Withnail & I ***

When I formed my theatre company this year, I made a list of movies, books, and music that I wanted to encourage all our members to experience. I called it the Kick in the Gut list because I felt they were things that did that, they made a big and bold impression on you. Like that insurance commercial during the Super Bowl that everyone got so uptight about with the boy who listed his would-be accomplishments before telling us why he could not ever do them: he was DEAD!  Well, a lot of people were pissed at this, but to me, it was just a thoughtful piece of art that wanted to make you think and feel something.

Anyway, if I can make a list, you can too. And that's what one of our members, James, did over lunch one day. He gave me a list of films that I should see. And now I am in the process of seeing them, and when I do, I will write about them here. I may not always have a lot to say, but I will try to capture the way they made me feel because that is the important thing.

The first one I watched was the British comedy, Withnail & I, which I understand is now kind of a cult classic, and often quoted among British actors. Of course, Britain and America have very different artistic sensibilities. Often, they are not compatible. When America tries to remake a great British show (like Broadchurch), it tends to fall somewhat flat, even if they've managed to import David Tennant, star of the original show!  While I liked at least season one of Broadchurch, and Sherlock, and the recent sci-fi hit, Humans, a lot of British drama (and comedy), I can't get into. You can keep your Downton Abbey and your Monty Python, and probably your Dr Who as well, although I admit I've never given that a chance. I know a lot of people say British things get dumbed down for America, which suggests that Brits are smarter than Americans. Not sure I agree with that. (However, it's shocking how much better they do with book covers in England than in America, from Harry Potter to Jack Reacher.)

So in the opening minutes of Withnail & I, I was ready for an admittedly clever, but difficult ride through the nuances of British humor, of which I can seldom relate. Right off the bat, I couldn't stand Withnail as a character, and that never really changed. I understood that he was chronically unhappy, and seemed to have no ability to empathize with anyone. I much preferred the other character ("& I", if you will), who was also strung out and dysfunctional, but somehow infinitely more likable.

The series of comic mishaps that befall these out-of-work part-time actors and full-time slacker/drunks are certainly absurd and sometimes surreal. As they try to gather essential things for survival--wood for a fire, food, more booze--it's a wonder how they have ever survived at all by themselves. Some of the wacky situations are also quite true to life, like when Withnail's obese gay relative takes a rather tender yet pathetic liking to his young friend. I could relate; he was very cute indeed, which made his natural straight-guy aversion to male intimacy hit home in a way that went beyond the general comedic vibe of the film.

Which brings us eventually to the last 15 minutes of the movie, which--to me--redeemed the whole experience. I won't say what happens, cos I mean for this blog to be a discussion with people who have already seen the works being discussed. But suffice to say, this oddball movie ends in an extremely poignant and dramatic way that pertains to the sad fact that friends sometimes must go their separate ways. Sometimes you realize a relationship just isn't good for you anymore. And when that happens, the other person may feel "dumped" and hurt. Such is life. It's happened to me several times. But I admired the courage and determination it took for the character to break himself away from that which was unhealthy, and start to live for a change.

This movie was an autobiographical film, made by Bruce Robinson, based on his own reckless youth and relationship with a self-destructive friend, Vivian MacKerrell, who died in 1995. Although Robinson obviously looked back fondly on his friend, it seems almost like a betrayal of sorts to dramatize such sordid details of his existence. It makes me wonder if a friend of mine ever made a movie about us, how I might be depicted once I was gone.