The Wicked Lady (18.)
Directed by Michael Winner. 1983
Starring Faye Dunaway, Alan Bates, John Gielgud, Denholm Elliott, Glynis Barber, Oliver Tobias, Joan Hickson and Prunella Scales. 99 mins. Uncensored version out on DVD from Second Sight Films.
Though his enormous celebrity, his Winner's Dinners and calm down dear it's a commercial did wonders in obscuring the fact, never let it be forgotten that Michael Winner was a bad film director. Not bad in the sense that one objects to his mise-en-scene, or believe his symbolism to be overly contrived; no, not even bad in the sense that his films were morally repugnant and could drain you of all faith in humanity and leave you a dried out husk. (They were and they did, but that's largely incidental.) They were bad in the sense of being inept, being amateurish, being hard to believe he had ever done this before in his life. Watching his remake of a 1945 Gainsborough Studio romp it beggars belief that he'd been doing this for more than two decades, that he actually held a position of some prominense in the film industry. He was bad at the best of times and by this time he'd fallen in with Cannon Globus, the cheapskate purveyors of appalling 80s movies and the results are truly excruciating.
The Wicked Lady is a 17th century high born lady (Dunaway) who is bored with her marriage to a country lord (Elliott) and decides to get a bit of excitement into her life by posing as a notorious highwayman, Gerry Jackson. After some initial success she teams up with the actual Jackson (Bates.) The aim is an amoral and bawdy romp. The original, starring Margaret Lockwood, is one of the most successful films ever made in this country, when measured by bums-on-seats. What does Winner bring to this new version? Tits and bums mainly, all presented in the standard Carry On manner of being seen through cracks in the door, or exposed by a door being thrust open. It's big showpiece scene is a whipping match between Dunaway and a topless Marina Sirtis (the future Counsellor Troi on Star Trek: The Next Generation) which the BBFC wanted cut at the time and is still enough for the film to retain its 18 certificate.
All aspects of humanity were demeaned in a Winner film but nobody got it worse than actors. Perversely they seemed to love him: presumably during the shoot he kept them all well fed and watered, made sure they weren't left hanging around for too long while he set up a scene or annoyed them by giving them notes on their performance or doing multiple takes. He must have been great company and the making of the film a joy – but then they got to see what he had done to them. You can forgive everything looking cheaper than a Hammer TV production, the clumsy zooms shots and careless framing, but the way he abandoned his talented cast is a betrayal of Michael Gove proportions. Almost everybody looks like they are acting in a school play; Gielgud in particular is made to look like a ridiculous am dram ham in this. He must have seen this and thought back to the halcyon days working on Caligula, where the director Tinto Brass shot his performance with much more care and attention than is done here.
Winner was all about getting the job done, keeping the production moving and not getting bogged down. That's not a bad thing in itself: Clint Eastwood likes to get the film done in the minimum number of takes possible. The difference is that Eastwood gets it right most times. Winner was slapdash and careless. The Wicked Lady has possibly the single most embarrassing shot seen in motion picture. Right before the whipping scene, Oliver Tobias turns awkwardly to the camera and utters the line, “What's happening over there” and it is excruciatingly bad. Tobias may not be one of cinema's great thespians (though he's been making a go of it for nearly half a century and was in the Dad's Army movie this year) but surely he deserves better than to have one of his worst line readings preserved for posterity. Surely, Winner owed him the dignity of a second take? But then if Sirs and Hollywood movie stars weren't going to be looked after, why would he take any care with the star of The Stud?
Directed by Michael Winner. 1983
Starring Faye Dunaway, Alan Bates, John Gielgud, Denholm Elliott, Glynis Barber, Oliver Tobias, Joan Hickson and Prunella Scales. 99 mins. Uncensored version out on DVD from Second Sight Films.
Though his enormous celebrity, his Winner's Dinners and calm down dear it's a commercial did wonders in obscuring the fact, never let it be forgotten that Michael Winner was a bad film director. Not bad in the sense that one objects to his mise-en-scene, or believe his symbolism to be overly contrived; no, not even bad in the sense that his films were morally repugnant and could drain you of all faith in humanity and leave you a dried out husk. (They were and they did, but that's largely incidental.) They were bad in the sense of being inept, being amateurish, being hard to believe he had ever done this before in his life. Watching his remake of a 1945 Gainsborough Studio romp it beggars belief that he'd been doing this for more than two decades, that he actually held a position of some prominense in the film industry. He was bad at the best of times and by this time he'd fallen in with Cannon Globus, the cheapskate purveyors of appalling 80s movies and the results are truly excruciating.
The Wicked Lady is a 17th century high born lady (Dunaway) who is bored with her marriage to a country lord (Elliott) and decides to get a bit of excitement into her life by posing as a notorious highwayman, Gerry Jackson. After some initial success she teams up with the actual Jackson (Bates.) The aim is an amoral and bawdy romp. The original, starring Margaret Lockwood, is one of the most successful films ever made in this country, when measured by bums-on-seats. What does Winner bring to this new version? Tits and bums mainly, all presented in the standard Carry On manner of being seen through cracks in the door, or exposed by a door being thrust open. It's big showpiece scene is a whipping match between Dunaway and a topless Marina Sirtis (the future Counsellor Troi on Star Trek: The Next Generation) which the BBFC wanted cut at the time and is still enough for the film to retain its 18 certificate.
All aspects of humanity were demeaned in a Winner film but nobody got it worse than actors. Perversely they seemed to love him: presumably during the shoot he kept them all well fed and watered, made sure they weren't left hanging around for too long while he set up a scene or annoyed them by giving them notes on their performance or doing multiple takes. He must have been great company and the making of the film a joy – but then they got to see what he had done to them. You can forgive everything looking cheaper than a Hammer TV production, the clumsy zooms shots and careless framing, but the way he abandoned his talented cast is a betrayal of Michael Gove proportions. Almost everybody looks like they are acting in a school play; Gielgud in particular is made to look like a ridiculous am dram ham in this. He must have seen this and thought back to the halcyon days working on Caligula, where the director Tinto Brass shot his performance with much more care and attention than is done here.
Winner was all about getting the job done, keeping the production moving and not getting bogged down. That's not a bad thing in itself: Clint Eastwood likes to get the film done in the minimum number of takes possible. The difference is that Eastwood gets it right most times. Winner was slapdash and careless. The Wicked Lady has possibly the single most embarrassing shot seen in motion picture. Right before the whipping scene, Oliver Tobias turns awkwardly to the camera and utters the line, “What's happening over there” and it is excruciatingly bad. Tobias may not be one of cinema's great thespians (though he's been making a go of it for nearly half a century and was in the Dad's Army movie this year) but surely he deserves better than to have one of his worst line readings preserved for posterity. Surely, Winner owed him the dignity of a second take? But then if Sirs and Hollywood movie stars weren't going to be looked after, why would he take any care with the star of The Stud?