The Music Lovers, Ken Russell’s mad fantasia on the life of Russian composer Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, is fairly useless as a biographical film of its subject, but in terms of a splendid albeit unusually bizarre and sometimes even grotesque entertainment, it’s hard to match. “Over the top” is an expression that hardly does justice to Russell’s approach to this biographical cacophony, but the glorious music on the soundtrack coupled with enough surreal, captivatingly staged and shot sequences make this an unforgettable movie experience. If you can stomach Russell’s admittedly no-holds-barred cinematic technique, The Music Lovers is decidedly eye-popping.
The Music Lovers (MGM MOD)
Directed by Ken Russell
Studio: MGM/UA
Year: 1971
Aspect Ratio: 2.35:1 anamorphic
Running Time: 124 minutes
Rating: R
Audio: Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo
Subtitles: none
MSRP: $19.99
Release Date: available now
Review Date: October 30, 2011
The Film
4/5
Homosexual composer Peter Tchaikovsky (Richard Chamberlain) is cautioned by his brother Modeste (Kenneth Colley) that he must not be so brazen in public with his lover Count Anton Chiluvsky (Christopher Gable). With his latest composition getting mixed reviews and his position on the university faculty as a teacher of composition tenuous and with his beloved sister Sasha (Sabina Maydelle) urging him to settle down, Tchaikovsky breaks with the Count and determines to find himself a wife. An adoring fan letter from the mentally unbalanced Antonina Milyukova (Glenda Jackson) so charms Peter that a brief courtship ends in marriage, but he’s simply unable to perform sexually with his new bride, and her sexual frustration and need for attention drives Peter to the brink of madness. He’s saved by an offer from his patroness Madame Nadedja von Meck (Izabella Telezynska) to seek solace in a lodge house in the country adjacent to her manor, thus leaving Nina in Moscow as her mental instability leads her to, in effect, become a prostitute to satisfy her sexual desires and her mother’s (Maureen Pryor) need for money acting as her pimp.
Melvyn Bragg’s screenplay features episodes from the composer’s life which allows director Ken Russell to utilize some of Tchaikovsky’s most famous works not just as underscore but to send the director off into rhapsodic (and sometimes nightmarish) flights of fancy which make this one of the most visually interesting and emotionally stimulating films of the 1970s. The presentation of Tchaikovsky’s “Piano Concerto #1 in B Flat Minor” is used to not only introduce the composer’s first public performance of one of his signature pieces but also to serve as jumping off points for his sister’s remembrance of the previous summer, Nina’s fantasy about a cavalry officer she’s fixated on, and Peter’s longing for a carefree life, all salient to their personalities and to the story ahead. The “Suite #1: March Miniature” and “Symphony #4 Opus 36” bookend Peter’s birthday party, his last happy moments before treachery robs him of his financially and emotionally rewarding platonic relationship with his patroness. “The 1812 Overture” makes for a notoriously surreal climactic rebellion as Peter and Modeste take aim at all of Tchaikovsky’s adversaries near the end of his life, but it’s on Peter and Nina’s endless night train ride back to Moscow after their abysmally unsuccessful honeymoon where Russell really pulls out the surreal stops: to Tchaikovsky’s haunting “Symphony Pathetique,” we see Tchaikovsky’s drunken reaction to his wife’s revelry, his physical repulsion of his wife’s body as she lies unconsciously writhing on the floor of their carriage stark naked as a swinging lantern overhead postulates and magnifies his horror. Coming at the halfway mark of the movie, it’s not only the film’s cinematic centerpiece but a clear indication of the unsightly horrors director Russell is going to perpetrate on the viewer in the next hour. It’s not all ghastly extravagance, however. Along the way, we’re treated to a generous sampling of his “Romeo and Juliet,” “ Sleeping Beauty,” and “Swan Lake” ballets.
Richard Chamberlain doesn’t much resemble the real Peter Tchaikovsky, but he gives to the composer an honest attempt at capturing his method and his madness in an exceedingly difficult and controversial part, especially unusual for an American leading man in the early 1970s to be attempting. Glenda Jackson’s performance gives new meaning to the word “brave” as she captures the unstable and pathetic creature Nina in all her moods and with no hesitation at all at the full frontal nudity and brutal sexual encounters the part requires of her. In the completely fictional role of Count Anton Chiluvsky, Christopher Gable is fairly one-note, rather condescending, bitchy, and vengeful for most of the movie and rather tiresome overall. Kenneth Colley has some effective moments as Tchaikovsky’s similarly gay brother Modeste (though the movie only hints at his proclivities), and in the underwritten role of Tchaikovsky’s beloved sister Sasha, Sabina Maydelle hints at a good performance had the part been more fleshed out. Izabella Telezynska seems to struggle to speak English for her role but gets the essentials right as the regal Madame von Meck. Max Adrian as the conceited Nicholas Rubinstein jealous of his pupil’s composing gifts and parsimonious in his praise of him hits all the right notes.
Video Quality
3.5/5
The Panavision 2.35:1 theatrical aspect ratio is faithfully delivered in a transfer that’s anamorphically enhanced for widescreen televisions. Sharpness is generally good throughout though there are occasional dust specks and blotches that pop up from time to time to distract one’s attention. Color is also variable. Some scenes seem a bit faded while others seem more vibrant and true to the film’s theatrical flair. Occasionally there is a haze that seems to settle on the image for certain shots giving them a more dated appearance than the rest of the movie. Black levels are only fair. The film has been divided into chapters every ten minutes.
Audio Quality
4/5
The Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo sound mix features the glorious Tchaikovsky music as conducted by André Previn and performed by the London Symphony Orchestra, and it sounds marvelous. The richness that one would hope for is there (though a Blu-ray release with a lossless sound encode would be even more welcome), and the well recorded dialogue is always discernible and placed firmly in the center channel. Any momentary hiss is quickly forgotten, and there are no other aural artifacts likes pops or crackle to spoil the sound experience.
Special Features
1/5
The film’s theatrical trailer is presented in nonanamorphic letterbox and runs for 1 ½ minutes.
In Conclusion
4/5 (not an average)
Ken Russell’s The Music Lovers features the director’s extravagant flair with movement and imagery operating on all cylinders in a memorable if unusual cinematic biography of one of the world’s great composers. Recommended for those looking for a less than standard approach to a biographical drama.
Matt Hough
Charlotte, NC
