IMDb #230 Review: Barry Lyndon (1975)

Source: Wikipedia

When the opening credits play George Frederick Handel’s Sarabande in D minor and display “Part I: By What Means Redmond Barry Acquired the Style And Title Of Barry Lyndon” in big loopy letters, you know you’re in for a fun ride.

Fate kicks around a wee Irish sprat. Decades whiz by, kids grow up into new actors, while the star stays the same. Friends appear and disappear, money pours in and evaporates. In short, we see the random events that direct one kid’s bizarre life bouncing through Europe.

Sadly, hardship transmutes this naif into a knave.

How much do you enjoy anti-heroes? Because I spent half the runtime cursing the frigging idiot, the rest wondering why we’re supposed to pull for this dick-basket.

Fortunately, it’s a period piece. You know what that means. Costumes! Wigs! Sets! Historically accurate props! Accents! (I wasn’t alive then, but it sure looks convincing enough.)

Also, people back then seemed much cooler…about dying horribly. Duels at ten paces — not even turning around, just taking turns, standing there and waiting to get plugged. And battle tactics — marching in straight lines, firing right at the big fat targets. Not to mention lead-based face powder, which the movie doesn’t address, but features prominently.

And characters act surprised when major players snuff it.

I can see why critics complain Kubrick is cold. Barry Lyndon is an ice bath: upsetting, then refreshing, but it feels the best when you stop and towel off.

Recommended for readers nostalgic for eighteenth-century novels (in which case, GET OFF MY INTERNET), classical music snobs, and voluntary human targets.

182 minutes.