Directed by Anand Tucker | Written by Patrick Marber, based on the novel Curtain Call by Anthony Quinn | 101 min | ▲▲▲ | on Kanopy
A version of this review appeared in FITI during the Toronto International Film Festival 2023.
A film to luxuriate in — Anand Tucker (Hilary and Jackie, Shopgirl) returns with a period melodrama of overlapping desire and tragedy set in London’s theatreland in the mid-1930s. Ian McKellen in fine form is Jimmy Erskine, the much-feared theatre critic of the title who after 40 years of rampant bullying feels more powerful than the right-wing rag he writes for.
When the paper’s publisher dies, his son, Viscount David Brooke (Mark Strong in a questionable wig) takes over and crosses swords with Erskine, demanding less venom in his reviews and to curb his habit of picking up “trade” in the park, neither of which Erskine wants to do. The film touches upon the rise of fascism and intolerance in the 1930s, but doesn’t linger long in those themes.
Instead, after a very public arrest, Erskine is fired. He makes a faustian deal with a struggling actor, Nina Land (Gemma Arterton). He’ll make her a star with glowing reviews in his final few weeks if she shows some affection toward his married publisher, a little blackmail in the wings to help secure his future employment.
This deal will bring darkness upon her, her artist ex-lover (Ben Barnes), Erskine’s private secretary, Tom Turner (Alfred Enoch), as well as the newly risen newspaper magnate. On the outskirts of this melodrama, Lesley Manville and Romola Garai lurk in support, but unfortunately don’t have too much to do.
The picture starts as a charming, borderline comic tale of cunning manipulation, but as we go along it swirls down the drain into a muddy, murky river of heartbreak, shame, and suicide. The version I saw at TIFF two years ago has gone through a few reshoots, changing the ending after audiences at the festival found the original too bleak. The particulars are a little fuzzy in my memory, but I don’t think this less brutal new version is much of an improvement. However, The Critic is still a trip — gorgeous to look at, shot with a conscious and impressive use of deep shadow and saturated colour. It’s compelling drama, committed to its mood.
At its dark heart, it offers yet another occasion for audiences, and critics, to say with conviction: “Nobody but McKellan could’ve played this part.” The man who was both Gandalf and Magneto is fantastic as Erskine — both cruel and charming in equal measure. If the film sputters a little in the homestretch, he makes it all worthwhile.
