Ni dieux ni démons

Truth be told, it's not easy to write a film review as disconnected as I am from the underlying inspirations and principals of the movie in tow: Gods and Monsters. I knew little about James Whale and the Frankenstein franchise, possessed virtually zilch experience with Bill Condon (aside from the trivial baggage that his previous _and first_ feature film was the Direct-To-Oblivion sequel to the Scariest-Movie-Of-All-Time-When-I-Was-Fourteen, Candyman.), and unceremoniously avoided anything to do with Brendan Fraser. So, there's not much I can say about historical accuracy, era juxtapositions, or tour-de-force performances. All I know comes from the ninety-eight or so minutes I had with the film.

Which were pretty splendid, to say the least. What more, I was pleased by how little the film seemed to hit me over the head. Not with a lengthy diatribe over the political progressions of societal acceptance of diverse sexual orientations, not with any sort of disgusted expose of Hollywood's miscreants. Instead, I found a minimal but simplistically acceptable plot moved along by wonderful acting, vivid portrayals of what it's really like, beneath the typical distractions, gimmicks, and veils, to be a human being. Ian McKellan astounded me. Fact or fiction, he wasn't necessarily James Whale, but a complicated, reserved, and often misunderstood director who found a glimmer of intrigue and desire for his new gardener, Clayton Boone, played impeccably by Brendan Fraser. From their initial meeting with Whale indulging in staring at Boone hard-driving an edger, I was struck by a remarkable sense of kinship between the two, which only got better as the film unfolded. And, with Hanna--the third vertice of the bizarre love triangle--the edgy buffer between the men, I felt incredibly comfortable just watching three very different people open up to each other and to me. The irony of the title, Gods and Monsters, is that whether someone or something is considered a 'God' or 'Monster' is largely due to perception...human perception. We invent our gods and our monsters daily, and they are usually people we know, love, hate, or admire. I spent a very good ninety-eight minutes, mostly from being in the company of those three fellow humans.

Gods and Monsters is in my opinion one of the cinema treats of the year if not one of the best of this decade. Disappointed by a visit to the Mod Squad, I visited ‘Gods' to cleanse my palate. It was enchanting from it's sensitive commencement to an emotional conclusion. It boasts a resonant story which holds it's audience entranced. The script adaptation left no scene lacking significance. Characters are proficiently crafted. Equally substantial, Bill Condon's perceptive Direction was facile and lucid. A mixture of colour and black and white imagery was deftly handled as was the juxtaposition of time person and place in the remembered and imagined sequences. Ian McKellen was the consummate performer as fading Hollywood screen Director James Whale enfeebled by a succession of strokes. The film is further enhanced by a splendid Award winning portrayal of the loyal house maid Hannah by Lyn Redgrave. I was stunned by 'The Mummy's' and 'Blast from the Past's' Brendan Fraser as the hapless and perplexed yardman Clayton Boone who is befriended by James Whale. Who would have thought that such a sensitive and in touch performance could come from the Encino Man. Both McKellen and Fraser team up in some empowering closing scenes. Here one character sees mirrored in the other character's disposition his own fears and emotions. Every facet of Gods and Monsters is admirable. Miss this and you have neglected a very special motion picture.

"Gods and Monsters" wore me out. It was so uncomfortable watching James Whale, a man of great intellect and pride, facing the hand that the stroke and his developing dementia has dealt him. He is old and is grasping at the disappearing straws of his sexual identity. He's seen as a sinner by his patient, loyal, and harshly loving housekeeper. He is becoming pathetic and he knows it. He minimalizes his accomplishments and really sees only betrayal. Flattery gets no-one anywhere. A man of infinite genius grabs for a platonic sexual encounter. All this does for him is brings up the monsters within himself, memories of war and lost love. Brendan Fraser is quite good and Ian McKellen is superb. His elusive nature and "keep-em-guessing" responses to simple conversation would drive most of us crazy. But we would stay for the stories.

I would run out of adjectives if I tried to convey the magnificence of this film in written form. Every single aspect of it is simply superb; from more technical aspects like the photography, the editing, the music, to Bill Condon's wonderful screenplay and direction, and the extraordinary performances by all three leads, it's nothing short of astounding. If it was me giving out the Oscars this would have swept the board. This is one of the works of art that the 90s should be remembered for.

The marvellous tale of how an old, homosexual, educated genius, in the twilight of his life, with a glorious past but also terrible ghosts, first tries to court but ultimately becomes a friend of a simple, young, good hearted man and opens his eyes and his mind with his stories and memories, becoming the turning point of his life, is gripping and moving beyond belief.

Arthouse it may be, due to its reduced budget and complex content, but I can't understand how anyone could fail to be touched by this deeply human story, no matter his or her tastes. I recommend it to anyone who loves sublime cinema.

"Gods and Monsters" is the beautifully acted and somewhat fictionalized story of director James Whale (Ian McKellan) as he faces the end of his life.

The openly gay Whale was the director of some of the great horror films: Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, The Invisible Man, and The Old Dark House, as well as the definitive Showboat, and one of my favorites, the bizarre Remember Last Night? (which no one in the movie does, by the way).

After a debacle over the film The Road Back, his studio thrust him into directing B movies, and by 1941, his career was over. After that, Whale developed a love of painting and directed in theater, where he had started in the '20s.

The film begins in 1957, the last year of Whale's life, after he has suffered a series of strokes. In the movie, his only companion is his housekeeper (Lynn Redgrave). (In real life, he was living with the much younger Pierre Foegel, whom he had met in France.)

Faced with diminishing mental faculties and unwanted flashbacks from his past, Whale develops a sometimes uneasy friendship with his gardener, Clayton Boone (Brendan Fraser). He asks Clayton to pose for him, and while Clayton does, Whale pours his heart out to him.

Some of it is too much for the straight Clay, but over time, the two men bond. Each gets something from the other. But Whale will ultimately want something astounding from his new friend.

This a complex film, well directed and written by Bill Condon, who adapted the novel The Father of Frankenstein by Christopher Bram. Whale attempts to create his own Frankenstein monster, in a sense, in Clay, and the stunning images near the end of the film which take place during Clay's dream sequence point this up. The film also demonstrates the loneliness and deterioration of old age, as well as the fear that goes along with it.

The cast is nothing short of magnificent, with phenomenal performances by the three leads: McKellan, Fraser, and Redgrave. The late, always excellent David Dukes plays David Lewis, Whale's ex-lover and still friend; Jack Betts and Rosalind Ayres are well made up and vocally correct as Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester, respectively.

Gods and Monsters is a sometimes dark, always thought-provoking film about old age, taking stock at the end of life, and the gods and monsters within each one of us.