A film within a film about a play within a play, in many respects. It looks behind the scenes of Alan Bennett’s latest play, which fictionalises a meeting between poet W.H. Auden and composer Benjamin Britten, whilst also interwoven is a documentary itself about the two.
They met and were friends once, but fell out quite spectacularly, never to speak again. The play sees the two reacquainted in old age, both ill, with death’s door not too far away. The play itself is entertaining as we are taken through the journey from the incarnation of the script, to rehearsals, to opening night; Alan Bennett often giving some funny, touching and eloquent insights into the work in progress. He is in disarray at opening night, because there is no place for him any more (“everyone has a dressing room and is getting ready, it’s over for me now,” he movingly states), he seems genuinely sad that the communal and collaborative process of rehearsals has ended, as though opening night is the death more than the birth.
The insights into Auden are both revealing and sprinkled with intrigue; some of his poetry recitals are, again, touching and poignant. The footage taken before his death is a marvel - his face itself is a cinematic experience, and lines are engraved into his skin like the rings of a thousand year old tree, so heavily it’s as though there are small rivers running through them. His nicotine stained fingers are such a colour of yellow they resemble a sickly brown bile substance as he wearily sucks the last cigarette smoke of his life. The way the film intersperses all the aspects is both original and absorbing as we are taken through the ages on a parallel with the plays development. Because of this it never really dries up and we are led down a new avenue once we get to the end of another. On paper what could have been quite a rigid and formulaic documentary was actually vivacious and varied in style and execution: consequently a unending joy to watch.