The Draughtsman's Contract. (12.)
Directed by Peter Greenaway. 1982.
Starring Anthony Higgins, Janet Suzman, Anne Louise Lambert, Neil Cunningham and Hugh Fraser. Available to stream on the BFI Player with a subscription. 107 mins.
On its release in 1982 director Alan Parker described The Draughtsman's Contract as “a pile of posturing poo poo,” and, if memory serves, threatened to move to America is the BFI and Channel 4 kept funding such films. With any other BFI pet I'd probably agree, but Greenaway is a genius of British cinema. Granted, he's a cold, priggish, precious, snobbish, not-for-the-likes-of-you elitist genius of cinema but, well, I did specify British.
Few directors have explored and extended the possibilities of cinema as boldly or as widely as Greenaway whose work ranges from digital experimentation to filmed theatre. That said, his first (inadvertently) commercial project has all the attributes of a typical British film: it is a costume drama, a country house murder mystery and its dialogue is filled with wordplay and innuendo. Greenaway though views the past as more than a place where they wore pretty clothes and he feels no obligation to offer solutions to the mystery.
In the summer of 1696, a draughtsman (Higgins) is engaged to draw 12 pictures of a country house by the lady of the house (Suzman) as a gift for her husband. Initially reluctant, he agrees for the sum of £8 and her sexual favours. Despite his strict instructions for the condition in which each of the 12 vistas should be presented, he finds extraneous items – items of clothing, a ladder – appearing in his composition, details that will become evidence of wrongdoing.
The film introduces what would become recurring Greenaway themes: the examination of paintings for evidence of crimes and, Spoiler, a too-sure-of-themselves individual (usually male) being brought down by a conspiracy (usually of women) that they do not notice until the very end. Higgins' draughtsman is like a rock star, swaggering around in what looks to be leather trousers. If you close your eyes he does sound quite a lot like Richard Madeley – perfect for playing a man who isn't nearly as smart as he thinks he is.
Seen some 40 years on you can perhaps see where Parker was coming from. The clever, witty dialogue often comes across as smug and its immersion in the political and social issues of the time, though impressive, makes it that bit more insular. Greenaway is a demanding if absent-minded professor – he expects audiences to work hard to keep up but then overlooks certain key elements. In Contract, he provides a resolution without explaining the mystery.
Worst of all, there is the possibility that Greenaway invented the idea of the living statue. Popping up in the background of scenes he has a figure, (Michael Feast) usually naked, appear around the house posing as a statue or as a camouflaged part of a wall. He doesn't bear any connection to what is happening (apparently, in the original four hour cut of the film, his presence is explained), but possibly he plants the seed that would one day infest Leicester and Trafalgar Squares.
Directed by Peter Greenaway. 1982.
Starring Anthony Higgins, Janet Suzman, Anne Louise Lambert, Neil Cunningham and Hugh Fraser. Available to stream on the BFI Player with a subscription. 107 mins.
On its release in 1982 director Alan Parker described The Draughtsman's Contract as “a pile of posturing poo poo,” and, if memory serves, threatened to move to America is the BFI and Channel 4 kept funding such films. With any other BFI pet I'd probably agree, but Greenaway is a genius of British cinema. Granted, he's a cold, priggish, precious, snobbish, not-for-the-likes-of-you elitist genius of cinema but, well, I did specify British.
Few directors have explored and extended the possibilities of cinema as boldly or as widely as Greenaway whose work ranges from digital experimentation to filmed theatre. That said, his first (inadvertently) commercial project has all the attributes of a typical British film: it is a costume drama, a country house murder mystery and its dialogue is filled with wordplay and innuendo. Greenaway though views the past as more than a place where they wore pretty clothes and he feels no obligation to offer solutions to the mystery.
In the summer of 1696, a draughtsman (Higgins) is engaged to draw 12 pictures of a country house by the lady of the house (Suzman) as a gift for her husband. Initially reluctant, he agrees for the sum of £8 and her sexual favours. Despite his strict instructions for the condition in which each of the 12 vistas should be presented, he finds extraneous items – items of clothing, a ladder – appearing in his composition, details that will become evidence of wrongdoing.
The film introduces what would become recurring Greenaway themes: the examination of paintings for evidence of crimes and, Spoiler, a too-sure-of-themselves individual (usually male) being brought down by a conspiracy (usually of women) that they do not notice until the very end. Higgins' draughtsman is like a rock star, swaggering around in what looks to be leather trousers. If you close your eyes he does sound quite a lot like Richard Madeley – perfect for playing a man who isn't nearly as smart as he thinks he is.
Seen some 40 years on you can perhaps see where Parker was coming from. The clever, witty dialogue often comes across as smug and its immersion in the political and social issues of the time, though impressive, makes it that bit more insular. Greenaway is a demanding if absent-minded professor – he expects audiences to work hard to keep up but then overlooks certain key elements. In Contract, he provides a resolution without explaining the mystery.
Worst of all, there is the possibility that Greenaway invented the idea of the living statue. Popping up in the background of scenes he has a figure, (Michael Feast) usually naked, appear around the house posing as a statue or as a camouflaged part of a wall. He doesn't bear any connection to what is happening (apparently, in the original four hour cut of the film, his presence is explained), but possibly he plants the seed that would one day infest Leicester and Trafalgar Squares.
