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Touches You

The first must-see film of the year.

The storyline feels a little thin and moth-eaten in parts but this sequel is plenty of fun.

One of the most extraordinary films you will see this year. Take that as you want.

I saw this movie at home more than thirty years after it was first made, and without the background to appreciate the director and his style of directing, which frankly got on my nerves. I also dislike "biographies" which take wild liberties with the actual facts of their subject's lives.But oh, the sets! Oh, the wardrobe! And most especially, oh, Nureyev!! Now lost to us due to AIDS, international ballet star Nureyev did well in this movie, over-acting and under-acting apparently per the director's instructions. Of course, every dance scene is exquisite. (I flinched at the reviewer here who burbled that golly, he's a better dancer than Al Pacino! Yes, dear; a moment on Wikipedia would tell you why.) And, given who and what Nureyev was, the nude scenes are exquisite, too, and plainly show a great deal of acting ability (neither over- nor under- ) on his part. Alas, the beautiful seduction scene in the tent has *talking*. Ah, had they only shut up! The grumpy, intrusive dialog is acidic enough to stifle the eroticism of the encounter. For that scene, one could wish this movie about the silent-film era were silent itself.Trivia: compare his nude photo shoot scene with the two women to the costuming by Bakst for Nijinsky in "Afternoon of a Faun." (Google all that to see pics.) I felt terrible when I missed the revival of the Bakst costumes and Nijinsky's choreography when "AoaF" came to my area in the early 1990s; the photo session scenes in this movie made me feel that at least, I have seen the Faun. This means that the director did the work to reproduce the 1912 original wardrobe over a decade *before* the same exhausting work was done for the 1990's revival.The rest of the movie was essentially one long jangle and blare, with artsy flashbacks and an early stab at what I guess might be magical realism, or something else disjointed, recursive, and melodramatic. In any case, it was enough to alienate me and I never did get fully into the narrative thread (narrative snarl?) of the film. So, five stars - raves for the settings and wardrobe and Nureyev, and just "eh" for everything else.

This film topped the British box-office for two weeks and in doing so made Ken Russell the most successful filmmaker in Britain in the 1970s. It was his fifth No.1 hit in that decade. Guy Hamilton had four No.1s (Bond films), Sam Peckinpah had three No.1s; no one else had more than two. Ken Russell also spent longer at Number one than Spielberg, whose two No.1 hits, Jaws and Close Encounters, failed to match the record set by The Music Lovers (1 week at No. 1); Devils (Eight Weeks at No.1); Tommy (14 weeks); Lisztomania (2 weeks) and this. Valentino is not one of Russell's masterpieces, but there are mightily glorious things to see here.

In the typical Ken Russell style,this film is definitely not an accurate,impartial,factual, Valentino biography,rather a very subjective and very artistic interpretation of how the director sees,feels,asserts Valentino's personality. Acting left me with mixed emotions-Rudolph(another famous,infamous,worshiped,controversial,fascinating,extravagant and much to soon dead Rudolph)Nurejew acts in a very uneven way,his part of Valentino being a strange combination of embarrassing flaws and very brilliant,highly artistic bits. At worst,Nurejew does not resemble Valentino's physical appearance(that's why the Franco Nero version,in spite of being artistically less accomplished,delivers a more credible Valentino,Franco Nero being a real Italian with real Italian accent),his accent is obviously Russian,some scenes are badly acted. On the other hand,Nurejew is credible as Valentino the dancer(the tango scene is superb,he dances even better than Pacino in the timeless scene from Scent of a Woman)and,being a homosexual,Valentino's supposed homosexuality(or homo-erotic tendencies),a much talked about but very uncertain supposition,is hinted without a clear yes or no through his acting. The story is told in a disrupted,Citizen Kane style:after Kane's death everyone who knew him tells his own story about how they knew the late;in this film,people gathered at Valentino's funeral recall several episodes from his life,each story representing a stage,a period in the meteoric rise from the penniless immigrant to the world's most famous and highest paid actor.But,like in Dorian Gray,the myth will eventually destroy its creator(in Velvet Goldmine,the luxurious rise and fall of a rock-star,will also remind of Oscar Wilde's timeless story). Everything in this movie is so roaring twenties:the elegant Rolls-Royces and other vintage cars,the lavish mansions(n.b. Falcon Lair wasn't even so opulent as depicted in the film,while the Garden of Allah,Nazimova's residence,is clearly a replica,because the real building was torn down in 1959),Valentino seems alive(and almost ready to burst into laughter)in his open coffin-even the way his body is displayed before the funeral looks chilling,theatrical and tastelessly glamorous:his very formal suit,his makeup,the flowers,the jewels,the fancy decorations,the marble hall,his opulently dressed and far too histrionic mourners(in a sharp contrast to that,the film closes showing the same dead body in an austere,bleak,utterly simple morgue,covered only by a blanket. The opening scene is impressive:the hysteric crowds bursting into the room where Valentino's body lies reminds-without going that far-of the unleashed masses in Day of the Locust-everyone seems to bitterly struggle to grab a piece of a holy relic. It is also interesting how the director puts into the film Valentino's poems or his famous boxing match,always at the verge between reality and legend;I particularly like the(most likely fictional) scene where a crowd of female admirers is loudly reciting Valentino's poem You in the garden of his villa-You is my favorite both among Valentino's poems and one of my favorite poems in general-,another highly poetic scene is when Natacha,his second wife is parallel seducing him and initiating him in the poetry of Omar Khayyam(actually,in spite of the quite revealing nude scenes together that show quite a lot of flesh,not only Nurejew was homosexual,but also he couldn't stand on-screen partner Michelle Phillips,the feeling being mutual,on the other hand the chemistry between the two of them and the magic of the flawless scenes together indicate how well this film is done to create such perfect illusion). In fact,you are left guessing,if-to quote Fitzgerald(another '20 legend,with meteoric&controversial rise&fall)he for real or just a character from his novels-everything isn't just an endless charade around masculine and feminine(in the jazz age both sexuality and fashion were ambiguous,androgynous,excessive,libertine,eccentric),around art and dazzling imagery. Undoutebly highly artistic(more than an inventory of luxurious settings without deeper meanings),not completely flawless yet all in all above average,this film is highly recommendable to every roaring twenties' nostalgic.

Ken Russell, the distinguished English director, gives us his own take on the legend of Rudolph Valentino, the legendary silent star. This biopic that Mr. Russell has written with Mardick Martin, doesn't deliver the promise of showing the man behind the fame. In a way, this is probably the interpretation of the writers, based on well known facts, no doubt. However, the film that one sees has an amateurish look, that has a lot to do with the casting of the title character: Rudolf Nureyev.Mr. Nureyev was an accomplished dancer. As an actor, either his style is not what one expected, or Mr. Russell's direction to the star was completely wrong. The end result is a picture much too long, but with the usual Ken Russell palette of rich colors and lush scenery. The traditional excesses of the director are present in the film, and while we don't care for this man the way he is presented, one can see Mr. Russell's exuberance all over the film. One can't help to wonder what picture would have been made with another actor in the title role. The film offers brilliant moments where Ken Russell shines, but the end result is uninteresting. At the end, Valentino, the man, remains an enigma.