Benediction

Benediction.

This long film is possibly better suited for TV viewing, so for UK viewers I expect to see it on BBC TV because BBC-Films was one of the funding sources. Despite that, I'm pleased to have seen it at the almost empty cinema if only for the better focus there with no distractions of home.

I liked this more than I was expecting, which possibly says more about me than the film.

It's a surprise to me that this film got made, especially in these pandemic times, as it is quite indulgent, languid and would appeal to a possibly limited segment of cinema goers.

It is not a biography of Sassoon, as there's no mention of his father, his father's early death, the bequest from his aunt, or Heytesbury, or his death etc.

Instead it is an absorbing slightly mesmeric collage of catty dialogue, music, poetry and grainy WW1 footage and still photography artfully assembled into a tale of searching for redemption and the angst for help to deal with the past, which presumably explains the title.

The initial early transition between actors (young Siegfried and old Siegfried) could have been better handled as at least one later transition of another character was clearly done. Peter Capaldi is fabulously haunted in the role of old Siegfried, though with a clipped accent to mask the rich Scottish tones underneath. The always watchable Geraldine James appears briefly as mother.

Jeremy Irvine is devilish as Ivor Novello. Calam Lynch is acidic as young Stephen Tennant. Jack Lowden is reasonable as young Siegfried.

The first of the song choices seemed anachronistic, as the backing for grainy WW-1 footage. But this is a minor detail.

Overall: best for TV maybe, 7/10.

A slow, stately biopic about poet Siegried Sassoon and the demons that plagued him after serving in WWI.

The movie has serious Evelyn Waugh vibes, especially "Brideshead Revisited." WWI stories always fascinate me, especially when they're about how much the war screwed up the psyches of the people who were caught up in it. This film is overall satisfying, if a bit repetitive. A huge amount of time is spent on Sassoon, a more or less openly gay man, and his various love affairs, all with caricatures of flamboyant, bitchy gay men and all of them leaving you wondering what he wanted to be around them for in the first place. Seriously, were all gay men this hateful in the 1920s? But then you think about how marginalized they were, and the answer is, well, yeah, maybe they were. They had a lot to be hateful about.

The one reason to see this movie is a big one, and that's the central performance of Jack Lowden. He's magnificent in this. Easily award worthy, though a group like the Academy Awards wouldn't recognize him in a million years.

Grade: A-

Here's a lot of old fashioned Britishness we love. Repressed emotions hidden behind immaculate manner and only expressed through biting witty comments and classy bitching. But having partially lived in and experienced modern UK (or let's just say London, that is a world of its own) for over a decade now, it's the world that's almost gone... unless for such rare moments brought back by the dying breed as Terence Davies.

In that sense, the whole film is definitely sentimental, nostalgic... and gently bitter (as oppose to bitter sweet). Even the scenes of horror from WW1 are somewhat veiled with distinctively old fashioned verses of Siegfried Sassoon. For some reason most scenes with special effects (the scene where Siegfried dropping his medal being most noteworthy) feel so dated too, as in 90's film or a student project of SiFi.

My biggest issue in enjoying the film was that I gradually lost empathy with Siegfried. He starts off as gentle, smart young man, restrained but with lucid enough self-awareness and noble idealism of a youth. Then he dips in relationships with pretty but frivolous guys, predictably gets hurt by them, and then opts for a more conventional life of marriage and child in the selfish hope that the wife and son may give him the light he craves for. And then he ends up a bitter, distant, irritable and irritating old man, who vents out to his poor wife and suffering son, practically the only people left around, for their failure to become the light he wanted them to be.

Now, it's not entirely his fault alone. The horror of the war that scarred him for life and the intolerant society that kept him from acting upon his true love have a lot to answer for. Even his shallow, egoistic post-war lovers are largely because such bold 'crazy' ones were the only people who could live somewhat openly as gay in the repressive British society.

Nevertheless Siegfried had so many privileges - his uppercrust background, artistic talent, social recognition, and few but supportive friends. Despite of it all, he makes choices against his own truth and heart, and ends up a bitter resentful old man. His last ditch attempt to God wouldn't give him the solace he craves for.

I guess that is actually the message of the film - how giving up one's true heart and truth, whether by one's own will or circumstances, can leave one just a shell of oneself. And what's the worth of a poet when he can't speak his truth?

Overall it left me somewhat unsatisfied after 2 hours of run despite of its many enjoyable and charming virtues. I suspect Terence Davies himself has never quite overcome the pessimistic view he manifested in his early trilogy.

It's an anti-war biopic of the English poet Siegfried Sassoon that covers Sassoon's life from 1914 to the 1960s.

Siegfried Sassoon (Jack Lowden/Peter Capaldi) was a Second Lieutenant during World War I. His younger brother, Hamo (Thom Ashley), is killed during the war. Siegfried is further horrified by the tremendous human toll in death and lifelong disability caused by military leadership in which he no longer believes. Already a well-known poet, he refuses further participation in the war and is sent to the Craiglockhart War Hospital near Edinburgh technically for shell shock. There Siegfried meets and befriends Wilfred Owen (Matthew Tennyson), a much younger man. Siegfried also explicitly recognizes his own homosexuality.

The film then follows his anti-war sensibilities through snippets of his poetry and his chaotic love life, mainly focused on Ivor Novello (Jeremy Irvine) and Stephen Tennant (Calam Lynch/Anton Lesser). At a certain point, he tries to escape the chaos by marrying Hester Gatty (Kate Phillips/Gemma Jones). Together they have a son. George (Richard Goulding), but clearly, the marriage does not heal Sassoon's memories.

The film uses footage from the trenches in World War I and occasionally flips in time between the young Sassoon and the elderly Sassoon. Some of the editing decisions made little sense to me, particularly the early scene forecasting his conversion to Catholicism. Some edits made the film more complex than necessary. Nevertheless, the movie successfully portrays Sassoon as disabled because of World War I, from which he never psychologically recovered. This is clear from the multiple references to Wilfred Owens' poem, "Disabled."

Davies is a masterful filmmaker. He has stated that he is not a "Gay" filmmaker in the way that, possibly, Jarman was. I think this is generally true. Davies seems more concerned with individual struggle and self-expression than homosexual rights. His period films recall a time when individuals created and asserted their identity in opposition to social conformity. While he emphasizes the personal and the private sphere of experience, he also recognizes how these can transform society. A Quiet Passion, Sunset Song, and Benediction are about people revolting in very unique ways. The performances and control of other elements are subtle, complex, and always interesting.