I�ve been a Sally Potter fan ever since I saw her excellent Thriller, which is close to unwatchable for two reasons; it�s very very oblique and artsy, and the nearest copy to me is about four counties away. Orlando, her most celebrated effort, is a lot easier to lay hands and brains on. Virginia Woolf will have to wait before I can really do this film justice, because I haven�t yet read the book. And down at feminists-R-us, that makes you VERY small fry.
Beautiful, androgynous Orlando is granted an extended youth which stretches from his days as Queen Elizabeth I�s favoured courtier to the present day. The film follows his career as he goes through stages of being a poet, an ambassador, gentry� and a woman. This change happens just after he has been knighted, and she returns to Regency England festooned in crinolines and bows.
I now have something of a crush on Tilda Swinton, who with her soulful eyes, deadpan delivery and perfect skin, manages to leave one dry-mouthed with captivation. She is also fascinatingly not-right as a man nor as a woman, leaving the central questions of gender and sex dangling tantalisingly, while making Hollywood�s hyped gender representations seem comparatively plastic.
Polite English society being what it is, her sex change and absurd longevity are discreetly ignored, but as a woman she cannot hold property and is disinherited. The story itself seems to anticipate magical realism in its artless disregard to fundamental givens like sex and, er, death.
Beyond the endless gender-studies interpretations we can make, this is a visually and aurally gorgeous film, despite Jimmy Somerville�s frankly bizarre appearance as a gold lame�d angel in the final scene. It looks like one of those compilation tapes: the best period drama video in the world� ever!, but beyond that, its story is lightly and wittily told. It�s made perfect by the fact that Swinton can deliver more combined style and depth in one heart-stopping glance or swift comment aimed directly at the camera, than most actors can give in a full-blown rendition of Hamlet�s soliloquy. |
