Bringing us back to the drab posh early 80's with a bump.
However this is set in the 70's with appropriate clothes and hair but shockingly limited unemotional dialogue that was probably the norm for British TV, pre watershed.
I don't think I ever met anyone who spoke like that and it was extremely hard to imagine such people displaying passion or love of any kind. Which is why, here, the subject of adultery came off as meaningless and as practical as going to the toilet.
It is hard to understand why Pinter was considered a playwright of substance when in real life he was despicable and his work was just as depressing and dull.
Yes, he managed to stretch an idea to 90 -120 mins of bitterness and maybe if you weren't a fan of Shakespeare , his was your go to for theatre at the time. Predictably his characters often feel like various versions of Only Fools and Horses - Dell boy. Desperate, devious and dirty.
But back to this movie. Irons comes across as soft and weak, Hodge is as stiff and flat as an ironing board and the too tanned Kingsley's psycho stare acting makes you hope this tale will have a texas chainsaw massacre ending to redeem itself. Unfortunately we are short changed. The closest we get to imagine lust existing in this uptight clipped accented world is Irons' 'drunken' witterings at the end and Hodge giving him a kiss and a smile a short while before that.
If someone could re write this today with actors who were able to convey emotion , it would be worth seeing, even if they chose to stick to the 70's background. But with people divorcing at the drop of a hat there would be nothing much to work against.
Pinter's trio deserve the misery and hopelessness they leave as the credits roll.
Major flaw - Hodge choosing to marry the fey Kingsley is incredulous and trading him in for a fling with the married family man Irons seems like a red herring fantasy.
Guess back then, as long as Pinter, the lady killer,could sell his alter ego to the BBC masses, the nihilistic view of marriage with a confused wife, kept the post war agenda intact.
However this is set in the 70's with appropriate clothes and hair but shockingly limited unemotional dialogue that was probably the norm for British TV, pre watershed.
I don't think I ever met anyone who spoke like that and it was extremely hard to imagine such people displaying passion or love of any kind. Which is why, here, the subject of adultery came off as meaningless and as practical as going to the toilet.
It is hard to understand why Pinter was considered a playwright of substance when in real life he was despicable and his work was just as depressing and dull.
Yes, he managed to stretch an idea to 90 -120 mins of bitterness and maybe if you weren't a fan of Shakespeare , his was your go to for theatre at the time. Predictably his characters often feel like various versions of Only Fools and Horses - Dell boy. Desperate, devious and dirty.
But back to this movie. Irons comes across as soft and weak, Hodge is as stiff and flat as an ironing board and the too tanned Kingsley's psycho stare acting makes you hope this tale will have a texas chainsaw massacre ending to redeem itself. Unfortunately we are short changed. The closest we get to imagine lust existing in this uptight clipped accented world is Irons' 'drunken' witterings at the end and Hodge giving him a kiss and a smile a short while before that.
If someone could re write this today with actors who were able to convey emotion , it would be worth seeing, even if they chose to stick to the 70's background. But with people divorcing at the drop of a hat there would be nothing much to work against.
Pinter's trio deserve the misery and hopelessness they leave as the credits roll.
Major flaw - Hodge choosing to marry the fey Kingsley is incredulous and trading him in for a fling with the married family man Irons seems like a red herring fantasy.
Guess back then, as long as Pinter, the lady killer,could sell his alter ego to the BBC masses, the nihilistic view of marriage with a confused wife, kept the post war agenda intact.