Love and Death on Long Island

"A puerile romp without a single redeeming feature."

That's what an imaginary Sight and Sound review gives the trashy teenage exploitation film Hotpants College 2. However, for "erstwhile fogey" and famous English writer Giles De'Ath (John Hurt) this Porky-esque flick, which he watches purely by accident (he meant to see an E.M Forster adaptation) has one very redeeming grace. It contains the love of Giles' life – Ronnie Bostock (Jason Priestley).

This witty and poignant film, which divides itself between London and Long Island, may have faltered badly if it had been left in lesser hands than John Hurt. However, Hurt is simply mesmerising. He is one of the few actors who never shies away from making the audience utterly ill at ease – watch 1984, the monster shooting out of his stomach in Alien or The Elephant Man for confirmation.

Self-exiled from the modern world in his stuffy flat, with a picture of his recently deceased wife by his writing desk, and a fussy maid (Sheila Hancock) tending to his every whim, Giles' emotions are thoroughly repressed. Until, that is, fate lends a hand and exposes Giles to, amongst other things, terrible American teenage movies, video stores, fax machines, One Man and His Dog, and, finally, to his own sexual desires.

Love and Death in Long Island is brimming with quirky cameos, including weirdo diner owner Irv (Maury Chaykin), a motel manager (Elizabeth Quinn) reminiscent of Shelley Winters in Lolita, and a surprisingly good Priestley (lampooning his "bimbo" soap background much like Maxwell Caulfield in The Real Blonde).

However, it is ultimately a "warts and all" performance from Hurt that holds our gaze. Dignified, perplexed and slightly tragic, Hurt makes Giles one of the most touching "stalkers" in film history. Much like James Mason's Humbert in Lolita, Giles is a man of culture finding beauty in youth, in coarseness - in "all that I myself have never been."

Ultimately, a slow, witty work with one outstanding feature.

I recently re-saw this some years after my first viewing, and in spite of its humble mission and budget, it's still arresting and touching. A mere plot summary does not do justice to the excellent acting, the thoughtful details and dry British wit that bubbles throughout. I highly recommend it to anyone who cares about stories based on clever scripts, great acting and real characters... and especially if you value the stories of the closeted gays who lived among us.

I would give it a 9 or 10 if it did not provide some strange side trip details that don't add much except minutes to the consistency of the whole. Small complaint for a strong movie. Impress your friends/lovers with this one, almost no one has seen it in the States, I bet.

Anonymous (that prolific author) of Swarthmore (see below) has ably dealt with the plot line. Suffice to say that, echoing "Death in Venice" and "Lolita," stuffy old English haute culture writer Giles De'Ath (John Hurt) becomes obsessed by American teen junk movie starlet Ronnie Bostock (Jason Priestley) and goes to Long Island to seek out the gorgeous creature in its habitat. And, unlike Gustav in Venice who perved from afar, Giles actually befriends the creature and its girlfriend. Despite Giles's (comparative) intellect, it's not terribly likely that even a dim heterosexual lad like Ronnie is going to be persuaded to go off into the setting sun with Giles who is an old 60 and crusty with it, but it's fun watching Giles trying to make it happen. There are some interesting interchanges - a touch of Nabokov as European high culture brushes with American pop culture, largely in mutual incomprehension, though Ronnie is pointed to a little useful American culture (Walt Whitman) by his unexpected English visitor.

John Hurt, once a creepy Caligula in the 1970's TV version of "I, Claudius" and later the protagonist in "The Elephant Man" does a perfect Giles with wild emotion just in check beneath the old fogey exterior. He looks and acts very much the same as another great English actor, Michael Gough did as Ruskin, another literary panjandrum barely able to contain himself. I was also reminded of the late Sir Kingsley Amis, an angry young man and an engaging writer in his day who became a rather sorry figure in old age, bereft of his talent and full of spleen and booze. Giles, though, is much more controlled. Jason Priestley of "Beverley Hills 90210" is also perfectly cast, though he doesn't have to do more than be Brandon, the nice all-American male bimbo. As Ronnies' girlfriend Audrey, Fiona Loewi does a subtle job. Initially appearing to be no brighter than Ronnie, Audrey reads the situation much more quickly than he does. Or at least her turf protection instincts are pretty acute. There are nicely observed minor roles from Sheila Hancock as Giles's housekeeper, Elizabeth Quinn as a motel proprietor and Maury Chaykin as Irv, chef at the local Diner.

Locationwise, this film is a bit of a fraud. Having promised us Long Island in the title (and storyline), the producers gave us Halifax, Nova Scotia instead, in return apparently for a bit of government film corporation money. Well, it looks the same as Long Island, but if I were the Nova Scotia film corp. people I'd feel a bit foolish. What's the point in using public money to promote your local landscape and character when people think its somewhere else? It's true most films can be made anywhere (look what comes out of Fox in Sydney) but in some films the geography is crucial. I just hope they don't make "Shipping News" in Long Island instead of Newfoundland.

Locked out of his apartment, old-fashioned writer Giles De'Ath (John Hurt) almost reluctantly decides to take in a movie. Accidentally wandering in to see Hot Pants College II instead of the E.M. Forster adaptation for which he bought a ticket, the lonely man becomes transfixed by the sight of a hunky actor (Jason Priestley) and begins an obsession that makes for a thoroughly satisfying and entertaining story. First-time director Kwietniowski expertly observes the wildly disparate natures of these two men while keeping both of them entirely credible and believable. I particularly enjoyed Giles' compilation of Ronnie Bostock clippings from teeny-bopper magazines, carefully arranged and titled "Bostockiana" before being securely locked away in a desk drawer.

After viewing this film I wished it was 20 years ago, back when you were allowed to just stay in your chair and see the show a second time.

John Hurt is astounding as an English author who discovers beauty the last place he'd expect to find it - in an American "B" movie actor's performances. Hurt's character, Dr. De'Ath, is a true original, totally out of step with the 20th century. He simply had no need nor interest in modernizing his ways. He stumbles upon the work of Ronnie Bostock (Jason Priestley, in a heckuva good, self-effacing performance) and sees in him talent and passion. That's about all I can say without going too far into plot - but if I were able to physically compel people to see it, I certainly would. It's a lovely piece of work.