Stevie

This is a wonderful film. It is not perfect; not many man-made artifacts are. However, if you have seen any film of Stevie Smith, you will realise how well Glenda Jackson captures her spirit, and especially her appearance. The claustrophobic scenes (mostly in the living-room of her very ordinary house) enhance this impression. The music and the interspersed commentary by Trevor Howard detach us from the story so we can be objective. Yes, it is sad; anyone who reads Smith's poetry knows it is sad, macabre and eccentric. The only real drawback is Mona Washbourne's portrayal of the aunt, not apparently true to life. Shame, as she is the warmest of the characters in the film. I only wish they would release it on dvd as video does not do it justice.

This is an appallingly boring film. Perhaps it was an interesting stage play...I don't know. But it doesn't work as a film because there is virtually nothing cinematic about it. It remains confined largely within the dimensions of a stage set (there is really only one set, a shabby-genteel apartment where "Stevie" (the real-life poet Stevie Smith) lives with her long-suffering aunt (played by Mona Washbourne). Stevie, you see, has problems---emotional problems, problems with her "muse," problems living with her dependent aunt, problems with lovers (one of them, Trevor Howard, bears the enigmatic name of "The Man.") And Stevie TALKS...all the time, a constant stream of arty, supposedly meaningful, but utterly self-indulgent jabber. Glenda Jackson plays "Stevie,"...she really liked talky parts, it would seem. This one fits her like a glove. She, Howard, Washbourne, and Alec McCowen are four of the finest actors Britain has produced. Yet they wallow in this mess for what seems like days (the film actually only runs a bit over the usual 90 minutes). Steer clear of this deadly dull bio-pic, unless you just can't do without the poetry and posturings of Stevie Smith, or you absolutely must see the entire "oeuvre" of Glenda Jackson, M.P.

I was most fortunate to have seen the original London production of Stevie, which was a landmark experience for me: my first London play, my introduction to the highly individual poetry of Stevie Smith and my one chance to see Glenda Jackson live. As for the film, I cherish my copy of it. While I admit it isn't very cinematic, it is a delight for lovers of the language, as Jackson and Washburn banter, and watching Glenda Jackson work is a delight. Highly recommended.

As another reviewer has said, this film is talky. Talky like a good Shakespeare play is talky, in my opinion. Glenda Jackson reading Stevie Smith's poetry on screen. Works for me. The film contains "four of the finest actors Britain has produced", says a reviewer. You don't suppose such high caliber actors know what is good material and what is not worth their time, do you? This film is a treasure. No CGI special effects, but you won't miss them. It is just an exploration of a poets life. A wonderful life, well lived. A wonderful film, well acted. Glenda Jackson as Stevie takes the viewer on a journey through the life of poet, Stevie Smith. Glenda breaths life into the incidents of Stevie's life with her great skill as an actress. And Mona Washbourne as Stevie's "Lion" Aunt, is no less that just perfect.

For a thoughtful, literate, positive essay on the film, see Ed Hirsch in American Poetry Review (Jul/Aug 2000): 32-37: ""It's deeply fitting that the last words of the film are the words of Stevie's final poem ["Come Death (a)," read by Trevor Howard]. They fill the mind, the theater, with their faithful summons, their fatal timely music.""