Most of the time when I watch the films nominated for Cinematography I feel like I mustn't understand the first thing about the art. It is often hard for me to see a remarkable difference between a film that gets the honors and one that doesn't. But not this time. Mr. Turner opened with an absolutely breathtaking shot that established scene, tone and character beautifully and I knew I was in for a treat. For the most part, I was right.
The film is about J. M. W. Turner, an English Romantic painter. What I can tell you about him from my viewing of the film is that he put his art above absolutely everything and that in shape, manner and vocalization he was much like Danny Devito's penguin character from Batman Returns. That is not to say that Timothy Spall wasn't great as Turner, I think the homage was quite tasteful, intended or not.
Humanity and its temporary nature were boldly expressed in this film. Characters were grubby, unkempt, flawed, imperfect and often ailing. It was a welcome respite from the brand of period drama that depicts everyone as glowing and exemplary in their fancy costuming. Mr. Turner felt more honest than that, even more creepy at times. (Seriously, what is happening to the maid's face? Are there no doctors at all?)
But visuals! Let's get back to visuals! That's where Mr. Turner excels. Establishing shots here are also inspirational, artistic and at times utterly bewitching. At least once, they cut to an exterior shot that I thought was a painting by a master, so kudos to Dick Pope. My only complaint with Mr. Turner as a whole is that it did what biopics, and life, often do. They fizzle at the end and leave you with a vague feeling of disappointment rather than a great sense of magnificently earned closure.
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