While there are many who are unfamiliar with the 19th century English painter J. M. W. Turner, there are few who haven’t seen his work, much of which graces the National Gallery in London (and where it was featured in the most recent James Bond film).
Turner was a controversial figure in his day, breaking many accepted rules about art and artists, and writer-director Mike Leigh’s new film similarly eschews the standard biopic format in telling his story here. “Mr. Turner” makes minimal effort to present the man (portrayed here, quite brilliantly, by Timothy Spall) as a traditionally likable character, instead highlighting his humanity, from his strengths to his downfalls.
Spanning several decades, the film is an intimate portrait of an artist, but more so, it speaks to the trials of the creative process within the larger context of life itself. “Mr. Turner” begins well into Turner’s adulthood, after he’d already (reportedly) fathered two children out of wedlock, whom he is barely concerned with making time for. His devoted housekeeper Hannah (Dorothy Atkinson) is another subject of his sexual exploits. Despite working and living among the elite, he would later pass away in the care of Sophia Booth (Marion Bailey), a widower and landlord he remained involved with, incognito, for nearly 20 years.
Suffice to say that the man’s social behaviors are shown as having often been boorish and callous. Nevertheless, they still speak to someone with a keen eye for the beauty and sadness in the world, as in a scene where Turner begins sobbing uncontrollably upon learning the age of the young prostitute who is posing for him. Of the many life truths herein, the fact that one’s humanitarianism might overlook their immediate loved ones is the one that stings the most. This is the greatest triumph of “Mr. Turner”: depicting the toll of creativity as one that transcends the canvas, particularly in the two final shots of the film, which juxtapose the bittersweet and the sorrowful with heartbreaking directness.
Leigh’s approach to Turner’s life is to abstain from judgment, instead opting to place the man in a larger natural context – a convenient tactic given Turner’s mastery of painting landscapes. Deliberately or not, there are several moments in the film where it’s unclear whether we’re looking at a painting or the real thing, to breathtaking effect. Of his failures as a man, Turner’s dedication as an artist was not among them, such as in his refusal to sell his collection for a small fortune (opting, instead, to bequeath it to the British people upon his death), or having himself tied to a ship’s mast so that he might be better equipped to paint the details of a raging storm at sea.
Turner is often described as a one who painted light (an interpretation surely influenced by his supposed last words), a turn of phrase also attributed to the art of filmmaking. Leigh makes this union between the mediums literal in a beautiful sequence with Mary Somerville (Lesley Manville), a scientist and friend of Turner’s, who experiments with the qualities of light after it’s been separated into the rainbow spectrum. “Nothing exists in isolation,” she charges, the statement serving as both a scientific observation and a life philosophy, and one the film embraces wholesale.
At two-and-a-half hours, “Mr. Turner” is a leisurely affair, its slower pacing set in an opening scene that presents Turner himself almost incidentally. With longer takes and longer scenes, the film intrinsically houses greater detail and richness in its depiction of a slower era and way of life, to rapturous effect. To hell with equivocation: it’s a masterpiece.
“Mr. Turner” opens at the GoggleWorks Film Theatre on Friday, Feb. 20.
Robert Humanick is a contributing writer for slantmagazine.com
Follow Rob on Twitter @rhumanick
