The Birthday Party

This is the first Harold Pinter play i watched. It's weird, claustrophobic and interesting, i mean, first 40 minutes are somewhat slow-paced but then, it speeds up and raise the stakes. Biggest quality here is acting, every actor did a tremendous job. It's not easy to categorize it, it is something like a black comedy +psychological drama thriller+ Absurdism. I could have rated it higher but it's too ambiguous and i don't love movies which are being intentionally so vague. It's so easy to create a mystery, every writer can do it but it takes a lot of skill to give also the right-mindblowing- answers to the questions you just raised. Pinter doesn't give any answers, so my rating won't be that thigh. Yet, it was a fun ride, almost Kafkaesque in a way, and those comedic moments were almost brilliant. In any case, this is a good movie.

Harold Pinter's brilliant early play-on-film, The Birthday Party, is one of his best efforts, and perhaps, with The Homecoming, the pinnacle of the Theater of the Absurd. The plot itself is simple. Two men come to visit Stanley, a classical pianist who has, for unknown reasons, left his home and is staying with a provincial couple. He is visited by Shamus McCann (Patrick McGee) and Nat Goldberg (Sydney Tafler). They alternately celebrate and menace Stanley, who may or may or may not know them. Nothing is clearly stated. Most of the dialogue consists of insinuations and vague threats. Performances across the board are outstanding, with Robert Shaw outdoing himself as Stanley Weber. Moultrie Keisall as Petey is excellent but understated, and his final words really put the cherry on the birthday cake. (sorry for the pun). Nothing I can say can communicate the unique strangeness and power of this film. Top marks, 5 stars, classic.

Friedkin does an excellent job of turning Harold Pinter's crunchy little Comedy of Menace into a suitably dank, dreary-looking movie full of dark corners, both visual and characteristic. Cast is spot-on, but Sydney Tafler's Goldberg is outstanding; alternately affable and deeply threatening with sublime ease. Even better is Dandy Nicholls as Meg, a truly pitch-perfect performance in one of Pinter's few sympathetic (and substantial) female roles. This reading does invite comparison with the 1987 TV production, in which Pinter himself plays Goldberg and Joan Plowright the daffy Meg. For my money, this movie is the winner by a length. Highly recommended.

I think that Roger Ebert pinned this work down when he said that adapting the Pinter play would inherently cause some problems - what one can buy as a little more fantastical and hermetically sealed on a stage, where one can be just stuck with these two people on the 'job' with their assignment as Mr. Stanley Webber (Robert Shaw) is a little harder to buy in a film because the reality is different (at least in this case. While I would recommend the film to people, especially for those who want to seek out Friedkin's oeuvre, and it has some terrific performances, it is an exceedingly strange and odd sit.

The film is about... well, what is it really? I suppose it's about what happens to a man when he cracks under the weight of pressure and has a nervous breakdown, but that's the sort of main-ultimate point, if there is one. I felt like Pinter was challenging me and the audience, though to what end I am sure I don't know. Of course there is a great deal of suspense - what Shaw knows that the owners of the house don't about these two stranger-boarders (Patrick Magee, who you may recall as the Writer from Clockwork Orange, and Sydney Taffler who is really razor-sharp and wonderfully sadistic as Nat Goldberg) - amid this 'birthday party' which is now really on his birthday.

Of course this is what is called 'theater of the absurd'. And to this point there are a few funny moments, but I wouldn't necessarily call it a comedy, at least in Friedkin's hands. Perhaps it's because of the edge of Robert Shaw, who is probably the main reason to watch the film is for his startling performance that keeps an emotional through-line. When he first starts off in the movie he's mad at Dandy Nichols for... something or other (the tea, the corn flakes, the milk, for not, uh, talking to him in a particular way). One almost wonders if he's about to strike her, it's that sort of intense screen persona. But there's a lot more to his character and Shaw conveys this in this big early scene (he's also, I think, an ex-concert pianist or something).

You have to be set in the right frame of mind for this movie, and it definitely won't spoon-feed you easy dramatic answers to questions that are posed. By the end I was still not sure who Goldberg and McCann represented (my first thought was they were in some criminal organization - the "job" aspect made me think of a heist, and perhaps that's not that far from the truth by the very end, in a sense). Maybe it's a metaphor for how easily people can crack up, how manipulation and torture are so insidious, especially when pressed hard enough, and meanwhile the mostly happy old Mrs Bowles has her own dimensions too and works as a counterpoint for everyone else (she, along with her husband, has nothing to hide).

There's also some dazzling and bizarre camera and lighting choices, though these mostly come in the last couple of reels as the birthday party 'amps up' so to speak, with a camera at one point latched on to a character's head for dizzying perspective and when the lights go out at one point it's... I can't even. The point is, The Birthday Party is a good little find that is Friedkin in love with a piece of material that is bold, difficult and gives himself some chance to take what he learned directing television (I'm not sure if he did live theater but it wouldn't surprise me) into cinema and make it alive and thrashing. Whether it all makes sense is another story.

I must say I will take a little umbrage at the meagre critical reception this film has got; it seems to have largely been just written off as "well acted, *but* not suited/adapted to film". I would have to say it's a good thing to try and broaden the audience for what is undeniably a fine play in my opinion, by making a film. The film sticks very closely to the dramatic text, and it's a critical truism to say that the immediacy of theatre performance is lost. It may well be that Pinter is particularly good on stage (certainly judging by a recent run of "The Collection" that I saw in September), but he's also been very effective cinematically, in the adaptations of "The Servant" and "Accident". This is certainly a more constrained film than "Accident", and a little more so than the claustrophobic "The Servant"; one could say the director and others involved with the film are playing it safe, but that's no problem really, as the formula was excellent to begin with. Certain exterior shots do add a lot I feel, as does the subtle, suggestive opening in the car. For a film as "theatrical" as this is claimed to be, it has good camera sense, and handles the dialogue neatly. The scene where it shifts to monochrome in the dark light I did like. I feel that the scotched, grim, mundane colour stock of the film is certainly in tune with the play and the though.

Most important perhaps, in a performance of Pinter on film, are the performances, and I must declare them to be excellent and overlooked. Robert Shaw, an actor I always enjoy ("A Man for all Seasons" and "From Russia With Love" making up a decidedly contrasting threesome of Shaw films I've seen...), is proficient as Webber, the absurd "mystery man" laying low in a seaside boarding house. Most impressive to my mind though, are Dandy Nichols, Patrick Magee and Sydney Tafler. Nichols certainly plays the darkly hilarious role of the unknowing, deluded Meg to a veritable tee. Magee and Tafler define the roles of Goldberg and McCann, the sinister, well-versed double-act, to such an extent that I'll definitely think of them in the roles from now on, when I think of the play. Magee is a foreboding, but often unwittingly droll presence in the film, timing his acting brilliantly. His Irish tones contrast finely with Goldberg's sophisticated Jewish-London accent. Tafler is an absolute marvel in this role, walking away with the film in many ways, embellishing another elusive, odd Pinter character, the most erudite in the play. He fills the screen amply and times the dialogue perfectly; a stunning performance, by a somehow obscure actor. The chap who played Petey Boles is also good, in a small but certainly necessary part.

Of course, one unfamiliar with Pinter may be bemused by the oddball plot, struggle to come up with instant meanings and then describe it as weird and incoherent, as if those were bad things... Of course, it isn't truly incoherent; there are meanings and interpretations to be made if one pays close attention to the dialogue. And it is the dialogue, that, as ever with Pinter, dazzles. Suffice to say, I am not truly in a position to analyze and describe why his dialogue is so brilliant in a mere film review such as this is, but trust me, his dialogue is remarkable; making the banal seem rich and sinister, and the rich seem banal and ritualistic (in Goldberg's case). A worthy effort really, this film, I'd say, as it captures so much of the Pinter brilliance.

Rating:- ****/*****