Jack Warner is said to have once told an underling not to bring him any movies about people who write with feather pens. The mogul believed that costume epics were dull and plodding, guaranteed to test the patience of most audiences.
When Stanley Kubrick delivered his film "Barry Lyndon" to Warner Bros. in 1975, the studio's namesake was long gone, and that was probably for the best since he may have chosen not to release what is the ultimate feather pen movie and also Kubrick's greatest masterpiece. If asked to do the impossible and name the best film ever made, I wouldn't hesitate to give my vote to "Barry Lyndon."
Plodding? Yes. Dull? To those who demand rapid fire editing, it may be the dullest movie ever. For those who appreciate fine literature and fine art, "Barry Lyndon" is an absolute feast, visually, aurally, and dramatically. Based on an obscure novel by William Thackeray, it's the story of an Irish lad climbing the ranks of English society, alienating everyone in his path.
As Redmond Barry, Ryan O' Neal's Irish brogue comes and goes, but despite that inconsistency, he acquits himself well. Also worth noting is Michael Hordern's narrator, often seeming to express disapproval for the main character as he perceptively surveys his exploits.
The real star of the film is Kubrick and his production team who recreate the 17th century in a way that makes the viewer truly appreciate what life must have been like at the time. Watching the women, most notably the beautiful Marisa Berenson, sashaying about in glamourous dresses, one wonders how they could endure the apparent discomfort of such cumbersome clothing. It's no wonder they took so many baths. And watching Barry rise in society, one is aware that the society is ultimately every bit as superficial and uncouth as the rogue "hero" himself.
The movie is slow, very slow, but so was life in the era depicted, and the achievement of "Barry Lyndon" is that it transports the viewer to an earlier but far from simpler time in a way that no other film has done. The cinematography and art direction are peerless, as is Leonard Rosenman's score which adapts the work of some of the greatest classical composers.
Most movies, even the good ones, are as light as popcorn, easily forgotten when the lights come back on. The patient viewer who gives "Barry Lyndon" a chance to work its magic will be rewarded with a true cinematic experience.
Brian W. Fairbanks