The Grotesque

I really liked this movie, with it's dark but complicated theme. The acting in most cases was impeccable. Alan Bates as Sir Hugo was definitely as much of an antagonist in this film as was the butler Fletch, portrayed by Sting.The plot is thick and rather confusing as to know who the real Grotesque is ( as put by Sir Hugo) This was a much better screenplay than it was a book. The book really starts making no sense towards the end. The film at least has a third antagonist of sorts but I won't spoil it for you. Not easy to find, you can get this movie in VHS in the U.S. and DVD in some countries. It was worth the the watch for me.Sting is his usual sexy, steamy self and Trudy Styler (Mrs Sting who produced this movie) has a small interesting part as Fletch's alcoholic wife. It is dark and delicious fun and if you like this macabre genre, you might enjoy it. AKA "Gentlemen Don't Eat Poets" and "Grave Indiscretions"

This movie was more boring than church. All they did was yak yak yak and didn't even shoot anybody. The sex scenes were okay, but it was all that "dialogue" and "plot" between the sex that really ruined this film.

I like the premise of this film, a butler worming his way into the family to gain their inheritance, but the execution lacks any excitement, tension or even passion that it should.

Sting fails to capture any real nastiness about himself, the cinematography is DULL and the really leaden script doesn't do any justice to the fine Patrick McGrath novel.

I have a theory about why Sting and Trudie made this move: I think they became involved with the film for sentimental reasons. As far as I know, Sting and Trudie fell deeply in love during the time in which Sting made the movie, "Brimstone and Treacle." There are significant differences between that film and "Gentlemen Don't Eat Poets," but there are a few striking similarities. In both films, Sting portrays a sexy, mysterious, and sinister character who becomes involved with an unsuspecting family. Both characters take on a role of servitude only to wreak havoc on the respective families for personal gain. The two characters also torment a child of the respective families. I think these character elements attracted Sting and Trudie to this project, and I suspect the film reminds both of them about an extraordinarily passionate part of their personal past together.

There are plenty of reasons to enjoy this film beyond any interest viewers may have for Sting as a celebrity. The acting is actually quite good, and the performance of Alan Bates is memorable. The costumes, the set, the score, and the photography are all excellent. Where the film falls short is the lack of an enjoyable story. There are really no likable "good guys." Instead, there are just victims and "bad guys." At the same time, the viewing experience is more weird than dark. I think viewers are most likely going to ask the question, "What did it mean?" I cannot answer that question, but I would like to point out that this film is the last significant film role performed by Sting.

It's very difficult to dramatize novels hinging on an unreliable narrator without losing their essence. David Cronenburg did a brilliant job with Patrick McGrath's "Spider," in part by turning the narrator's garrulous on-page viewpoint almost entirely visual. But this adaptation of another excellent McGrath novel (my favorite) doesn't work remotely as well.

Where the book is a fiendishly misleading quasi-Gothic that turns out to be quite something else, the movie plays like a routine naughty costume intrigue, part "romp," part Agatha Christie. Despite the very interesting cast no one is particularly good (and Theresa Russell gives one of her really bad performances, which unfortunately by now outnumber her few very good ones). The story's original macabre psychological intricacy is lost in favor of something much more broad, and the book's key revelation simply gets lost in the uninspired shuffle.

It's watchable enough if you're not expecting much, and should you care, on a couple occasions Russell and Sting bare nearly all. But you're much better off reading McGrath's slim, sardonic, nasty little novel, which is both a subtle parody of Gothic literature and a great piece of perverse unreliable-narrator gamesmanship.

P.S. You know a movie has misfired when despite such notable actors it goes through so many desperate name changes: Debuting as "The Grotesque" (its source name), barely released to theaters as ""Gentlemen Don't Eat Poets," then to video as "Grave Indiscretions."