458
PARTISAN REVIEW
imprisoned the spectator along with the characters, dispensing with the
whole social framework of their lives. These were suffocating one-note
stories intent on rubbing our noses in human misery. At the other
extreme, there were more than enough knuckleheaded comedies, action
movies, and soporific melodramas. But it is no longer true, as it was
until a few years ago, that Hollywood is making movies only for kids
and retarded teenagers. Once again there is a fertile middle ground of
stories that are appealing and accessible yet far from predictable.
Unlike mainstream movies of the past, these films belong to no ready
genre. Or else they turn a genre inside out, as Leigh's
Topsy-Turvy
deconstructs the standard biopic by injecting a strong dose of emotional
reality. Yet they are not self-conscious about moviemaking (in the New
Wave manner) or ironic about it (in the tongue-in-cheek style of the
minimalists of the 1980s). Above all, these films could be more down–
beat, more honest, and more elliptical than most commercial movies of
the recent past.
In
musical biographies, especially period pieces, the
backstage drama is little more than fluff or filler to showcase the actual
performances. The players seem as much in costume in their own lives
as they are on the stage.
Topsy-Turvy,
on the other hand, deals with per–
sonality clashes and deep insecurities that are also creative tensions,
problems in making art. These relationships reflect the stresses in any
performing group, including the troupe of Mike Leigh regulars making
the movie. Leigh is much more interested in the rehearsal scenes than in
the finished work, for he wants to show how individual quirks are dis–
ciplined into seamless performance.
Combining brutal sarcasm with perfect British decorum, Gilbert
browbeats the players into realizing his vision, as Sullivan cajoles his
musicians with ironic deference. The behind-the-scenes drama of this
collective effort is something every theatre professional will recognize.
Leigh has chosen to explore his own creative life by taking an unlikely
route through the Victorian era. Nothing could be more typically Vic–
torian than the G
&
S operettas, yet (in sometimes fusty versions) they
continue to have wide currency.
In
Topsy-Turvy
the moment is 1885,
on the cusp of the modern, with novelties like telephones and fountain
pens, yet still at the zenith of Victorian power and manners. Gilbert
himself, as played by Jim Broadbent, radiates indelible self-assurance,
even when his restive partner berates his work. But his stentorian
voice, frigid impatience with his neglected wife, and imperious cour–
tesy towards colleagues and actors are the kind of bluster that masks
inner uncertainties. Sullivan's feline charm and gregarious, pleasure–
loving manner cover a steely will. Their temperamental differences are
