WITHNAIL AND I
written and directed by Bruce Robinson
Made in 1987
108 minutes long
Why
watch it?
Look to it for
strong set design, atmosphere and good use of poetic dialog (tasteful. Just enough - not too much). The film beautifully mixes a full range
of emotions – mania, depression, paranoia, joy, petulance - all set against a
drab and raining North London backdrop. The cinematography is bravely gloomy,
turning whatever might be luscious or scenic about London’s countryside into a
soaking dismal place. The
atmosphere and tone of the film is so strong and it effects the characters so
distinctly, I can’t help but be reminded of Jane Campion’s The Piano. The film also features stellar and very
quotable performances like Richard Griffith’s Uncle Monty and Richard E.
Grant’s Withnail.
Why
is it relevant?
With the imminent legalization of marijuana on the horizon,
and drug-politics in the news daily, it feels like suddenly everyone is talking
about drugs all the time. So when
better to indulge in a film that reminds us that everyone has always been
thinking about, talking about and taking tons of drugs all along.
I tend to avoid movies where getting high, drunk or
otherwise inebriated is not only the plot, but the punch line to all the jokes
as well. Stoner films like Half Baked
or the 100 plus minutes of mind-bending depression that was Requiem for a Dream
leave me feeling out of the loop.
They remind me of long nights clumsily but politely refusing to order
drinks – “water is good for me thanks” and eventually have to explain to the
wait staff “I’m not recovering, I just don’t like the to drink that much” While
Bruce Robinson’s Withnail and I is certainly of the genre, it only indulges in the
automatic comedy of inebriated mania occasionally, and when it does it is smart
and well written.
What’s it about?
Set in Camden Town in the late
1960’s and featuring songs like Jimi Hendrix’s All Along the Watchtower to
firmly place it in time with nostalgia, Withnail and I takes us back to an era
that we remember fondly but had the potential to suck terribly. Withnail and I displays for us -in all grey hues -exactly how
bad that drug-addled world could get.
The 1960’s were a turbulent time
and this film zooms into the co-dependant, slightly abusive, but totally
hilarious relationship of two mid twenty’s would be actors on a terrific bender
while waiting to hear back from auditions. The British backdrop gloomily
escapes the upbeat American Hippy tropes that are so prevalent in Hollywood
films from the time and because we aren’t in America the characters aren’t constantly
talking about Vietnam – a relief, but somehow (in a culture-centric kind of
way) the steady beat of the war drum seems missing. There isn’t much by way of
free love, happiness or the wandering political platitudes that we imagine
whenever one thinks of the late 60’s.
This film speaks the cynical, ambivalent language of Dennis Hopper’s
Easy Rider or John Schlesinger’s Midnight Cowboy. But funnier.
Richard Grant’s performance as the fast talking, lying, sneaking, yet
somehow charming Withnail is commanding and intimidating. A scene in which he fully covers
himself in lotion, vigorously rubbing it into his nipples, chugs the last of
the lighter fluid, pukes, and passes out cackling at the feet of roommate
Marwood, lets us know that Withnail is as uncouth as he is clever.
While there are stellar performances all around, Richard Griffith’s
Uncle Monty earns its reputation as the most mentionable character and shows
why his performance dominates the Withnail and I youtube search. Desperate for a healing holiday to
escape their drug addled existence the pair decide visit Uncle Monty with the
intention of securing a key to his cottage in the country. Uncle Monty is an erudite homosexual
who accosts the duo with innuendo moments after their arrival. Though Marwood is visibly
uncomfortable, Monty makes it clear that an extended visit and awkward company
is the cost of use of the cottage but the pair slip out the door and head for
the cottage while Monty is distracted.
This short introduction sets up Griffith’s brave and imposing
performance.
Neither the director nor the actor
hold back in portraying Monty as disturbing, invasive, piggish, especially when
Monty corners Marwood later at the cottage and says one of the films most
famous lines “I mean to have you even if it must be burglary”. While Monty has his charms he is
overwhelming and forceful in his lust for Marwood, and while the film offers
plenty of room for chuckles, these scenes aren’t any where near funny. They are purely awkward and nervous.
Withnail and I has achieved the
honored but dubious title of “Cult Classic” – a category I tend to avoid
attributing to a film in which the formal and cinematic quality should earn it a
place among more venerable films than the likes of Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. While its quirky and unusual duo make
their way through a the breath of London’s landscapes, the “us against the
world” humor reminds me sweetly of Harold and Maude’s unlikely pair. Its ceaseless madness and chaos
delivered in what sometimes feels more like prose than dialog predates Johnny
Depp’s film depiction of Hunter S. Thompson in Fear and Loathing. However being made in 1986, Thompson’s
influence seems apparent. Performances
like Ralph Brown’s Danny the Drug Dealer (google it) are so poetically written that, while certainly a stereotype, I couldn’t help but love the character. And while films about doing drugs can be equally trite, this one is anything but
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