Benediction

Here's a lot of old fashioned Britishness we love. Repressed emotions hidden behind immaculate manner and only expressed through biting witty comments and classy bitching. But having partially lived in and experienced modern UK (or let's just say London, that is a world of its own) for over a decade now, it's the world that's almost gone... unless for such rare moments brought back by the dying breed as Terence Davies.

In that sense, the whole film is definitely sentimental, nostalgic... and gently bitter (as oppose to bitter sweet). Even the scenes of horror from WW1 are somewhat veiled with distinctively old fashioned verses of Siegfried Sassoon. For some reason most scenes with special effects (the scene where Siegfried dropping his medal being most noteworthy) feel so dated too, as in 90's film or a student project of SiFi.

My biggest issue in enjoying the film was that I gradually lost empathy with Siegfried. He starts off as gentle, smart young man, restrained but with lucid enough self-awareness and noble idealism of a youth. Then he dips in relationships with pretty but frivolous guys, predictably gets hurt by them, and then opts for a more conventional life of marriage and child in the selfish hope that the wife and son may give him the light he craves for. And then he ends up a bitter, distant, irritable and irritating old man, who vents out to his poor wife and suffering son, practically the only people left around, for their failure to become the light he wanted them to be.

Now, it's not entirely his fault alone. The horror of the war that scarred him for life and the intolerant society that kept him from acting upon his true love have a lot to answer for. Even his shallow, egoistic post-war lovers are largely because such bold 'crazy' ones were the only people who could live somewhat openly as gay in the repressive British society.

Nevertheless Siegfried had so many privileges - his uppercrust background, artistic talent, social recognition, and few but supportive friends. Despite of it all, he makes choices against his own truth and heart, and ends up a bitter resentful old man. His last ditch attempt to God wouldn't give him the solace he craves for.

I guess that is actually the message of the film - how giving up one's true heart and truth, whether by one's own will or circumstances, can leave one just a shell of oneself. And what's the worth of a poet when he can't speak his truth?

Overall it left me somewhat unsatisfied after 2 hours of run despite of its many enjoyable and charming virtues. I suspect Terence Davies himself has never quite overcome the pessimistic view he manifested in his early trilogy.

"Many live for the moment, you live for the eternity" British poet Siegfried Sassoon's son to his father in his final days--as the poet continues to bemoan the dead soldiers of of WWI who died for a cause that had changed from what it was when they enlisted. Thanks to Terrence Davies' film I have come to appreciate Sassoon's poetry. As a film, I prefer the comparable film "Under Milkwood" on the life and poetry of Dylan Thomas. A trivial highlight of the film: T E Lawrence (a.k.a. Lawrence of Arabia) attending the very private wedding of Sassoon! Though mentioned briefly as an admirer of the poet Sassoon, Noel Coward never gets shown in the film. Some aspects of the screenplay are very impressive, while some are not (switching back and forth in time, needlessly, those relating to one of Sassoon's many gay paramours).

A slow, stately biopic about poet Siegried Sassoon and the demons that plagued him after serving in WWI.

The movie has serious Evelyn Waugh vibes, especially "Brideshead Revisited." WWI stories always fascinate me, especially when they're about how much the war screwed up the psyches of the people who were caught up in it. This film is overall satisfying, if a bit repetitive. A huge amount of time is spent on Sassoon, a more or less openly gay man, and his various love affairs, all with caricatures of flamboyant, bitchy gay men and all of them leaving you wondering what he wanted to be around them for in the first place. Seriously, were all gay men this hateful in the 1920s? But then you think about how marginalized they were, and the answer is, well, yeah, maybe they were. They had a lot to be hateful about.

The one reason to see this movie is a big one, and that's the central performance of Jack Lowden. He's magnificent in this. Easily award worthy, though a group like the Academy Awards wouldn't recognize him in a million years.

Grade: A-

It's an anti-war biopic of the English poet Siegfried Sassoon that covers Sassoon's life from 1914 to the 1960s.

Siegfried Sassoon (Jack Lowden/Peter Capaldi) was a Second Lieutenant during World War I. His younger brother, Hamo (Thom Ashley), is killed during the war. Siegfried is further horrified by the tremendous human toll in death and lifelong disability caused by military leadership in which he no longer believes. Already a well-known poet, he refuses further participation in the war and is sent to the Craiglockhart War Hospital near Edinburgh technically for shell shock. There Siegfried meets and befriends Wilfred Owen (Matthew Tennyson), a much younger man. Siegfried also explicitly recognizes his own homosexuality.

The film then follows his anti-war sensibilities through snippets of his poetry and his chaotic love life, mainly focused on Ivor Novello (Jeremy Irvine) and Stephen Tennant (Calam Lynch/Anton Lesser). At a certain point, he tries to escape the chaos by marrying Hester Gatty (Kate Phillips/Gemma Jones). Together they have a son. George (Richard Goulding), but clearly, the marriage does not heal Sassoon's memories.

The film uses footage from the trenches in World War I and occasionally flips in time between the young Sassoon and the elderly Sassoon. Some of the editing decisions made little sense to me, particularly the early scene forecasting his conversion to Catholicism. Some edits made the film more complex than necessary. Nevertheless, the movie successfully portrays Sassoon as disabled because of World War I, from which he never psychologically recovered. This is clear from the multiple references to Wilfred Owens' poem, "Disabled."

Davies is a masterful filmmaker. He has stated that he is not a "Gay" filmmaker in the way that, possibly, Jarman was. I think this is generally true. Davies seems more concerned with individual struggle and self-expression than homosexual rights. His period films recall a time when individuals created and asserted their identity in opposition to social conformity. While he emphasizes the personal and the private sphere of experience, he also recognizes how these can transform society. A Quiet Passion, Sunset Song, and Benediction are about people revolting in very unique ways. The performances and control of other elements are subtle, complex, and always interesting.