Cinema
Insignificance (`15' , Odeon Haymarket)
Time after time
Peter Ackroyd
It is always difficult to know what Nico- las Roeg will do next; with such films as The Man Who Fell to Earth, Don't Look Now and Bad Timing he has proved himself to have the great merit of unpredic- tability — and this not because he is a dilettante, uncertain of which fashion to follow, but because he is a genuine artist whose range of concerns is continually expanding. And yet Insignificance still seems an odd development since, like Robert Altman, Roeg has willingly aban- doned the cinematic exuberance of his previous films in order to explore the constraints of what is essentially a theatri- cal experience.
This latest film is in fact based upon a stage play (and has been adapted from it by the original writer, Terry Johnson) and, as a result, it is something of a conversation piece to which Roeg has added what might in other circumstances be called the 'sub- text' of his own preoccupations. The ori- ginal material was certainly quirky enough to afford Roeg ample room for man- oeuvre, since the conversations in question are by no means ordinary ones: Marilyn Monroe discourses on the theory of relativ- ity with Albert Einstein (most of the action takes place in a New York hotel room, the year being 1954); Einstein and Joe Di Maggio discuss the nature of fame; Senator Joseph McCarthy tries to persuade Ein- stein to appear before the un-American Affairs Committee, and then assaults Mon- roe whom he mistakes for a prostitute. This yoking together of heterogeneous celebrities is of course a familiar conceit in literature and even in painting (although Landor's imaginary conversations are perhaps more tame), but the device here is less important than the uses to which it is put. Roeg takes the scenario, and then proceeds to animate it with his own ob- sessions — time, sexuality and the nature of memory being just three in a narrative which begins with a stopped watch and ends with the apocalypse.
And as in all of Roeg's films there seems to be a constant element of mystery about to break through; this has less to do with the ostensible theme, although the con- gregation of these four unlikely people is peculiar enough to produce some interest- ing effects, than with his ability to use disparate images (suddenly flashed upon the screen) as a way of breaking open the ordinary narrative. As a result there is no one quite like him for creating surprising effects and, by consistently enlarging the boundaries of the 'plot' through skilful editing, for constructing a multiple illusion in which his characters are both real and hallucinatory. To watch his films, then, is to exercise the understanding as well as the eyesight — although this does mean that those who are discomfited by anything other than spectacle may find it difficult to be enchanted by his use of the medium.
But perhaps not as difficult as all that, since he is well served by his cast. Tony Curtis, who is ageing at much the same speed as Alain Delon, is also, like the French actor, continually expanding his range as a performer — his portrayal here of Senator Joe McCarthy may bear only a fleeting resemblance to that politician but Curtis himself cannot be surpassed in his tones of oleaginous threat. Theresa Russell does not look exactly like Marilyn Monroe — she doesn't really sound like her, either — and there were times when she was straining so hard she came close to carica- ture; but she grew more convincing as the film progressed, so that by the time she was expounding the theory of relativity she had acquired a character of her own. Michael Emil as Einstein made the best of what was by any standards a difficult part (how do You act intelligence?), and Gary Busey was an excellent Joe Di Maggio. Certainly it was not his fault that some of the baseball player's reminiscences were less than fasci- nating, but the fact that they were included suggests that a certain sentimentality was creeping into the film itself — as so often happens with artists who work on an intellectual or theoretical level, Roeg has an appetite for melodrama or sentiment which is sometimes at odds with his more formal concerns.
But if there was a problem with the film, it has less to do with the picture itself than with the material from which it was derived — not because the original play was too slight to be suitable for the treatment which Roeg lent it, but because it was too constricting (almost too 'cute') to be altogether the right vehicle for his con- cerns. But this is essentially a minor Complaint, since Insignificance is by any standards an interesting film: It may not win Roeg many new admirers, but it will entertain those enthusiasts who believe him to be perhaps the most inventive of contemporary film-makers.
Previous page
