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Known as "the painter of light," J.M.W. Turner created some of the world's most awe-inspiring artwork. His landscapes are by turns frightful and beautiful, and the same goes for Mr. Turner, Mike Leigh's exceptional biopic about the painter. It's a warts-and-all view of a frequently unpleasant man, as mired in the muck and disease of 19th-century England as in the arresting scenery that inspired Turner's art.
Leigh charts the last quarter-century of Turner's life, as he moved from producing fairly straightforward (and warmly received) work to more outré paintings. Plot is less of a concern than the sense of time passing as people move in and out Turner's world, and critical reception vacillates. The film is also marvelous to look at. Cinematographer Dick Pope captures the world as Turner might have seen it: In one scene, what appears to be a painting is actually a landscape flooded with overwhelming colors.
As Turner, Timothy Spall delivers a master class in grunts and groans—if the painter really was so loath to convey his feelings verbally, it's no wonder he took to the easel in the first place. There's little Turner wouldn't give to his art, including his own saliva. But spittle isn't the only violent force here. Nearly everyone is afflicted with some illness or another, and those who aren't suffer from survivor's guilt while mourning lost loved ones. Turner is an object of affection for his psoriasis-afflicted housekeeper (Dorothy Atkinson), whose face grows increasingly scarred as it becomes increasingly clear she's of little value to a man who uses her only for sex. Turner—who eventually develops a nasty cough of his own—is more interested in Sophia Booth (Marion Bailey), a twice-widowed innkeeper. Bailey gives a performance of remarkable sensitivity and grace. She's a center of warmth in a film that leaves many of its characters out in the cold.
Along with Big Eyes and Birdman,
this is another recent film in which art critics are elitist bores with
no real mind for what they're critiquing. The hoi polloi don't get off
any easier: "Mr. Turner seems to have taken leave of form altogether," a
shocked museumgoer says at the sight of one of his later, more
experimental works. But rather than looking down his nose at these
philistines, Leigh is more interested in how this criticism affected
Turner. He becomes an object of derision near the end of his career, a
punch line for vulgar stage acts. He's not unbothered by these parodies,
but he's steadfast in approaching his art in increasingly avant-garde
ways. And Mr. Turner works so well because Leigh makes every attempt to rise to Turner's level.
Critic's Grade: B+
SEE IT: Mr. Turner is rated R. It opens Friday at Cinema 21.
WWeek 2015