Scandal

I doubt if anyone would call "Scandal" one of the great British films but this account of the Profumo affair and the scandal that finally toppled McMillan's government is a hell of a lot of fun with an excellent cast, a smart scirpt and an almost obsene relish in the very pleasures it's pretending to condemn. Not that "Scandal" is in any way hypocritical; I mean what's the point of making a film that's largely about sex if you leave out the sex!

John Hurt is a superb Stephen Ward. Joanne Whalley-Kilmer is perfectly cast as Christine Keeler, Ian McKellen, with a largely bald wig, is an unusually sympathetic Profumo and Bridget Fonda is great fun, and Golden Globe nominated, as Mandy Rice-Davies while the story itself is one of those juicy, gossipy affairs we never tire of hearing about. Throw in a great sixties soundtrack and a Pet Shop Boys/Dusty Springfield closing number and you really can't miss.

Viewed from the 21st century, the Profumo affair seems much ado about nothing, a sex scandal of an altogether more innocent age. Put to one side the marginal security issues, and all that is left is a bit of bad behaviour among the aristocracy, and to be frank, if you choose not to shoot these people, you can't really expect for anything more. It did leave one serious casualty, however: Stephen Ward, procurer of girls to the upper classes, who committed suicide after being abandoned by his friends when the going got tough. 'Scandal' tells his story, and manages to be reasonably sympathetic to Ward, Christine Keeler (the girl who slept with Profumo) and even (to some extent) the minister, although the facts don't quite seem to support the continuing strength of the bond between Ward and Keeler as depicted. The portrait of the early 1960s is well judged (without the film ever feeling overly historical), and there are interesting insights into the semi-professional sexual relationships between the smart set and the girls on the make they adopted. But the best thing about 'Scandal' is really the acting. A distinguished array of British character actors perform their turns impeccably; and Joanne Whalley, while never quite looking eighteen, is a dead ringer for Keeler and always nice to look at. But in his own way, John Hurt (who plays Ward) is also great to look at, in his case because of his straightforward excellence as an actor. In his hands, Ward is an essentially mediocre man; and yet charming, far from wicked and ultimately tragic. In some senses, the whole affair provided a template for the subsequent portrayal of the private lives of politicians by the press, to the extent that today it would hardly make the waves that it did at the time. But this film goes far beyond historical reconstruction, and is well worth watching in spite of the relative triviality of the events is portrays.

I didn't expect much out of this when I was saw it about 15 years ago, but it turned to be quite interesting. The only problem was it has too much a sleazy feel to it and an obvious political agenda, which is not unusual in films. The agenda is almost always one way.

There is a lot of nudity in here, lots of it mainly with Bridget Fonda who plays "Mandy Rice-Davies" and Joanne Whalley-Kilmer as "Christine Keeler." Whalley-Kilmer looked particularly beautiful.

John Hurt as "Stephen Ward" and Ian McKellen "John Profumo" are the males. The story is about Britain's "Profumo Affar," as it was labeled back then - a sex scandal involving English politicians in the early 1960s.

In what could be a dry account turns out to be a fascinating movie, well-acted and beautifully-photographed. I've seen it three times and the third was probably the last. By then, the titillation of the nudity had worn off and the bias of yet another Liberal agenda bashing conservatives (it's same all over in the world of film-making) got a bit annoying. That, and the fact that had no English subtitles on the DVD, was disappointing.

The British have always enjoyed this kind of masochistic self-scrutiny, and what better wound to scratch than the notorious Profumo affair? The sex and treason scandal toppled England's conservative government in the early 1960s, and cost the life of at least one man: London doctor and celebrated freethinker Steven Ward, who enjoyed the heady, highbrow thrill of life in high places and understood how the quickest way into the corridors of power was through the pants of the men at the top. John Hurt manages to pull a sympathetic character out of the doctor's unsavory reputation, and freshman director Michael Caton-Jones recreates (with pitch-perfect sleaze) the boozy, lascivious mood of early '60s sex and politics. The details would have been compelling even without so much trendy visual overkill, but a little stylistic embellishment is to be expected in a film condensed to feature length from a proposed five-hour television miniseries. And although the script by Michael Thomas says nothing about power and privilege that isn't already common knowledge, it's nice to be reminded of the all-too human animal lurking just behind the typically English stiff upper lip.

I saw this for the first time last night on Channel 4. I've never sought out the film before because I assumed that it would be an uninvolved telling of an uninteresting piece of British history. I was wrong.

The piece works on several levels, as they say. First, the period evocation is excellent. I became interested in this era after reading an interesting book on slum landlord Peter Rachmann a few years back (he is a minor character here). Christine Keeler was a figure who inhabited both the pot and ska parties of London's impoverished immigrant community and the bedrooms of the most powerful men in the land, and this breadth and contrast gives the film sufficient scope to successfully capture the energy and feel of the time.

Second, the handling of character development is exemplary. The film surprises you by gradually shading in the relationship between Keeler and Stephen Ward, until their completely believable 'love affair' becomes the focus in the moving finale. Joanne Whalley and John Hurt are both exceptional as Keeler and Ward, turning in subtle and detailed performances. These characters are contradictory and ambiguous, the kind of complex human beings who could quite easily be reduced to type by lesser actors.

Third, the film is made with real heart and intelligence. It is sympathetic to its characters and it strives to understand them, and thus help us to understand them. The director, Michael Caton-Jones frames and cuts with brilliant understatement, making potent and witty use of contemporary music throughout. I really didn't expect the seamless technique and low-key accretion of detail employed here, and it kept me fascinated.

The tone of the picture is just right. A kind of compassionate sadness. We come to feel the real injustice of the moral and social hypocrisy bought to bear without being assaulted by it, and as noted before, the ending is powerful and affecting. It would appear that tabloid scumbags were as pernicious an influence then as they are now, and the observations thereon are as relevant as ever.

If I had to find fault with the film, it would be this: Ian McKellen models perhaps the least convincing bald pate in the history of cinema as John Profumo. So much so, that, for me, it impacts negatively on his otherwise notable performance. Its a minor flaw all told.

I was surprised. I was impressed. I was moved. If you happen upon the film, sit down and watch it. You will be rewarded.