The British have always enjoyed this kind of masochistic self-scrutiny, and what better wound to scratch than the notorious Profumo affair? The sex and treason scandal toppled England's conservative government in the early 1960s, and cost the life of at least one man: London doctor and celebrated freethinker Steven Ward, who enjoyed the heady, highbrow thrill of life in high places and understood how the quickest way into the corridors of power was through the pants of the men at the top. John Hurt manages to pull a sympathetic character out of the doctor's unsavory reputation, and freshman director Michael Caton-Jones recreates (with pitch-perfect sleaze) the boozy, lascivious mood of early '60s sex and politics. The details would have been compelling even without so much trendy visual overkill, but a little stylistic embellishment is to be expected in a film condensed to feature length from a proposed five-hour television miniseries. And although the script by Michael Thomas says nothing about power and privilege that isn't already common knowledge, it's nice to be reminded of the all-too human animal lurking just behind the typically English stiff upper lip.
