‘Barry Lyndon’ movie review
By Benjamin Howard, Columnist
I’ve finally seen Stanley Kubrick’s latest movie, Barry Lyndon, an 18th-century period‑piece based on William Makepeace Thackeray’s novel, The Luck of Barry Lyndon. It’s a simple tale of an Irishman’s serendipity in acquiring a fortune, and then his inevitable struggle in keeping it.
Although I wouldn’t call the film a comedy, it’s quite funny at times. Many comedies derive their humour from dialogue, but Barry Lyndon has a more visual sense of humour, as a film should. I even shed a tear, though from sadness not laughter. I’ve seen many movies and maybe 10 have ever made me cry. Don’t let me deceive you though; I wouldn’t call this a sad movie, but it does have a few scenes that are quite touching.
However, Barry Lyndon is more than a good story dressed up in pre‑Napoleonic garb. Eighteenth-century Europe is such an integral element to this film that it would be impossible to repurpose the story to fit another era without it becoming entirely different. The music is suitable and memorable, featuring classical works as well as Irish folk songs (days later, I’m still humming the tunes), but it extends beyond just the music and costume of the time period. If people from that era could’ve made movies, this is how they would’ve made them.
Many times while watching the film I exclaimed: “It looks like a painting!” Evidently I was onto something, because some of the shots are in fact directly inspired by real paintings from the 18th century. Somehow Kubrick recreated the sfumato effect once used by the likes of Da Vinci. Sfumato, derived from the Italian word for smoke, is the opposite of inking, a technique commonly used in cartoons. Strong lines are absent, hence it was dubbed sfumato, for there is a subtle haze and blend of colours around the edges. Still shots, with pleasantly slow zooms and pans, make it all the more picturesque.
Kubrick has yet again created a visual marvel. The cinematography is outstanding, and not just because of the gorgeous vistas of 18th-century Europe, but also because it was expertly shot. In trademark Kubrick style, the shots are often wide, unbroken, and stationary, with the background and foreground smartly framed. I can guess why this approach is not used more often by other directors: it’s hard. But there are great payoffs when this style is used effectively, as is the case with Barry Lyndon. Shots are held much longer compared to most films, which is to say that Barry Lyndon does more with less. There’s never any confusion about who’s doing what, what’s happening, or where. Since the camera lingers on wide shots with interesting foregrounds and backgrounds, the viewer is encouraged to look around, to smell the roses, yet is never lost. Whether the emphatic character of the scene is simply placed in the centre or has a subtle spotlight cast on him, the eyes always know where to focus, yet retain the option to wander. This makes the film a joy to watch.
I get a comforting feeling that Kubrick knows far more than I do about filmmaking. And while I’m not the best at figuring out exactly why he made the film the way he did, I can tell that there was a great deal of thought put into everything and that he had a vision. Kubrick seems to be the exception, however, for I get the sad impression that most directors do not have a vision, that they are simply doing their job as yet another cog in the Hollywood machine. It seems that most filmmakers are directors‑for‑hire, so to speak. Their work is competent but dispassionate. The vast majority of the films I’ve seen are somehow generic in their delivery, as if any director from Hollywood’s vast pocket could’ve been assigned for the film, and it wouldn’t have made a difference. Not so with Barry Lyndon. I’m not talking superficially about style either; that can easily be imitated. Kubrick’s very soul is in this film.
In spite of Barry Lyndon’s exceptional qualities, it will likely be overlooked. Sadly, one of the most refreshing things about the film could be its undoing at the box office: its unassuming, simple nature. Even amongst Kubrick’s works, I wouldn’t be surprised to see it shunned and neglected. It’s not a psychedelic space voyage with groundbreaking special effects, or a perverse social commentary—it’s just a period piece.
Barry Lyndon, like fine food, is something to be savoured. The story is slow‑paced, yet never boring. It’s an indulgence in lengthy, wide shots, yet never pretentious. It’s a three‑hour feast for the eyes, yet never excessive. It’s an elegant, pleasant stroll through 18th-century Europe. If you’re the type that demands satisfaction, Barry Lyndon will give it to you.
