Many American fans, like myself, who have seen
most of Ken Russells films, probably dont even know these biopics he did for
the BBC prior to his feature film career exist. And these six hour-long
documentaries collected on Ken Russell at the BBC may be his finest works.
Russell is well known for narrative features with revolutionary undertow such
as Women in Love, The Devils, and Tommy, a rock opera about the Who. The films
included on this three-disc set, all shot in black and white, are clearly
those in which Russell established his affinity for portraying iconoclastic
eccentrics, and each has its own experimental merit, stylistically and
conceptually. Though it is unfortunate that there is a proliferation of cheesy
re-enactments in todays film and television, one will be surprised to see how
brilliantly this pioneer did it. Each documentary, here, enlists actors to
portray the artistic luminaries of various historical periods. But the films
so keenly observe their characters behaviors, factually and poetically, that
one learns about Russells subjects on the sly, being entertained all the
while. Occasionally narrators tease their subjects by pointing out absurd
moments, reminding the viewer of documentarys subjective nature, and of the
humorous potential in many historical tales. The documentaries heighten their
subjects flair for drama, and take interpretive liberties to recount the
lives of those on screen. Impassioned explosions, nervous breakdowns, and
tragic calamities are the norm. Always on Sunday (1965) studies how genius is
manifest at great cost in Henri Rousseau, after the death of his wife and a
friendship with Surrealist colleague, Alfred Jarry. Dantes Inferno (1967)
depicts the Pre-Raphaelite set, focusing on Dante Rosettis fiery persona and
its negative effects on his muse, Elizabeth Siddal. In Isadora Duncan: Biggest
Dancer in the World (1966), the arts and crafts-era mistress of movement
maniacally travels the world in search of funding for her dancing schools.
Though the characters depicted are wildly different, they share blinding
passions and melodramatic means of achieving their ambitions. Many of these
films are narrated in the third person, but occasionally their subjects share
dialogue, elaborating the dramatic sense. Song of Summer (1968) is the
breakthrough, starring young composer, Eric Fenby (Christopher Gable), who
moves in with blind, paralyzed elder musician, Frederick Delius, to help
finish his scores. Third-person narration fizzles out early on to allow the
characters to speak about the need to create, even when handicapped. Delius
and Fenbys relationship strengthens as the two develop their music together,
and gorgeous landscape scenes, or scenes depicting high human emotions, roll
as soundtrack to the composers works as the film progresses. Heavily
dramatized, the only documentary aspect to this film seems to be Russells
dedication to tying film to music, by showing how Delius visualized his music.
Ken Russell at the BBC says as much about the quality of BBC programming
during the era as the directors unhinged imagination, and its a wonder to
view these films as precedents to what the BBC also pioneered a decade later
in the 1970s, namely the much more fact-based documentaries, hosted by
scientists and scholars like nature man, David Attenborough. Trinie Dalton