The Ruling Class

After the 13th Earl of Gurney succumbs to a fatal autoerotic asphyxiation incident, his mentally unbalanced son Jack inherits his position in the aristocracy. Jack, believing himself to be Jesus Christ incarnate, pledges to use his family's wealth and influence for the good of mankind. His philanthropic ideals displease his relatives, who plot to oust Jack from the estate so they can continue to enjoy the quality of life to which they'd grown accustomed. For everyone involved, however, things will get increasingly complex, as Jack's unhinged psyche is near breaking point; and his family's machinations may just push him over the edge.

Based on Peter Barnes' play of the same name, 'The Ruling Class' is a wildly amusing, madcap movie. Directed by Peter Medak- and with a screenplay from Barnes himself- the film shows us a comedic portrait of a man fully enveloped by madness, while skewering the British class system in a sharp, entertaining way.

Combining broad comedy with barbed, witty dialogue- as well as a dose of gallows humor- the film is sure to make you laugh. In the latter half, there is a tonal shift, and 'The Ruling Class' gets considerably darker; but is no less enjoyable. While the continued treatise on the aristocracy does seem a little one-note at times, and some of the jokes fall rather flat; the story is mostly inventive, bizarre and fiendishly humorous.

On the technical side of things, 'The Ruling Class' is a mixed bag. Ken Hodges' cinematography isn't awful per se, it's just uninspired; a little drab. There are some fantastic images in the film, but Hodges doesn't capture them with any sense of fun or style. Hodges and Medak worked together on Medak's debut feature 'Negatives,' and their collaboration on that project yielded infinitely more interesting and affecting results. Additionally, Ray Lovejoy's editing feels loose and inconsistent, with some scenes going on far too long and others feeling positively brisk in comparison; leaving the pacing erratic and irregular.

Also of issue is John Cameron's overblown score, which is exhaustingly energetic. While there are a couple of effective pieces, his arrangements are the antithesis of subtle work, and they actually rob a few scenes of power and impact. On a more positive note, Ruth Meyers' costume design is striking, with her outfits for Jack being especially notable and grand. Tim Hampton's production design is superb all round, and the locations consistently look marvelous on screen.

'The Ruling Class' boasts a cast that any fan of English movies will go cock-a-hoop over, featuring the likes of Graham Crowden, William Mervyn and Kay Walsh; all performing at the top of their games. Alastair Sim and Arthur Lowe both have small but meaty roles as an eccentric bishop and a butler, and Harry Andrews makes the most of his all too brief scene as the 13th Earl; delighting with his outrageousness. Coral Browne also impresses with her turn as Jack's aunt, a comically duplicitous wench if ever there was one.

Peter O'Toole dominates the movie, though, giving a performance of alarming intensity and boundless comedic skill. As Jack, he is insanity personified, a lunatic of monumental proportions. O'Toole brings the over-the-top role to life so naturally and effortlessly you forget he's acting, and that the man himself hasn't snapped. He carries the film, and it is hard to imagine anyone else playing the part- or, indeed, the film working had he not been cast. It is a towering performance of immense strength and depth that is genuinely unforgettable (and quite frightening, from time to time).

'The Ruling Class' is a terrific movie that combines pointed satire, broad humor and witty dialogue, with results that are sure to please. The film boasts a large cast of talented actors giving it their all, as well as a powerful central performance from Peter O'Toole that is mesmerizing, macabre and memorable. Though 'The Ruling Class' may get a little frantic in places, and the cinematography is nothing to write home about, it is always entertaining and utterly unique: a fabulous, frenzied farce.

British `dark comedy' was possibly as its zenith with this rich Peter O'Toole offering by director Peter Medak. O'Toole is Jack Gurney, the youngest and `somewhat eccentric' heir to the House of Gurney. He suddenly finds himself being forced by his late father's will into taking up his role in British society - assuming the family seat in the House of Lords. The biggest problem is not that the late Earl of Gurney has just accidentally hung himself wearing a cocked hat and a ballet skirt, or that Jack has just released himself from `hospital' where the doctors were treating his `nerves.' No the biggest problem is that, on a good day, the new 14th Earl of Gurney thinks he's Jesus Christ and, on a bad day, he thinks he's Jack the Ripper!

And if that mix of the macabre doesn't make you chuckle, try this unexpected twist. At several poignant moments throughout the film, the cast will suddenly break from straight-faced dialogue into a full-blown, song and dance numbers, some of which would make Busby Berkley proud. In one case, the tune of `Connect 'dem Bones' is ushered up to punctuate a scene with O'Toole lecturing the local gentry about the need for capital punishment. Herein lies one of the big reasons why this film is so off-the-wall and refreshingly funny.

For my money, this is one of the most original, thought-provoking and honest critiques of the British class system ever to be put on film. O'Toole is simply mesmerizing as he juggles Jack's multiple personalities, the funniest of which is Christ or, as he prefers it, `J.C.' It's hysterical to watch the cumulative effect of J.C.'s `touched' outlook on the members in his stuffy, conspiring family who are out to get Jack committed permanently.

A true `Must See Film' for anyone who enjoys a juicy, sardonic, intelligent black comedy, especially when the topic focuses on the silly pomposity of the British upper classes.

A scathing and profoundly witty attack on Britain's social and political institutions with Peter O'Toole on his best ever form as Jack, the Son of an English Earl who inherits his Father's estate when the old man accidentally kills himself via auto-erotic asphyxiation. The only problem for Jack's relatives is that he's a paranoid Schziophrenic who thinks he's Jesus and they're quick to move for his indefinite committal when he starts to talk about the relinquishing of material possessions and tolerance toward all men. The Ruling Class is a film of two halves. The first is some of the best character comedy you'll ever see. As "JC" who wears glasses because he's cold, O'Toole commands every scene benefiting from some superbly written monologues and one liners, the standout being his pre-wedding speech on the cross and he's assisted by the creme de la creme of British character actors, Arthur Lowe a standout as the newly liberated Trokskyite Butler Tuck with a blatant contempt for his old masters. The second half however, is dark stuff indeed - jet black in fact. Apparenty 'cured' after an arranged confrontation with the AC-DC messiah, Jack dresses as a Victorian gentleman, talks about capital punishment and superior breeding and concerns no-one, the fact he believes himself to be Jack the Ripper going completely unnoticed by his peers who prime him for his climatic accession to the House of Lords. The conceit is milked for all its worth and the final scenes with a hallucinatory Jack looking at his fellow peers in the House as decayed corpses is a particularly chilling postscript to the story. Subtle? No way but its sledgehammer to the concept of patronage and privilege as a criteria for governance and influence. Like the best satire its savage, angry stuff - possibly overlong and too conscious of its theatrical origins but ultimately no less caustic or inventive for it. Class indeed.

No other actor has had a career filled with more idiosyncratic roles than Peter O'Toole, and his role in "The Ruling Class" is perhaps the most idiosyncratic of them all.

O'Toole plays the heir to a British House of Lords who dies accidentally (and bizarrely), leaving his family to hash out the estate. The family is much disturbed by the fact that O'Toole is the heir -- understandably so, since he believes that he's Jesus Christ. Much wackiness ensues, until O'Toole has a change of perspective and decides that instead of Christ, he's Jack the Ripper. More wackiness ensues, the film gets darker and darker in that way that only British films can, and the whole thing may leave you scratching your head but will no doubt also leave you gloriously entertained.

For O'Toole fans, this is a chance to see him single-handedly carry a delirious mess of a movie on his shoulders, and make a rousing success out of it. Much of it doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's all a hoot, especially the impromptu musical numbers peppered throughout the film. There's some scathing satire aimed at the British class system, but it's nothing you haven't seen before, and the whole film has the feeling of being the pet project of an undisciplined director. But I highly recommend this, because you've never seen anything quite like it, and it's a chance to see one of our generation's greatest actors strutting his stuff like the pro that he is.

Grade: A

Back in 2001, The Criterion Collection saw fit to add "The Ruling Class" (1972) to their catalog; which means there is now a good print available in the correct aspect ratio, one that includes the entire original release running time of 154 minutes. It also means that "The Ruling Class" is now regarded in film circles as a "significant" movie. Of course almost any film student will tell you that "significant" is not necessarily synonymous with entertaining, critically acclaimed, or well-made.

So if you are considering a purchase or have just had a confused post-purchase viewing experience the following discussion may prove useful. This is a British film, one I originally watched on the BBC a few months after its release. It was neither a critical success (mixed reviews) nor a box office sensation and hitting the BBC so soon after a theatrical release back then was not much different from going direct-to-video today.

It was a counter-culture film, and much of my original enjoyment came from the obvious tweaking of certain cultural and political institutions. Much of this stuff has lost its power and appeal over the years.

It has a lot of expressionistic and allegorical elements; this sort of stuff was (and is) relatively rare in an English language film and probably accounts for much of the current cult status of the film. The black comedy aspect of these elements has held up very well and you will understand the film better and enjoy it more if you don't take it literally.

Jack, the 14th Earl of Gurney (Peter O'Toole), has recently inherited the family title and a place in the House of Lords of the British Parliament. The story actually begins with a cheerfully provocative black comedy sequence as his father, the 13th Earl (Harry Andrews), accidentally hangs himself while performing what is apparently a long-standing self-pleasuring ritual.

Jack believes himself Jesus Christ and his family believes that they can get their hands on the estate once he produces an heir. Their idea being to have him committed and then become guardians of the child. Carolyn Seymour plays his uncle's mistress who is brought in to marry Jack. Her character throws a wrench in the works by falling in love with her new husband. Other than Jack, Seymour's character is the only one that undergoes any real change during the course of the film and she sells this transformation quite nicely while also providing one of the best striptease sequences you are likely to stumble across in a mainstream movie.

As already noted the running length is 154 minutes, that's about the length of two movies and if the film were being produced today I suspect that it would be done as two separate films. Indeed it is really two stories with each having an entirely different tone. About midway through the film, the Jesus version of the 14th Earl is replaced by a Jack the Ripper version. In the process a farcical and relatively light-hearted black comedy is instantly transformed into a much darker story. Black comedy gives way to dark fantasy and hallucinations as the wheels fall off the story until a visually stunning ending.

The 1972 theme being essentially that being forced to conform to the ritualistic practices of upper class British society produces a monster. That not being able to "do your own thing" unleashes a monster on the world. Unfortunately the basic cause and effect of this whole process is glossed over and one is left wondering why the film you have been watching has been replaced with something entirely different and far less entertaining.

O'Toole underplays his two characters, don't expect a lot of Gary Oldham type excess. Jesus is more a mild narcissist than a booming holy roller. Jack (the Ripper) is much better mannered but obviously smoldering beneath his polite exterior.

The laughs mostly come from the discomfort of Jack's family and from Alastair Sim's apoplectic bishop and Authur Lowe's collectivist butler who abuses the family with a "Benson" type frankness.

There are two great musical sequences, a hunt club performance of "Dem Bones" (a homage to "The Prisoner") and the climatic scene in the House of Lords (a surreal montage of decay to the music of "Pomp and Circumstances" and "Onward, Christian Soldiers").

Then again, what do I know? I'm only a child.