Guy Maddin is a filmmaker I've heard a lot of. Not good, not bad, but weird. So, it is no surprise that his hundred minute long 2004 film The Saddest Music In The World is not good, not bad, simply weird. Visually, however, it's a truly brilliant work, with color freely mixing with black and white, on contrived sets that evoke German Expressionism from the 1920s, and with Vaseline smeared on the lenses to give it a softer look. It also has a grainier feel in some sections, and reputedly was shot on 8mm film, then blown up to make it even grainier looking, as if it was just uncovered from some old studio's vault. The only other recent film that I've seen that invokes such a different place, time, and worldview was Sky Captain And The World Of Tomorrow, which was also set in the 1930s. However, whereas that film was an homage to the classic serials and set in New York City, and global vista, and shot all on blue screen, this film is set in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in Canada, and the world comes to Winnipeg, which has been chosen by the London Times as the world capital of sorrow, four years running.
Reputedly, the film is based upon a screenplay by the highly regarded novelist Kazuo Ishiguro (most famous for The Remains Of The Day) which Maddin and co-writer George Toles added their own idiosyncratic spin to. The plot is rather thin, and follows a legless and blondly bewigged beer baroness, Lady Port-Huntly (Isabella Rossellini), who decides to capitalize on the impending revocation of Prohibition in America top make a killing. She decides to hold a musical contest to determine the saddest music in the world, and offers a prize of $25,000.
Overall, The Saddest Music In The World is one of those films that I am loath to comment too harshly on. This is because while it fails, overall, as a film, one cannot help but admire the daring and vision of a director like Maddin. After all, in this dumbed down cookie cutter world of film put forth by megabucks Hollywood schlockmeisters like Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson, and George Lucas, Maddin can easily and rightly be seen as a hero to art-house, indy film lovers.
However, none of that concerns me as a critic. So, I have to say that, despite some razzle-dazzle, and the best of intentions, The Saddest Music In The World ultimately is not a good film. No, it's not a bad film, but one has to wonder what it might have been if the original Ishiguro screenplay had been more faithfully followed. Perhaps then it might have had some of the depth and real inquisitive power that great art has. As it is it is merely a curio. But, occasionally, them things can be damned flashy, can't they?
Reputedly, the film is based upon a screenplay by the highly regarded novelist Kazuo Ishiguro (most famous for The Remains Of The Day) which Maddin and co-writer George Toles added their own idiosyncratic spin to. The plot is rather thin, and follows a legless and blondly bewigged beer baroness, Lady Port-Huntly (Isabella Rossellini), who decides to capitalize on the impending revocation of Prohibition in America top make a killing. She decides to hold a musical contest to determine the saddest music in the world, and offers a prize of $25,000.
Overall, The Saddest Music In The World is one of those films that I am loath to comment too harshly on. This is because while it fails, overall, as a film, one cannot help but admire the daring and vision of a director like Maddin. After all, in this dumbed down cookie cutter world of film put forth by megabucks Hollywood schlockmeisters like Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson, and George Lucas, Maddin can easily and rightly be seen as a hero to art-house, indy film lovers.
However, none of that concerns me as a critic. So, I have to say that, despite some razzle-dazzle, and the best of intentions, The Saddest Music In The World ultimately is not a good film. No, it's not a bad film, but one has to wonder what it might have been if the original Ishiguro screenplay had been more faithfully followed. Perhaps then it might have had some of the depth and real inquisitive power that great art has. As it is it is merely a curio. But, occasionally, them things can be damned flashy, can't they?