Sir Henry at Rawlinson End

a joy in the possibilities of word, syntax and imagery

Film Review by Margaret Kirk | 12 Nov 2006
Film title: Sir Henry at Rawlinson End
Filmed in 1980, 'Sir Henry at Rawlinson's End' was dated even at the time of its release. Conceived by Vivian Stanshall of The Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, it revels in complex wordplay, awkward monochrome cinematography, eccentric characters and dense symbolism. In a decade about to succumb to terse post-punk and New Romantic glitz, it was nostalgic, recalling the enthusiasms of the 1960s.

The plot - an exorcism of Sir Henry's brother's ghost from the ancestral home - is an excuse for an extended meditation on the class structure of post-war Britain and a bravura display of linguistic dexterity. Never easy, it adapts Joycean word-play into an oblique allegory, maintaining a casual, bleak humour throughout surreal episodes. A defrocked priest, a murderous Lord who finds peace when dressed as a racist vision of an African woman, German prisoners of war, a cynical spiv, an aristocratic family that has succumbed to insanity, and the decaying Rawlinson's End itself: all these are worked into a hysterical whole.

Fans of psychedelic art will adore it. Against modern Hollywood comedy, it is obscure, literate, charming and sophisticated. Like Stanshall's music, it takes a very English tradition and imbues it with a singular vision. The soundtrack, fusing folk idiom to a unique sensitivity, is a playful pleasure. The spoken narrative evinces a joy in the possibilities of word, syntax and imagery. Trevor Howard's performance as the titular Lord is a tour de force of unacknowledged insanity; the supporting cast provides exquisitely understated caricatures.

The film is a mass of contradictions, and its idiosyncratic approach ensures that it will remain a cult attraction. It is a lost gem of British cinema: an absurd, confident, witty satire. [Margaret Kirk]
digital classics dvd. Out now.