Ode to the Underrated: Ken Russell and ‘The Music Lovers'

Forgotten and underrated – two words which could be used to describe some of Ken Russell’s best films.

Moreover, Ken Russell’s films tend to be reduced to a few things: Catholicism and its iconography; Nazis and their iconography; naked women, nudity and sex in general; classical music; and an over-the-top style. But there is far more to this important director than a bingo card of “Russell-isms” to be dutifully ticked off as you watch.

The Music Lovers, the film of this month’s Ode to the Underrated, only ticks off three of the above – classical music, nudity (and there isn’t that much of this) and an over-the-top style – and so is a good example of why reducing his film to these things is ridiculous. It’s also, in my opinion, a forgotten and deeply underrated film.

Released in the same year as The Devils – 1971 (a busy year for Ken, The Boy Friend was also released) – it has perhaps remained in its shadow. Arguably, all of Russell’s filmography is in the shadow of The Devils, so that’s no unusual thing. There’s a good reason for that – it is a masterwork and caused a lot of controversy (see Catholicism, nudity and an over-the-top style). But I believe his other films deserve as much praise as his supposed magnum opus - The Music Lovers most of all.

Russell’s later films – Gothic, Salome’s Last Dance, The Fall of the Louse of Usher – suffer from a lack of budget and backing. However, they’re not nearly as poor as some people tell you and are, in actual fact, quite enjoyable films. His more American films of the late 70s and early 80s – Valentino, Altered States (excluding Crimes of Passion) – suffer from a lack of control over the film production. People will frequently say Altered States is one of the best Russell films, but in fact it is the least Russellian of the Russell films - it's watered down and has a dreadful ending. In my opinion, while it is probably his most palatable film, aside from maybe the Oscar winning Women in Love, it is actually his least interesting work.

In the 60s and early-to-mid 70s, then, Russell was at his creative peak, directing Delius: The Song of Summer, The Debussy Film, The Devils, Tommy and The Music Lovers.

Based on the life story of Tchaikovsky, The Music Lovers starts with a bombastic opening of spinning camera work, packed crowds and lots of colour and noise. Tchaikovsky (Richard Chamberlain) and Count Anton Chiluvsky (Christopher Gable) – his lover – are drunk and messing around amongst the celebrations. They spend the night together, and presumably mess around a little more.

Meanwhile, Glenda Jackson’s Nina – a character who for a while seems to exist completely outside of Tchaikovsky’s life but who will soon play an integral part of it – follows a young soldier she has never met before and claims to love.

Later, in a kitsch and melodramatic sequence which blends flashbacks, dreams and Tchaikovsky performing at a concert, we come to understand Tchaikovsky’s love for his sister, as well as being introduced to Nadezhda von Meck (Izabella Telezynska) who becomes his patron.

After being brutally raped and abused by the young soldier and after watching Tchaikovsky perform and becoming enamoured with him and his music (is there a distinction?), Nina writes to Tchaikovsky claiming to be in love with him despite not having met. This parallels, incidentally, the story of an opera Tchaikovsky is composing. He writes back and they marry. Count Chiluvsky is unimpressed as he wants Tchaikovsky to be honest and himself.

Fighting his secret homosexuality, which would ruin his career, as well as the haunting memory of the death of his mother from cholera, his marriage becomes a horror – driving both him and Nina to the depths of despair.

Biopics are arguably one of the film genres – along with war films and romantic dramas – that bring in large audiences but rarely merit critical acclaim. Nowadays, one is seemingly announced or released every week, normally about people who frankly don’t deserve them. Or they’re about people who do, but they are denied a film worthy of them. It would be easy to look back with modern day cynicism and write off The Music Lovers as another casualty of this frustrating genre.

Biopics often go wrong in their inability to capture the idea and essence of the subject. They, and the audience, get bogged down in historical accuracy or in trying to make the nasty bits appealing. This is where The Music Lovers marks itself out from the rest. Russell paints a portrait of Tchaikovsky, fuelled by an understanding of the man’s inner turmoil, bits of his life built from research – it’s based on a collection of letters – and, most importantly, his music. He doesn’t depict each minute detail of his life with a scientific accuracy. He uses Tchaikovsky’s music to inform the story, the emotions and the way it’s all put together.

In this aim, Russell is of course aided by a suberb cast. Richard Chamberlain gives a strong central performance, receding into himself or bursting out explosively when necessary. Ken Colley, known mostly for Performance and Star Wars (an impressive variety), is a great supporting actor.

It is Glenda Jackson’s standout performance, however, that truly steals the show. Her sensibility and Russell’s are a potent match – she won an Oscar for her role in Women in Love. She was an intense performer (see Marat/Sade, 1967, dir. Peter Brook), and she is no less formidable here, contorting both body and voice to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Her depiction of the troubled Nina is spectacular, most notably in her final scenes which combine perfectly with Russell’s flair for excess, discomfort and bad taste.

The Music Lovers, then, merits recognition as the equal of The Devils – the work most commonly hailed as Russell’s magnum opus. It is equally as uncomfortable in places with images that stick in the mind, most notably the final scenes of Nina in the psychiatric hospital (can that be called a hospital?), or Tchaikovsky’s hallucination of his dying mother in the bath which makes great use of silence and a sudden cut. It’s equally as complicated as The Devils, dealing with the struggle of personal acceptance, the weight of memory and the torment of artistic creation. And it’s equally as flamboyant.

Along with the rest of his filmography, The Music Lovers cannot – and should not – be reduced to a handful of familiar Russell-isms. That said, it’s a shame I couldn’t quite complete my Ken Russell bingo card.

Article by Toby Bula-Edge