Reviews

I was blown away by this rendering of Gluck's 18th century opera. It's not a film of an opera performance - there's no audience, and some of the action is away from the stage. The recording is based at the Baroque theatre in the castle at Cesky Krumlov, which is full of atmosphere, and the soloists are accompanied by the Prague orchestra and vocal ensemble Collegium 1704 and Collegium Vocale 1704, in traditional dress. I'm not an opera buff - I'm someone who enjoys the occasional trip to the opera, but I'm not qualified to evaluate this from a musical perspective, but can rather give my opinion on it as entertainment - which was superb. And perhaps all the better for encountering it from a position of ignorance.

I'd never seen this opera and had a vague idea of the story of Orpheus going to the underworld to retrieve his beloved Eurydice after her premature death, only to lose her again, when he disobeys the gods and turns round to look at her. I gather that Gluck cheered the story up by having the God, Amor, reprieving them so that they return triumphantly to Earth for a celebration. But in this version, things are more complicated - it becomes clear that Orfeo's initial complex emotional state is not just driven by grief, but also by guilt. And then, shockingly, at the end, having brought Eurydice back to Earth, he appears to fall rapidly out of love with her, when she parades around enjoying the company of others, and he stumbles away, heartbroken.

Like most opera plots, this is daft, but Bejun Mehta, who plays Orfeo, is a fantastic actor, and even before he opened his mouth, I was entranced by his performance, depicting conflicting emotions as he prepares for the funeral. When he did start to sing, I was astounded, as I had expected a traditional male voice, instead of which we had a very masculine-looking man singing in a soprano voice. (I realise opera buffs would not have been surprised by this, but I was!). But it was glorious. I gather he is perhaps the most famous counter-tenor in the world, and I can see why, as his voice has a richness and complexity that is quite unique.

There are just two female soloists: Regula Mühlemann, who plays the god Amore as a rather cheeky, sexy creature - which works well as a counterpoint to Orfeo's seriousness. And Eva Liebau is convincing as Eurydice - though much of the challenge of her part is lying around looking convincingly dead.

The whole setting is beautifully done - lavish costumes, dancing, candlelit scenes. Overall, this left a lasting impression and I was very glad I had found it.

The cinema where I saw this on its opening night had many empty seats, and those that were filled were mostly occupied by people who, like me, appeared 70 or over. For this age group, the pairing of Michael Caine and Glenda Jackson is magical - we remember them as beautiful people in the 1970s, he portraying casually charming rogues, and she as a prickly but strong and beautiful woman. As we've grown older, so have they, and they portray the fragility and limitations of old age unflinchingly. The wrinkles and wobbles are not disguised, and the contrast between the characters now and the scenes when they were young (played by Will Fletcher and Laura Marcus) is striking.

There is a scene where Jackson's character, Rene, who has been having "funny turns" and angina, discusses with her carer her short life expectancy - stressing the difference between how you treat life when you are young and how it feels when you are near the end. This has added poignancy if you know that Jackson died shortly after the film was completed.

The big risk for this film is that it will slide into sentimentality. The plot, based on a true story, is simple enough. 89-year-old Bernard decides to go to France for the 70th anniversary D-day celebrations, leaving Rene alone in the flat they share in a care home by the seaside. He didn't get tickets to join an official group, but decides to set off alone, without telling the staff at the home, leading to some concern at his disappearance. He makes it to Dover, boards a ferry, is helped by another man who is part of a group, and they make a sobering visit to a cemetery where both have a grave to visit. When Bernard's adventure is discovered, he becomes a brief media sensation. This modest tale is supplemented by flashbacks that save the film from mawkishness. They show, on the one hand, the strength of the early relationship between Rene and Bernard, forged in the uncertainty of war, and the demons that Bernard still struggles with from his experience at the D-day landing. Although this could have been a celebration of British heroism in war, it is much more an examination of how the horrors of war leave a mark on young men who were on the battlefield. This comes across most clearly when a young soldier who is helping at the event tells Bernard how much he admires him, and Bernard quietly tells him to stop that, and to get help for himself - recognising that the soldier is still affected by his own traumas.

Finally, the relationship between Rene and Bernard, married for 50 years but still devoted to one another, is heartwarming, and they do make it believable. Jackson and Caine are simply wonderful as old people who know how to live life to the full, despite the depradations of age.

For those of a sensitive disposition, I can confirm that, while forest fires play a key role in this film, it's not particularly frightening or gory. There are some spectacular shots of fire approaching, but not much among the flames. And if you are sensitive about depictions of sex, there's not much here to cause upset - you hear it but don't see it.

On the positive side, the plot ticks along nicely - you're never quite sure what will happen next to the two friends who rock up at a holiday home belonging to the mother of one of them, only to find she's forgotten to mention that a niece of a coworker will also be staying there. The central character, Leon, does a good job in depicting the loneliness that you can feel even when surrounded by other people - his friend Felix bonds with the other guest Nadja, and her boyfriend Devid, with things reaching a nadir when Leon's publisher visits and turns out to be far more interested in Nadja and Felix than in Leon's book. There's a particularly sad scene when Nadja, Felix and Devid play with illuminated frisbees at night while Leon lies on his bed looking out. The others try to be kind, but can't overcome his sense of rejection.

Another positive for me were the scenes of the forest, the beach, and the German seaside town - made me want to visit.

The main negatives were several big holes in the plausibility of the plot. First, the relationship between Nadja and Leon. Leon isn't repulsive, but he's not particularly attractive. That wouldn't matter if he had some wit or charm, sweetness or even artistic flair, but he seems sadly lacking in anything other than a misplaced sense that he is going to be a great novelist. Nadja, on the other hand is beautiful, clever and kind. It isn't surprising that Leon instantly falls for her, but it is implausible that she should reciprocate - particularly when her initial attempts to strike up a relationship are rebuffed. I didn't really feel that Leon's character developed, and his ultimate romantic success seemed due to the fact that everyone else had been killed off, rather than him becoming someone who had something positive to offer a woman in terms of empathy or emotional engagement.

Also, it turns out that the book he's writing is crap. Nadja tells him so - it clearly gives her no pleasure to do so, but she sees the need to be honest. And just in case the audience think she may have been overly judgmental, we are treated to an episode where the publisher visits and reads aloud quite long passages. This was pretty odd and as far as I could see, the only purpose of this episode was to demonstrate to the audience just how turgid Leon's prose was. I kept expecting the publisher to pause and provide a critique of a passage he'd read, but he just kept on and on. Why? Was he hoping that if he read Leon's words back to him, Leon would start to realise how tedious and plodding it was? Nevertheless, after further events, the publisher has a conversation in which he tells Leon to abandon this book, but passionately reassures him that his next book will be much much better. At this point in the story, there was no evidence that this was true, so I couldn't work out the motivation of the publisher - unless maybe he'd shelled out a large advance for the next book and was hoping something better might be possible. If I were a publisher, I'd run a mile from Leon.

Another creaking hole in the plot concerned the car that broke down at the start of the adventure and so was abandoned on the road. Why not stay put and flag down a passing vehicle? Or walk up the road to somewhere with a better mobile signal and call for help? Instead, the friends abandon the car but take their heavy cases with them on a trek through the forest to find the house. And when they go into town, they are told there is no garage that can help recover the car. Hmm.

Anyway, if you can suspend belief from time to time, this is a quite enjoyable study of young adult relationships, set in a picturesque region of Germany.