What a bold film with which to launch your new production company! This is anything but typical, a truly dense and complex story that explores the dark corners of the human psyche with unmistakable style and impact.
Johnny Depp's Earl of Rochester walks a tightrope in this story, between the threat of being crushed by his own excesses and becoming a caricature of the British aristocracy's lifestyle attitudes during this time period. He leans dangerously close to falling at numerous points within the story, until finally suffering a doom that is best described as a combination of both.
Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of this film - quite a compliment considering both the production design and acting - is the complexity of the dialog, which weaves a wonderful ambiguity around practically all of the major characters and prevents the audience from "categorizing" any of them. Depp's Earl is equally charming and revolting, confident and terrified, likable and despicable. John Malkovich's king is just as complicated, at times genuinely concerned for his friend while never failing to consider how his deeds and decisions will inevitably reflect on his legacy as a ruler. Samantha Morton gives a tour-de-force performance as the actress who steals the Earl's heart, yet recognizes the danger of giving herself completely to a man who consumes all within his grasp to such excess. A dash of comic relief is vital to survive such a raw and intense journey, and comes courtesy of the Earl's manservant Allcock.
The Libertine is certainly not a typical commercial period piece, in which the aristocratic lifestyle is glamorized and romanticized. Instead, the muddy boots and somewhat-less-than-housebroken dogs within this telling add tremendously to its overall feel of edginess and the impending hangover of despair brought on by overindulgence and excess. Bravo to the Weinsteins for picking such a complex piece of film art with which to launch their latest venture.
Johnny Depp's Earl of Rochester walks a tightrope in this story, between the threat of being crushed by his own excesses and becoming a caricature of the British aristocracy's lifestyle attitudes during this time period. He leans dangerously close to falling at numerous points within the story, until finally suffering a doom that is best described as a combination of both.
Perhaps the greatest accomplishment of this film - quite a compliment considering both the production design and acting - is the complexity of the dialog, which weaves a wonderful ambiguity around practically all of the major characters and prevents the audience from "categorizing" any of them. Depp's Earl is equally charming and revolting, confident and terrified, likable and despicable. John Malkovich's king is just as complicated, at times genuinely concerned for his friend while never failing to consider how his deeds and decisions will inevitably reflect on his legacy as a ruler. Samantha Morton gives a tour-de-force performance as the actress who steals the Earl's heart, yet recognizes the danger of giving herself completely to a man who consumes all within his grasp to such excess. A dash of comic relief is vital to survive such a raw and intense journey, and comes courtesy of the Earl's manservant Allcock.
The Libertine is certainly not a typical commercial period piece, in which the aristocratic lifestyle is glamorized and romanticized. Instead, the muddy boots and somewhat-less-than-housebroken dogs within this telling add tremendously to its overall feel of edginess and the impending hangover of despair brought on by overindulgence and excess. Bravo to the Weinsteins for picking such a complex piece of film art with which to launch their latest venture.