Barry LyndonIt's hard to be honest when lies get you more than the truth could. It's hard to be good when vice proves more rewarding. Thus was the lesson which Redmond Barry (Ryan O'Neal) discovered over the course of his tumultuous life of adventure across Europe in the later 18th Century. From his humble origins in the Irish countryside to his soldiering days in the Seven Years War, to his libertine era as a gambler and fencer, and to his gigolo pursuits with his "new money", Redmond Barry--who became Barry Lyndon, although he took up plenty of pseudonyms between then--lived his life in accordance with the oldest of laws: gravity...what goes up must come down.
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Stanley Kubrick's period piece is an adaptation of the novel "The Luck of Barry Lyndon" by William Makepeace Thackeray, chronicling the lives of both the poor origins from which Redmond sprouted and the rich destinations to where Barry found his ultimate calling. But in the beginning, Barry had no obvious aspirations to seek his fortune elsewhere, instead being taken with his cousin Nora (Gay Hamilton), who discarded his affections when she found she could pursue a more financially lucrative relationship with a British officer. Barry's temper to seek "satisfaction"--a quaint euphemism for dueling--mirrors his own fathers, who died under similar circumstances before the story even begins. After "murdering" Captain Quin (Leonard Rossiter), Nora's suitor and the financial lynchpin for his uncle's estate, Barry is forced to flee and make his fortune elsewhere. Almost from the very beginning of the film, a "con" is in play. In fact, so much of the world of Barry Lyndon thrives on larceny and dishonesty, so that the only real shortcoming it would seem is to get caught. Barry himself begins as an innocent, a naive but headstrong lad who is unfamiliar with the worldly ways that he is taken advantage of at first by his cousin, who uses him as a convenient boy to get affection from until something better comes along--and they by her brothers, who fix the duel to trick him into thinking he killed Quin. When Barry is mugged by a pair of highwaymen--one who must be famous indeed, for Barry knows him to be the infamous "Captain Feeny" (Arthur O'Sullivan)--he seems almost impressed to be robbed by him, and we begin to understand that deep down, Barry does crave that kind of attention, that fame, or any fame at least. As Barry becomes entrenched in the Seven Years War enlisted in the British army--then the Prussian army--he begins to learn his advantages and how to apply them to profit and escape his condemnation to a grim end in battle. When boxing, he takes advantage of his speed and agility; it is no coincidence that this scene has great authenticity, as Stanley Kubrick's first film was a nine-minute documentary on boxing. But in a world where vice has profited Barry, there still lurks the persistent presence of a conscience, muted though it may be over the years. This is in part what keeps Barry charming for so long, as his misbehavior leaves only arrogant nobles and corrupt politicians in the lurch, whereas Barry can bolster his fortune at their expense.
But practically as soon as Redmond Barry assumes the mantle of Barry Lyndon--by marrying the winsome Lady Lyndon (Marisa Berenson)--he too transforms...from rakish hero into a tyrannical bully, a heartless cad who flagrantly commits acts of adultery, squanders the Lyndon fortune in a self-serving effort to endow himself with a peerage, and cruelly flogs his stepson, Lord Bullingdon, played by Leon Vitali, who would continue to work with Stanley Kubrick as his assistant. The latter days in Barry's life at the Lyndon estate show the cold fire which burns between him and Lord Bullingdon, their resentment of one another--Lord Bullingdon for Barry deceiving his mother and grifting their fortune, and Barry for the boy being an impediment to secure his legacy for his own son, Bryan Patrick (David Morley). Their animosity bears no small resemblance to that of Hamlet and Claudius, the melancholy son who has lost a father and the callous usurper whose sin is inescapable by the knowledge in his stepson. As Lord Bullingdon's malice grows for Barry, he begins to become a mirror of Barry in his younger days, seeking satisfaction for his abasement at the hands of the cruel seducer. By the time the climax of the film comes around, we find our "hero" has subtly transformed into the villain of the piece, and our attentions and hopes for triumph can only reasonably fall upon Lord Bullingdon to avenge his family's shame and collapse into financial ruin. Barry's transformation marks him as almost an entirely different kind of man than the boy we were introduced to in his early days in Ireland, when he was proclaiming his undying love for Nora. Now, his marriage to Lady Lyndon is an affront to that youthful countenance, his purity seemingly drained entirely from a life of war and deception. Barry must be keenly aware of this, but has hardened his heart, so that his violent outburst when Lord Bullingdon humiliates him in front of the gentry marks him as an anathema to the cultured sophisticates he plies at for admission. And when Lord Bullingdon returns to challenge Barry to a duel after hearing of his mother attempted suicide, the scene bookends the younger Barry's own duel with Quin. Seeing himself in Lord Bullingdon, when the young noble misfires his pistol out of absolute panic, a small part of Barry which yet remains pure evens the odds by misfiring as well...it is almost too bad for Barry that this noble gesture is insufficient to the damage he has caused the Lyndon family, and Lord Bullingdon knows it. When Barry's exodus from England finally occurs, it is with that proverbial whimper, and he leaves incomplete, a sad end for a man who bore such noble aspirations in his youth, but fell prey to his own vanity and the lure of entitlement. Perhaps the lesson here is that in Barry's youth, his heart protected his soul from being worn into nothingness, much as Lord Bullingdon's kept him noble in the same way...or perhaps it is more sardonic than that, and that the world is a gamble, and Barry's luck had run out. But with luck like Barry Lyndon's--rising and falling--what else is there to do but gamble?
Recommended for: Fans of lush and immersive period pieces, with vast scenes that look as though they belong in an art gallery, with a story of fortunes gained and lost, for fans of history and drama both, and for confirmation that wearing bright red and marching headlong into gunfire was never the most sound of military strategies.
But practically as soon as Redmond Barry assumes the mantle of Barry Lyndon--by marrying the winsome Lady Lyndon (Marisa Berenson)--he too transforms...from rakish hero into a tyrannical bully, a heartless cad who flagrantly commits acts of adultery, squanders the Lyndon fortune in a self-serving effort to endow himself with a peerage, and cruelly flogs his stepson, Lord Bullingdon, played by Leon Vitali, who would continue to work with Stanley Kubrick as his assistant. The latter days in Barry's life at the Lyndon estate show the cold fire which burns between him and Lord Bullingdon, their resentment of one another--Lord Bullingdon for Barry deceiving his mother and grifting their fortune, and Barry for the boy being an impediment to secure his legacy for his own son, Bryan Patrick (David Morley). Their animosity bears no small resemblance to that of Hamlet and Claudius, the melancholy son who has lost a father and the callous usurper whose sin is inescapable by the knowledge in his stepson. As Lord Bullingdon's malice grows for Barry, he begins to become a mirror of Barry in his younger days, seeking satisfaction for his abasement at the hands of the cruel seducer. By the time the climax of the film comes around, we find our "hero" has subtly transformed into the villain of the piece, and our attentions and hopes for triumph can only reasonably fall upon Lord Bullingdon to avenge his family's shame and collapse into financial ruin. Barry's transformation marks him as almost an entirely different kind of man than the boy we were introduced to in his early days in Ireland, when he was proclaiming his undying love for Nora. Now, his marriage to Lady Lyndon is an affront to that youthful countenance, his purity seemingly drained entirely from a life of war and deception. Barry must be keenly aware of this, but has hardened his heart, so that his violent outburst when Lord Bullingdon humiliates him in front of the gentry marks him as an anathema to the cultured sophisticates he plies at for admission. And when Lord Bullingdon returns to challenge Barry to a duel after hearing of his mother attempted suicide, the scene bookends the younger Barry's own duel with Quin. Seeing himself in Lord Bullingdon, when the young noble misfires his pistol out of absolute panic, a small part of Barry which yet remains pure evens the odds by misfiring as well...it is almost too bad for Barry that this noble gesture is insufficient to the damage he has caused the Lyndon family, and Lord Bullingdon knows it. When Barry's exodus from England finally occurs, it is with that proverbial whimper, and he leaves incomplete, a sad end for a man who bore such noble aspirations in his youth, but fell prey to his own vanity and the lure of entitlement. Perhaps the lesson here is that in Barry's youth, his heart protected his soul from being worn into nothingness, much as Lord Bullingdon's kept him noble in the same way...or perhaps it is more sardonic than that, and that the world is a gamble, and Barry's luck had run out. But with luck like Barry Lyndon's--rising and falling--what else is there to do but gamble?
Recommended for: Fans of lush and immersive period pieces, with vast scenes that look as though they belong in an art gallery, with a story of fortunes gained and lost, for fans of history and drama both, and for confirmation that wearing bright red and marching headlong into gunfire was never the most sound of military strategies.