Movie Review—Mr. Turner

by Peter J. O'Connell

Mr. Turner. Released: Dec. 19, 2014. Runtime: 150 mins. Rated: R for some sexual content.

Mr. Turner is a film about a painter. Unlike most movies about painters, this is not the story of a sensitive, suffering soul or an alienated artiste or a brilliant, brave battler against outmoded conventions and various prejudices or a rebel with or without a cause. Mr. Turner is a shambling bear of a man, obese, gruff, communicating mostly by grunts, mumbles and cackles. He is J.M.W. Turner (1775-1851), whose command of light and color, energetic brushstrokes and innovative use of materials forged a link between the Old Masters and the soon-to-arrive Impressionists and made him one of Britain's greatest painters. 

Mr. Turner is not even a “story” at all. It has no plot line. What it is is a portrait of the artist as, well, a shambling bear, etc., in the last third of his long life. Actually, it is a series of portraits. Watching the movie is like a very enjoyable slow walk through a gallery hung with superb paintings of many scenes, all featuring Turner. Often the scenes presented to us by director Mike Leigh are ones reminiscent of Turner's own paintings. In a sense, we see him in his paintings before he painted them. 

We see Turner (Timothy Spall) estranged from his family, except for a warm relationship with his doting father (Paul Jesson). We see him sexually exploiting his worshipful maid servant (Dorothy Atkinson). We see him visit brothels and beaches. We see him turn the proprietress (Marion Bailey) of a seaside boarding house into his mistress. We see him in the teeming streets of London and in the bucolic countryside, surprised by the sight of an early railway train. We see him at home devouring slices of sow's head purchased at an open-air market, and we see him slobbering at an elegant dinner party in a mansion. 

Above all, we see Turner at work—ignoring the comments of critics as he puts the finishing touches to a painting already hung for an exhibition; or actually spitting on his own paintings to get the effects that he wanted; or having himself tied to the mast of a ship during a snowstorm at sea so that he can paint the scene accurately. 

Director Mike Leigh is held in high repute by critics, though he is not usually thought of in connection with movies about artists of the past but rather with projects of a more contemporary and “proletarian” nature. But it is probably Leigh's sense of Turner as a passionate craftsman in a world of change that attracted the director to create this cinematic work of art—which is also a portrait of that changing world. And Leigh found just the right cast, particularly, of course, Timothy Spall, to bring his “portraits” of Mr. J.M.W. Turner to colorful life.

Among the many scenes that may remain with audiences long after this long movie is over is one in which Turner turns down an offer of 100,000 pounds, an enormous sum at the time, for a collection of his works, choosing instead to bequeath them for free to “the British nation” and the scene on Turner's deathbed in which his last words are “the sun is god,” followed by a cackle. The very last scene of the film, like the first, shows Turner outside, painting landscapes suffused with color by that god.

“Footnote” to the film: Some other biopics that recreate scenes in the film reminiscent of art connected with its subjects include Vincente Minelli's Lust for Life (1956) about Vincent Van Gogh, Julie Taymor's Frida (2002) about Frida Kahlo, and Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon (1975) about the 18^th century.