educated man, an English Consul, no less, whose losing battle with booze has cost him his job (Consul to Mexico), and his wife. He is at that stage when the bottle is his last and only compadre as it may. He has succumbed to it, long before this drama begins. His resignation is complete, any pretense of normalcy is only a whisper. He is waiting for it to take his life.

Under John Huston's direction, Under the Volcano is basically a one-man show. In support, as Fermin's wife Yvonne, Jacqueline Bisset gives for me the strongest performance of her career.

Highly recommend, but don't expect to come away with sunshine on your shoulders.

Under The Volcano was originally a complex novel written by real-life alcoholic Malcolm Lowry. Film director John Huston also had a passing acquaintanceship with the bottle and a sensibility for grasping the dark, mystical side of Mexican culture. This all adds up to potent cinematic symbolic imagery underlining terrific performances from Finney, Bissett and Andrews. 8 stars

This is a fairly forgotten gem from the mid-80s, based on the classic and tragic novel of the same name. The film is also the legendary John Huston's third last movie as a director. Taking place in Mexico during the festival known as the Day of the Dead, the film also works against a backdrop of the early days of WWII, and explores the fragmented love triangle between a former British diplomat (Albert Finney), his estranged wife (Jacqueline Bisset), and his adventurous journalist brother (Anthony Andrews).

Under the Volcano starts out slowly, following the corpse-like wandering of retired diplomat Geoffrey Firmin as he explores the Day of the Dead and seeks out booze to feed his alcoholism. We're given various clues as to what has left him in such a sodden and rambling state, and we learn that his wife divorced him from abroad. Geoffrey proceeds to drink himself into oblivion, and into the fray enters his erstwhile wife Yvonne... testing the waters as it were for a possible reconciliation. Geoffrey's brother Hugh, recently returned from the Spanish civil war, is at a loss as to where he fits in with regards to their relationship, and also in regards to the world itself. The three decide to take a day trip out of town, with Yvonne and Hugh unsure of where Geoffrey's health and state of mind will literally lead them.

This film is a rambling, elegaic swansong to suntouched dreams fortified by alcohol. These three people try to outrun their demons and replace their mistakes with hollow new plans - Yvonne hopes to start her life anew, but Geoffrey's disgracefully drunken state makes him an unpredictable quantity to bank on, especially in regards to whether he can forgive her for the adultery that left him in such a state. Geoffrey tells a story at one point about a colonial named Blackstone, a man who turned native and disliked the puritans who tried to save him so much that he simply just disappeared into the wilderness. There's obviously something about this story that appeals to Geoffrey as he seems to identify with Blackstone so much that he later tells strangers that it's his name, and you can't help but feel that this is the only solution to the problems at hand that he can truly grasp at. Bubbling underneath the surface of the film all this time is a slowly building sense of doom highlighted by the coming of WWII, the ominous woodwind score, and the film's title itself. Geoffrey alludes to a horrific war story at several points, drawing comparisons with the 30s horror film Mad Love (referred to here as The Hands of Orlac) with his belief that "Some things you can't apologise for", and this quote echoes throughout the film whenever the main characters are forced to come face to face with each other's mistakes.

This won't be a film to everyone's taste, it starts out as something approaching a travel-drama but kind of mutates into outright tragedy in it's second half. At the core of Under the Volcano is a staggering performance from Albert Finney as the drunken diplomat. Finney was more than rightfully nominated for a Best Actor Academy Award for his realistic depiction of the life of a hopeless drunk... full of whimsy and cheer and rambling anecdotes, treading a fine line between absolute tankdom and lucidness, and tapping into all kinds of ambivalent emotions that would be far too challenging to a less complex and accomplished actor. Too often the drunk in film is shown as either a figure for comedy, fear or tragedy, but never are they shown as realistically as Finney's characterisation here. I could see shades of every pathetic and hilarious drunk I've ever met at a pub or a party in Under the Volcano's Geoffrey Firmin, and the film makes no compromises whatsoever in showing this for what it is. One of the best performances in film.

HIGHLIGHTS: There's nothing quite like a sinister Mexican dwarf grinning while he makes obscene gestures with his hands. I found this bit to be quite offputting and creepy.