Alec Guinness was one of Britain's greatest screen actors, but "The Horse's Mouth" must count as one of his most eccentric projects. It appears to have been something of a labour of love as he not only starred in the leading role, but also wrote the screenplay, giving him the only screenwriting credit of his career. (I presume he was an admirer of the novel by Joyce Cary on which it is based).
Guinness here plays Gulley Jimson, an eccentric London-based artist. When we first see him, he is being released from a one-month sentence in Wormwood Scrubs (a notorious London prison) for harassing Mr Hickson, the President of the Royal Academy, who he believes owes him money. The plot is too complicated to set out in full, but it revolves around three main themes-Jimson's continuing persecution of the unfortunate Hickson, his attempts to recover one of his paintings from his ex-wife Sara and his destruction of the elegant flat of his patrons, Sir William and Lady Beeder, while trying to paint a mural on one of their walls.
I felt that there was a massive plot-hole at the centre of the film, which affected my enjoyment of it. (I have never read the novel so cannot say if the same problem exists there). We are asked to accept that Jimson is not only a talented artist- the paintings we see were actually painted by John Bratby, a noted painter at the time- but also a successful one. His works are collected by the rich and famous, he is given an exhibition at the Tate Gallery which proves an enormous popular success with queues around the block, and we are told that the painting in Sara's possession is worth £5,000, a much larger sum in 1958 than it would be today. Yet we are also asked to accept that he is in great financial difficulties and lives in poverty-stricken squalor in a decrepit old houseboat on the Thames.
Why? If one of Jimson's pictures was worth £5,000, he would only need to sell one a year to live in considerable comfort. (In 1958 many people had to manage on an annual wage of less than £1,000). If he managed to sell ten a year he would have virtually a millionaire's lifestyle. He may be eccentric, hard-drinking, crude and unmannerly, but artistic patrons are generally willing to overlook such defects in a man they consider a genius. The plot of the film might work if Jimson were to be portrayed either as untalented or as talented but unappreciated. It does not work to portray him as both talented and acknowledged as such.
This plot-hole was not my only problem with the film. I disliked the theme music, a loud and strident arrangement of Sergei Prokoviev's "Lieutenant Kijé", which probably had the composer rolling in his grave. (The task of arranging it was given, at the author's request, to his musician son Tristram Cary, a piece of nepotism which didn't pay off).
I also- and this is a rare thing for me to say- disliked Guinness's acting. He plays Jimson with what might be called a reverse falsetto, an unnaturally deep and gravelly bass voice, which made it seem as though he were suffering from an unpleasant throat complaint. He also made the character seem completely unsympathetic, when the intention was probably to make him a loveable rogue. This is not the worst performance by Guinness I have seen- that would be his turn in brownface as Professor Godbole in "A Passage to India"- but with the difference that Godbole is only a minor character in what is otherwise a reasonably good film. Here, Jimson is the main character, so Guinness's overacting adversely affects the film as a whole. This is also the worst film by Ronald Neame which I have seen, a director whose other work I have admired in films like "The Card" (also starring Guinness), "The Chalk Garden" and "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie". 4/10.
Guinness here plays Gulley Jimson, an eccentric London-based artist. When we first see him, he is being released from a one-month sentence in Wormwood Scrubs (a notorious London prison) for harassing Mr Hickson, the President of the Royal Academy, who he believes owes him money. The plot is too complicated to set out in full, but it revolves around three main themes-Jimson's continuing persecution of the unfortunate Hickson, his attempts to recover one of his paintings from his ex-wife Sara and his destruction of the elegant flat of his patrons, Sir William and Lady Beeder, while trying to paint a mural on one of their walls.
I felt that there was a massive plot-hole at the centre of the film, which affected my enjoyment of it. (I have never read the novel so cannot say if the same problem exists there). We are asked to accept that Jimson is not only a talented artist- the paintings we see were actually painted by John Bratby, a noted painter at the time- but also a successful one. His works are collected by the rich and famous, he is given an exhibition at the Tate Gallery which proves an enormous popular success with queues around the block, and we are told that the painting in Sara's possession is worth £5,000, a much larger sum in 1958 than it would be today. Yet we are also asked to accept that he is in great financial difficulties and lives in poverty-stricken squalor in a decrepit old houseboat on the Thames.
Why? If one of Jimson's pictures was worth £5,000, he would only need to sell one a year to live in considerable comfort. (In 1958 many people had to manage on an annual wage of less than £1,000). If he managed to sell ten a year he would have virtually a millionaire's lifestyle. He may be eccentric, hard-drinking, crude and unmannerly, but artistic patrons are generally willing to overlook such defects in a man they consider a genius. The plot of the film might work if Jimson were to be portrayed either as untalented or as talented but unappreciated. It does not work to portray him as both talented and acknowledged as such.
This plot-hole was not my only problem with the film. I disliked the theme music, a loud and strident arrangement of Sergei Prokoviev's "Lieutenant Kijé", which probably had the composer rolling in his grave. (The task of arranging it was given, at the author's request, to his musician son Tristram Cary, a piece of nepotism which didn't pay off).
I also- and this is a rare thing for me to say- disliked Guinness's acting. He plays Jimson with what might be called a reverse falsetto, an unnaturally deep and gravelly bass voice, which made it seem as though he were suffering from an unpleasant throat complaint. He also made the character seem completely unsympathetic, when the intention was probably to make him a loveable rogue. This is not the worst performance by Guinness I have seen- that would be his turn in brownface as Professor Godbole in "A Passage to India"- but with the difference that Godbole is only a minor character in what is otherwise a reasonably good film. Here, Jimson is the main character, so Guinness's overacting adversely affects the film as a whole. This is also the worst film by Ronald Neame which I have seen, a director whose other work I have admired in films like "The Card" (also starring Guinness), "The Chalk Garden" and "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie". 4/10.