Enigmatic, experimental, and short but at least not dull

I have reviewed three other Derek Jarman bio-pics (Sebastian, Caravaggio, and Edward II).  The standard “e” words apply to his form of film: enigmatic, esoteric, and experimental.  Wittgenstein is the last of his bio-pic films.  Sebastian is the patron saint of homosexuals/homosexuality so we can be reasonably certain that if there were such a person, he was at least perceived as gay.  Not enough is known about Caravaggio to determine his sexual desires but I think few would argue.  Edward II has long been considered to be homosexual but proving it has been impossible.  Ludwig Wittgenstein was, in as much as he was anything sexual, gay.  See a pattern?

There will be a one sentence summary.  The film is narrated, in the beginning, by the young Wittgenstein (Clancy Chassay); he describes his family and the salient parts of Wittgenstein’s life from Cambridge where he felt imprisoned to Ireland and the Soviet Embassy, but he kept returning to Cambridge.

Briefly, Wittgenstein is in the pantheon of all philosophers and arguably the best of the 20th century.  He was the philosophical/semantic version of Einstein.

The majority of the film is built on relationships between Wittgenstein (Karl Johnson), Bertrand Russell (Michael Gough), and Maynard Keynes (John Quinten)—and his sometimes lover Johnny (Kevin Collins).  The film presents Wittgenstein as such a binary character (perfection/total disorder) that he spends most of the time brooding and his friends exist only to listen to his, well, ravings.  I have no idea how much of this is real and how much is symbolic or emblematic.  Since Jarman never met an idea he didn’t film, it is very difficult to say.

His affair with Johnny is the only thing that takes Wittgenstein out of his mind, but only so far before Johnny gets stuck in the eddy of near gibberish that is Wittgenstein when is formulating an unfinished idea.

Earlier films had far more quirky behavior, particularly Caravaggio, but there are moments of idiocy in Wittgenstein.  The one that comes to mind is when Wittgenstein, Keynes, and Keynes’s friend (a woman not named) do a dance with primary colored balls.  It is a dance of the sun, earth, and moon.  It comes from nothing, means nothing, and is not carried forward as an image.  It is a metaphor in search of a meaning.

The film is made entirely of primary colors.  The exception is Wittgenstein in drab clothes—the symbolism here is impossible to miss.  This carries forward to the tableaux.  These are sparsely furnished scenes set against a black background.  The point here is salience, nothing to distract the eye.

I didn’t know if this worked when I saw it in 1993 when it was released and I’m still uncertain almost fifteen years later.

The acting is standard for Mr. Jarman.  Since the impact of the setting and information are the focuses, the acting need not be top notch at all.  The exception to this rule is Edward II, but it was still stiff.  Wittgenstein is not so rough as other films, but it does distract.  Combine this inconsistency with the almost impossible logic the film tries to tackle and it becomes a colorful muddle.  I’m a sucker for Tilda Swinton (who appears in almost all of Mr. Jarman’s work) and she is noticeable because her performance is polished.

From all of this, you would assume I didn’t like it.  I did, but within the rules it sets for itself.  The rules it sets for itself is an idea I use when faced with something experimental, edgy, or independent and especially cult.  Since these films wanders off many of the standard paths, they have to present a set of specific concepts.  Narrative and plot may be pushed aside or changed apparently without meaning, and you can toss setting and time out the window in most instances.  Wittgenstein is consistent throughout where Caravaggio is not.  This means if you don’t like it within the first five minutes, then turn it off because the style of the film stays like that until the hour long tale is over.  And, it is fitting that I call it a film following its own rule—this is a concept that Dr. Wittgenstein wrestled with throughout his life: at its simplest, words only have meaning within an agreed upon context.  The film has control over the context; it has no control over the audience.  Still, there are worse ways to spend an hour.