Stephen Frears's seriocomic biopic tells the story of Joe Orton and Kenneth Halliwell in flashback, framed by sequences of John Lahr, played by Wallace Shawn, researching the book upon which the film is based with Orton's literary agent, played by Vanessa Redgrave. I couldn't care less about the story being told in flashback. This cinematic device is growing increasingly stale and unnecessary. But what makes this movie fascinating is its portrayal of Orton and Halliwell's relationship, which is so real and deep and truthful and profound that Gary Oldman and Alfred Molina, who happen to be two of my favorite actors, playing the two fated writers, might as well be right in your living room as you watch them.
Orton and Halliwell's relationship is drawn from its initial stages at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Orton starts out as the inexperienced, amateurish youth to Halliwell's older scholar. As the relationship grows, Orton grows more and more doubtless of his ability while Halliwell's writing languishes. They descend into a twisted caricature of a conventional married couple, with Orton as the "husband" and Halliwell as the selfless and ever more overlooked and disregarded "wife." This could be a state of affairs made worse by Orton's incapability or reluctance, in 1960s England, to accept having a male life partner. Maybe, maybe not.
The circumstance and descent of their relationship is heartbreaking, but what impresses me the most is the portrayal in and of itself, in the writing, in the acting. Joe Orton is an insatiable, fun-loving bottom boy with an artistic streak and from the start, he is most concerned with self-preservation, pleasure, materiality and substance. Without any self- doubt or feeling, Orton is inclined to exploit whoever would give him a leg up to a life of notoriety and privilege. When quiet, intellectual Halliwell endeavors to cultivate him, Orton takes advantage and Halliwell grows more compliant and eager to be immersed in the depths of his growing love for him.
Halliwell alludes to childhood, which he gives the impression of being less pivotal than it really was for him, having been disregarded by his father and coddled dearly by his mother. His mother's death when he was a young boy was surely an immensely damaging turning point in his life, as when his father committed suicide, he came downstairs and "put the kettle on, got dressed and called an ambulance, in that order." He gives to the deficit of his mother in the natural way he lives his life, seldom enforcing his will save for his impressively rare breaking points, but operating by going with the flow of his innate emotions. He is inclined to travel the wave of his feelings for Orton, unable to help his protective, nurturing nature from integrating itself into Orton's life, even if it provides Orton with a convenient safety net and Halliwell himself with never-ending jealousy, disdain and longing for affection of any kind.
"Prick Up Your Ears" was to be the title of one of Orton's plays. The name was suggested by Halliwell who had provided much of Orton's titles all through the successful portion of his career. The cruelty of Orton's aloofness is infuriating, and the effect it had on the outsized emotional state of Halliwell is widely known, and demonstrated at the very beginning of the movie. Orton seemed only ever concerned with the quality of his own existence and seemed to an almost surreal extent to lack feeling.
There is no true way of knowing how Gary Oldman and Alfred Molina interpreted these roles, how different they are from my interpretation and how similar they, or Alan Bennett's astute screenplay, are to the real people. Nevertheless, they deliver profound performances.
Orton and Halliwell's relationship is drawn from its initial stages at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Orton starts out as the inexperienced, amateurish youth to Halliwell's older scholar. As the relationship grows, Orton grows more and more doubtless of his ability while Halliwell's writing languishes. They descend into a twisted caricature of a conventional married couple, with Orton as the "husband" and Halliwell as the selfless and ever more overlooked and disregarded "wife." This could be a state of affairs made worse by Orton's incapability or reluctance, in 1960s England, to accept having a male life partner. Maybe, maybe not.
The circumstance and descent of their relationship is heartbreaking, but what impresses me the most is the portrayal in and of itself, in the writing, in the acting. Joe Orton is an insatiable, fun-loving bottom boy with an artistic streak and from the start, he is most concerned with self-preservation, pleasure, materiality and substance. Without any self- doubt or feeling, Orton is inclined to exploit whoever would give him a leg up to a life of notoriety and privilege. When quiet, intellectual Halliwell endeavors to cultivate him, Orton takes advantage and Halliwell grows more compliant and eager to be immersed in the depths of his growing love for him.
Halliwell alludes to childhood, which he gives the impression of being less pivotal than it really was for him, having been disregarded by his father and coddled dearly by his mother. His mother's death when he was a young boy was surely an immensely damaging turning point in his life, as when his father committed suicide, he came downstairs and "put the kettle on, got dressed and called an ambulance, in that order." He gives to the deficit of his mother in the natural way he lives his life, seldom enforcing his will save for his impressively rare breaking points, but operating by going with the flow of his innate emotions. He is inclined to travel the wave of his feelings for Orton, unable to help his protective, nurturing nature from integrating itself into Orton's life, even if it provides Orton with a convenient safety net and Halliwell himself with never-ending jealousy, disdain and longing for affection of any kind.
"Prick Up Your Ears" was to be the title of one of Orton's plays. The name was suggested by Halliwell who had provided much of Orton's titles all through the successful portion of his career. The cruelty of Orton's aloofness is infuriating, and the effect it had on the outsized emotional state of Halliwell is widely known, and demonstrated at the very beginning of the movie. Orton seemed only ever concerned with the quality of his own existence and seemed to an almost surreal extent to lack feeling.
There is no true way of knowing how Gary Oldman and Alfred Molina interpreted these roles, how different they are from my interpretation and how similar they, or Alan Bennett's astute screenplay, are to the real people. Nevertheless, they deliver profound performances.