Alec Guiness

  • Cromwell (1970)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2022) As far as my embarrassingly short attention span is concerned, only two things save Cromwell from the weight of its hefty two hours and twenty-five minutes (back when that did not include five minutes’ worth of end credits)—a sense of characters dealing with epochal changes, and a central battle sequence that has endured much better than you’d expect. Otherwise, well, steel yourself for an extended history lesson painted with mud and maximalist production design. The cast is worth some attention, with Richard Harris and Alec Guiness staring at each other as they debate the changing nature of the British monarchy. Also worth noting is a very young Timothy Dalton in a supporting role. But there’s a limit to what actors can do with an overlong script, and Cromwell doesn’t take a long time to grate, as speeches upon speeches and digressions upon tangents all serve to dilute the film’s most interesting elements. A battle sequence does spice things up, but then it’s back to dark brown rooms for more soliloquies and period detail. I probably would have given this better marks had I been in the mood for a British history lesson—but at this moment, it feels like far too much too little added value. It’s amazing to consider that Cromwell’s original cut was (we’re told) around three hours and fifteen minutes. Wake me up once the 85-minute version hits.

  • Tunes of Glory (1960)

    Tunes of Glory (1960)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2021) If you’re looking at film history as a vast tapestry of individual works in relationship with each other, a surprising number of movies are best seen when compared to others. They stand alone narratively, but their interest comes from being variations on preceding films, responses to previous work, conscious attempts to get away from something else or simply new (and not necessarily successful) combinations of elements used elsewhere. Tunes of Glory, at face value, is a somewhat dry and downbeat drama about two officers having a clash of personalities in a Highland Regiment outpost. As an almost-theatrical exploration of two different men battling for power, it’s not uninteresting even if it does play to a very specific audience and premise. It does not end well. But Tunes of Glory becomes substantially more interesting when you compare it to other films in their lead’s filmography, what with Alec Guiness playing a slob and John Mills a snob — both playing against type in a mutually-agreed upon exchange of the roles they’d initially been selected for. It’s a particularly interesting contrast when placed alongside Guiness’ previous turn as a by-the-book officer in Bridge on the River Kwai. While I can’t quite recommend Tunes of Glory as a film to watch on its own (it’s good, but it’s not that good in a universe with plenty of other unseen movies), it does become a provocative follow-up to Bridge on River Kwai, or as part of any career retrospective for Guiness or Mills. But that’s the nature of the game once you start seeing not just individual movies but pieces of film history.