Tom Kempinski’s hit play about the violinist struck down by multiple sclerosis makes only a half-successful film in 1986.
The half success is the story itself and Julie Andrews’s surprisingly acute performance in the main part, a subtle display of being both tough and touching.
So it is all the more disappointing that the normally very decent actors around the star let her down. It is sad to watch Alan Bates as the unfaithful husband, Rupert Everett as the protegé genius Constantine Kassanis, her favourite pupil who decides to leave for an American tour, and Liam Neeson as Andrews’s cockney dustman lover as they compete for the film’s most embarrassing performance.
The rest of the film’s downside is the fumbled (though necessary) opening out of the play and Andrei Konchalovsky’s ill-at-ease direction in a setting that he does not seem to understand properly. Max von Sydow is his usual noble self as Dr Louis Feldman, the psychiatrist Stephanie Anderson (Andrews) goes to for help. The play was just a two-hander between these characters, so you see the need for the opening out.
The screenplay is by Kempinski, Konchalovsky and Jeremy Lipp, the film is shot by Alex Thomson, produced by Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus for Cannon, and designed by John Graysmark.
Also in the cast are Margaret Courtenay, Macha Méril, Siobhan Redmond, Sigfrit Steiner, Janette Newling and Cathryn Harrison.
Rupert Everett recalls: ‘I borrowed a jacket from Adam Ant and modelled my character on the latest prodigy on the violin scene, a rockabilly called Nigel Kennedy. I developed a quiff and a nasal Bromley twang, wore my costume at home and at work, and never came out of character.’
© Derek Winnert 2017 Classic Movie Review 6473
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