Au-dessous du volcan

Under the Volcano could have made as just another 'Lost Weekend' film if not for the attention to a simple narrative (though one that has a lot underneath the surface), and a performance to compellingly take us through the unbalanced emotional state of its protagonist. From what I've read about what the novel became by this adaptation, Huston took out the big poetic bits that made it such an unclassifiable (and as many claimed unadaptable) work and made it into a tale of a man's downfall from grace and good times. The story is as such: Geoffrey Firmin (Finney) is a recently retired consul in Mexico who has that big, admirable personality that comes with those who have lived- or boasted to live- quite a life, and have taken now to mass consumptions of alcohol. It's not even about the enjoyment of it, but a compulsion for 'balance' to drink just to get sober, as it might be. He's also divorced, recently, but his wife (Bisset) comes to him again, wanting once more to patch things up.

This is set in the backdrop of the 'Day of the Dead' festival, and on the brink of world war 2, but these things are, however brilliantly and as a kind of delicate lining around, a backdrop for the emotional and mental and, it should be noted, spiritual struggle of Firmin. Huston never preaches about this man's rotting addiction, and there's no easy sympathy either. We see his emotional state rock from happy and hopeful to the pits of despair following the bullfight his half-brother Hugh (Andrews) takes part in, where he can't basically grasp his own reality anymore. Underneath this surface of the film though, where we're given this proud, unstable character, there's chaos riling about, attached in a way to the mood around, with rumored Nazi collaborators in the midst of things, a near-murdered body on the side of the road, the matter-of-fact metaphors of the symbols of death that (as Huston makes in one of the most Gothic openings to a movie I've ever seen) opens the film with marionette skeletons to an eerie Alex North score.

But lest to say that all credit should go to Huston for his storytelling. It's an interesting film for the first three quarters, though in a way feels like it has to be building for something; here and there, even as we're with these character wandering in a state of mind of disarray (will Firmin and Yvonne stay together, split apart, who will run away are the basic questions, as well as how Andrews might have something to do with it on either side), it starts to feel like it could become meandering. In that last quarter, however, Huston lays on a feeling of dread, maybe not entirely with coincidence, that hasn't been seen since Treasure of the Sierra Madre- something bad just HAS to happen, and it will come out through the worst devils of the protagonist's nature. There is that for Huston, the power of that brothel sequence, the terror and even the dark humor.

The best reason above all else, even as it's one of Huston's most challenging films, is that Finney is so terrific in the role. It's a startling work of an actor taking down his guard, making himself vulnerable and naked, so to speak, to the discord booze has brought to his mind. He gets depth to a guy that should be just another Hemingway figure, of the sorrow that really lies in every little moment and gesture and inflection. It also goes without saying he's one of the top three or four convincing drinkers in modern film. And at the same time it's not easy to peg what he'll do next as an actor, which step he might cross or double-back on. While his co-stars are very good in their parts, he dares to overshadow them with a tour-de-force. Under the Volcano pits its character into hell, and Huston brings us, without going overboard with stylistic flourishes, right along with him.

It is the finale of this film that redeems any possible weakness of the story one may entertain in one's mind as one views this film. The ending is so overwhelming, I had to watch it again at once. I then rewatched parts of the film just to luxuriate in the brilliant acting of Albert Finney. This is truly a masterpiece. There have been some criticisms of Ms. Bisset's acting etc, but this is small potatoes compared to the sheer genius of this story and its' realization. The music in the opening credits sets the tone and immediately draws you into the film. You know something profound will happen in the film and to you as you watch this film. Highly Recommended.

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.

Albert Finney's performance of alcoholism is shattering and spot on. This movie should be required as adjunctive therapy in the field of alcoholism recovery. The feeling of hopelessness that permeates this movie makes it an experience the viewer should be advised about.

This movie packs a punch and Finney's performance is as exact and nuanced as is possible. His posture, his mental states, emotions, facial expressions, use of language, clothing, physicality are completely consistent with those of an alcoholic in an advanced stage of the disease.

Although it's a one-man movie, the other main players act exactly as real people do when dealing with alcoholics and portray the emotions and feelings that surround alcoholic situations.

This movie is definitely not a walk in the park.

There are pointless arguments to be had as to whether Burton and Taylor in the main roles would have been better and wouldn't it have been good to see that Losey or, praise be, the Bunuel version get off the ground, but we have what we have. Almost fifty years on from when I read the deeply affecting book I cannot recall how faithful the telling is although I do retain a memory of it being more intense and foreboding than here. That volcano was not just a pretty picture but something like the forthcoming war that impinged upon the daily life. Nevertheless this is a very fine effort, Finney gives it his all and just about convinces, Bisset is pretty but less convincing and Huston has an eye for the Mexican setting, particularly the Day of the Dead celebrations and the final ghastly booze and debauchery sequence. But then, Huston himself knew more than a little about, not just drinking, but periods of drinking all the time, or as someone says here, 'drinking himself sober'.