Mr. Turner

Although previous movies about artists haven't set the bar very high, 'Mr Turner' is one of the most authentic films about an individual following this occupation. Director Mike Leigh makes no attempt to string together a conventional biography of Britain's greatest landscape painter - his fragmented account simply observes a variety of the artist's interactions with his beloved father, wealthy patrons, colleagues, critics and mistresses during his later years.

JMW Turner was born and raised the son of a London barber, and although he became the house-guest of aristocrats, he never adopted the persona of a cosmopolitan sophisticate. The film follows his restless workaholic progress from studio to exhibition opening, from brothel to stately home, and on to rented rooms in cheap lodging houses bordering the subject matter which he loved to paint. The painter's early work was relatively conventional as he mimicked the styles of some illustrious predecessors. During the latter part of his life - financially secure and with his reputation established - he embarked on a series of ambitious paintings which anticipated the styles of artists who arrived on the scene several decades afterward. Turner's coarse manners and social awkwardness were infamous, but they are probably exaggerated for dramatic effect in this portrayal. However that's a minor gripe - at the center of the film is Timothy Spall's fine portrayal of an eccentric virtuoso going about the business of being an artist.

I hated it... I sighed and tutted and moved around in my seat... and then about a third of the way through it won me over. In that respect (and in many others respect) it's actually a lot like a Turner.

The initial scenes of the movie, which are very irritating to sit through, set the rest up well, lots of loud stomping on wooden floorboards, dry interiors in Turneresque palettes Timothy Spall making more grunting noises than any actor should be able to and still be taken seriously... stomp stomp stomp bang bang bang, hoarse shouting instead of dialogue, character introductions so perfunctory and stark they're almost parodic of the cinematic vernacular. The movie just screams with the kind of self-absorbed worthiness and obsession with human frailty that gives 'art films' a bad name... The wife shows up and harangues Turner at a volume that would transcend satire... there's an extended sequence during which a contemporaneous artist's career is commented on, vociferously and cruelly, by a group of critics/artists/patrons as he stomps off over the fields, this scene plays nothing like a conversation, but rather as if the script writer had typed out a series of quotes from a biography...Turner molests his housekeeper in the gruntiest, unsexiest way possible but it's SO clumsy and awkward the scene burns itself out and it just looks totally lifeless...actors expending effort poorly...

But the movie carries on like this with such gusto and wholeheartedness that it eventually became quite difficult (for me, at any rate) to remain cynical and detached. I did find myself immersed in the life of the man.

Timothy Spall's performance is completely over the top, and actually rather unpleasant to experience. Grunt, bash, bang, smash, grunt, growl, stomp, bash, grunt... it's almost a cartoon. You certainly can't come away from this movie liking the man you've just watched. He's an extremely annoying man. But as the movie progresses new flavours enter the character and it becomes clear that this movie isn't really a story at all, it really is primarily a portrait (rather as Turner's landscapes often seem more like portraits... so moody and full of consequence and meaning). Should I be disappointed at that? Perhaps I should, but I wasn't. Judging the movie on how it achieves it's intentions I should probably give it a 10... (Only I think it went on too long).

The scene that made me realise that the film-maker was fully aware of how I felt about this man I was watching came near the end when Turner's popularity is waning and he attends the Academy exhibition to be confronted with the Pre-Raphaelites. He starts sniggering. Nowhere in the movie is any attempt to explain his art or his theory of his art or the theory of any of the art contemporaneous with his and yet the scene makes perfect sense.

Very nicely done.

It is like his art. I don't like Turner, but I can't really *dismiss* Turner as I might someone more widely "respected" like Mondrian or Lichtenstien... or...(eyeroll)...Rothko.

There's a scene with an elephant. Mike Leigh spends some time on getting this scene right. I think it might mean something... Such a long time it's been since a movie made me actually *ponder* on whether or not I liked it... That's got to be worth something.

"The Sun is God." JMW Turner (Timothy Spall)

These are the last words of the great 19th century British Romantic painter, J.M.W. Turner. Writer/director Mike Leigh has brilliantly captured that sentiment, ironic or not, in each moment of Mr. Turner's short 150 minutes. Sun and light inform each frame to reveal Turner's fascination with the big landscapes and stormy seas infused with the infinite variations of that light. Yet even in the parlors of aristocrats or his seaside retreat, Leigh reminds us of what Turner with the help of light sees that we don't.

Leigh concentrates on Turner's last years, approximately from the late 1820's to 1851, a time when he jockeyed with the best artists of his day for the public's notice and when the Industrial Revolution was changing everything. Most artists, even Turner, were consumed with their own artistry, fought among themselves like children, and recognized Turner for his genius. As played by Timothy Spall, he's phlegmatic, surly, and almost piggish, at least in the way he makes love and snorts every other breath.

That snorting, like the light, expresses Turner's affinity for nature, which he then romanticizes in his paintings. While I never get enough insight into the inspiration of genius in these artist-biopics, Leigh peppers the narrative enough with Turner's quiet, reflective viewing of nature to satisfy my curiosity.

The film shows also Turner's appreciation of humanity as well, from charming prostitute to sickly servant to wealthy lord and fishmongers. At times Leigh lets Turner be mostly observer, throwing him among the distractions of city life and effectively losing him there. When Turner emerges, Leigh gives us the sense that nothing is lost on this genius; humanity will out in his painting.

When a disgruntled artist asks, "What is wrong with being a portrait painter," the haughty response is "What does it do to elevate the art?" Mike Leigh has elevated the art of film into the premiere spot among the arts—truly the most influential art form in the history of civilization. Mr. Turner is art and artist in all their lovely mess.

Four years ago, Mike Leigh released one of the finest films of his oeuvre. I saw Another Year at the London Film Festival gala premiere and I still consider it the only perfect film of this decade thus far. As a result, expectations for his long awaited followup Mr. Turner were very high. Especially as it's ostensibly his most ambitious, even moreso than Topsy-Turvy, also a period drama, that ultimately won 2 Oscars, the only Oscars any of his films ever won. Nevertheless, he's frequently a gift basket receiver at the ceremonies, garnering obligatory screenplay nominations and the odd directing nom, the last of which being for Vera Drake 10 years ago. His organic storytelling, balance of abstract concepts, ability to orchestrate extraordinary performances and his sardonic sense of humour resonate with critics and audiences alike. However, he's not always a crowd pleaser, and Mr. Turner in particular has divided audiences, though not enough to hinder its current awards progress. It's clear to see why. This biopic of the visionary 19th century artist J.M.W. Turner is dense and cryptic. In Leigh's impeccable attention to detail, not just in the production and costume designs, the language is authentic to the convoluted dialect of the upper class of the period and thus it's hard to follow the sparse plot, even for fans. It's unusual for Leigh to adapt a true story, he often starts from scratch, but true to his form his script here defies traditional structure. It's a liberating free form style, sampling scattered moments of Turner's life, not building to anything specific but just exploring what shaped his idiosyncratic perspective. As a result, the film has grit hard to find elsewhere, and although it's difficult to decipher, it's enchanting for some. Headlining the film is Timothy Spall's colossal performance. He's always been a highlight of Leigh's films when he's been involved, especially his knock out performances in Secrets & Lies and All Or Nothing. This is the role he was born to play. Tossing narrative aside, the film's primary concern is the character study of Turner, a brilliant but flawed man, and each sequence adds layers upon layers of dimensions to him as they swirl in anguish. Spall wears those emotions on his sleeve with a perpetual sneer, grumbly grunts and a piercing stare. The moments where he breaks down have the weight of an earthquake. He's at once a force of nature and has a tender vulnerability. But as illustrated by the exquisite opening shot, he is above all a man of his art and watching Turner paint with a chaotic elegance is fascinating, especially as the results develop over the film. The ensemble around Spall gives ample support, including the fleeting appearances from familiar faces such as the seething Ruth Sheen as the bitter mother of his estranged children and the delightful Lesley Manville as a sprightly scientist who conducts an art orientated experiment. The standouts however are the warm glow of Marion Bailey, Turner's landlady of his second home and mistress, and the anxious agony of Dorothy Atkinson, Turner's housekeeper who he frequently engages in sex but who suffers from a disfiguring skin disease. Bailey has her great moments, especially when she's overwhelmingly flattered, but Atkinson in particular has such heartbreaking conviction that she bursts from the background of her scenes. What makes the film Leigh's most ambitious project is the cinematography. He's always had a great eye for blocking and making the kitchen sink cinematic, but Dick Pope's work here broke the mould. It's obvious to call it Turner-esque, but that's the intention. It's almost like a David Lean precision of waiting for a cloud to move in the right place. It was indeed whenever Leigh and Pope encountered landscapes like this on other films that inspired them to pursue this film. Some shots cover more ground than he covered in the entirety of his early films. Not only are the outside shots beautifully composed, but also the inside, using wide angles to keep the grand scale. A collaborator since Happy-Go-Lucky, composer Gary Yershon's forlorn oboe contributes to the rich ominous tone. It's interesting that for a film about art and colour that it's saturated with browns, blacks and greys. The inherently meandering plot does lead it to becoming bloated, but it attempt to be an insight the many different facets of Turner's life and how that feeds into his work, something applicable to all the great artists. It also considers themes of legacy, one perhaps self-aware in hindsight, but important in context. It's a complex film, and it needs another viewing until I'm fully ready to embrace it. As like life, it ends unresolved and I'm still not sure what to make of it. I must be one of the few people who didn't feel it was too long, but only because I was hungry for something more conclusive. Leigh doesn't make it easy for us, but gives us everything to work with. For what I can digest so far, it's a gargantuan achievement. Due to that inaccessibility and the length of the film, awards attention outside of critic's awards is unlikely. Perhaps it could get a couple of BAFTA nominations, Leigh is not the sweeper people think he is there but it will no doubt get noms for Spall and Best British Film. If there were any justice, it would get Cinematography, Production Design and Costume Design across the board as for even people who didn't like the film can't deny their prowess. Leigh may miss out on that Original Screenplay nomination as the film is looser than his usual output, but particularly because the dialogue needs a double take. It is going to be difficult to imagine where Leigh will go from here but Mr. Turner duly satisfies a thirst for now. 9/10

I did write originality, but what I meant by that is - reality. The more realistic the movie is - the more dissatisfaction of the viewers it gets. Here are so many people indicating that the movie "is boring", "it's not entertaining"... Isn't that what life is like?...boring, and imagine being like an old man such as Turner portrayed in the movie - it would be rather boring. I thank god there are directors, who make movies without thinking how to entertain the audience. Every story tells you what it needs itself, you don't have to be extra original (the originality is there - if it's real). There is no chance this movie could be entertaining, you know it's not when you're somewhat familiar with Turner's biography and knowing that the movie shows the painter as an old man. I would very much like people to see reason, that movies are not bad if they don't entertain...God, just think about what kind of century we're living in: We are full of clichés, stereotypes, meaningless images and symbols, spirituality, we create imaginary self, then we promote it, we lie more than ever, and we are constantly seeking the entertainment, we don't want to spend our dear lives on something that looks boring, and even it is boring, don't necessarily dislike it, if you don't see a reason - don't necessarily judge it... Don't reject the originality, in fact, please: don't ever reject the originality. That's the reaction Turner was probably getting - lot of people rejected his kind of art...and not just Turner - it happened at each stage of art history, you're just being the same sort of sarcastic people, who reject the unusual, who always need things to be or look their way. People want to see the reviews (I think that is the purpose of the comment section), not who's entertained and who's not. HERE YOU ARE: The movie is: Real/true, beautiful (the scenes, the cinematography. there is a great deal of attempt to show the environment as it was/could have been around Turner, as well as showing the scenes that made his pictures), well thought story, you don't feel the script (that's a good thing actually, takes a lot of effort to make an audience feel like they are observing a real person's life, following him, attending the same places), acting is brilliant (needless to say - Timothy Spall is a genius). I saw the movie today and it was really worth spading 150 minutes of my life.

My advise to you - who want to watch Mr.Turner is this: Be an accepting person - you will get more out of anything you see that way. Be bored and uninterested - the only times you'll find something new is by not looking for what you'd normally look for (if it's normally an entertainment). And of course: You decide for yourself - what's boring and what's-not.

P.S: It was wise of Mike Leigh to chose the 2.40:1 (I think) aspect ratio particularly for this move, It's the firs Mike Leigh film I saw, to have that aspect ratio (looked really appropriate).