Valentino

Filled with wonderful moments, Valentino, ultimately collapses under the weight of its overblown and raucous fairground antics. It must have been an amazing coup to get Rudolf Nureyev to play the infamous Rudolph Valentino but there is just too much going on and some scenes going on for too long. The costumes, by the director's then wife Shirley are amazing but really only help to feed in to the overall campiness of the proceedings. I can imagine Ken bouncing about encouraging everyone to give it their all and this certainly seems to have born fruit with Peter Vaughan's ecstatic performance towards the end but it also means that poor little Felicity Kendal, always the most measured of actresses, actually overacts here. A camp extravaganza that I'm sure many can enjoy but I would have preferred just a little more insight. The Fatty Arbuckle portrayal is unforgivable, never mind that of Valentino himself.

like each of his films, it is a demystify. precise, ironic, seductive in a special way, provocative. the first challenge - Nureyeev in the lead role. using his talent and art and body. for give the portrait of a world more than the portrait of a man. because it is a film about media and Hollywood and idols and sparkles. about image. and, sure, about glory , success and its large cages. so, a Ken Rusell film. and, maybe, nothing more.

In Australia in 1977 we were in the boom years and love affair with colour TV. Most cinema releases movies at the box office dropped dead.. and most were very good... or at least interesting.... VALENTINO was one of them. A wildly ambitious and quite well imagined 1920s fiction on Valentino's career and loves, this Ken Russell pic has spectacular imagery and hilarious casting (Huntz Hall as the head of Paramount) but as usual in a Russell film was seriously derailed by grotesque sexual moments. The film has a great sense of time and place and with great female casting, spectacular dance scenes and breathtaking art direction VALENTNO gives the viewer 2 hours of lavish early 20s Hollywood life. Any film with both Carol Kane and Leslie Caron with Nureyev must be seen to be believed anyway. Some cinemas of the time (well, mine anyway) ran it as a double feature with NEW YORK NEW YORK and found the same audience enjoyed both... even if they needed a meal break and a walk around the block to get through this 5 hour musical fruit salad. In the same week we also ran THE WORLD'S GREATEST LOVER which, also with Carol Kane and equally gorgeous 20s visuals missed its mark because of the insufferable antics of Gene Wilder over-eating the whole production. Yes, over-eating. Nobody survived.

I was fortunate enough to have caught the last 2 hours! This film was engrossing from the time I tuned in, until it ended.

His (Nureyev's) portrayal is timeless. The dance scenes are spellbinding. I've wanted to dance - only to pursue other career choices. His subtleties leave you wanting more.

I was very moved by his performance. Michelle Phillips' performance ranks with some of the 'BEST' work seen from her! She deftly embodies a woman who will do whatever it takes to be with and support the man she loves! A rarity these days, she makes it look simple and exudes the on-screen confidence to do just that! Kudos, Michelle!

I was deeply disturbed to learn that he (Nureyev) had died of AIDS. This disease is an equal opportunity destroyer. Just think of what he might have accomplished had he lived...

Nureyev brings passion, delight, and a wide range of emotions to his performance - and should be delighted to know that his work in this piece is truly appreciated!

I am now searching for an unedited copy of the film for my archives.

While I'm not a Ken Russell expert or afficionado, I have come to expect certain things when viewing one of his films. One is the almost obsessive attention to period detail, which is refreshing in this day and age. I mean, when Carol Kane comes out with a soup tureen full of french fries and a bottle of ketchup, you can bet your Aunt Myrtle's girdle that that bottle is period correct for the 1920s. Another thing is that Russell usually drops some sort of fever dream-styled scene into the proceedings that usually results in a form of tonal whiplash from the rest of the movie. This happens with the jail scene of Valentino and his wife. Sweet Mary, I almost had flashbacks to the torture scenes in THE DEVILS with that one. Russel definitely marches to his own beat; if the mythology behind Valentino doesn't suit his purposes, Russell simply barges ahead and creates his own. Valentino historians and fans (are there any still living?) may take issue with accuracy and sequence, but Rudolf Valentino is no sacred icon to me, so the film is a nice palate cleanser from all the corporate, comic book sausage product we've been fed of late. It's nice to see this ragtag bunch of players, from Nureyev and Mama Michelle to Leslie Caron and Carol Kane to players like John Ratzenberger in an early role. Part fever dream, part movie mag ballyhoo, the film drags during its middle/third act, but ultimately goes down easy . . . Well, as easy as a Ken Russell movie can.