****
Shame on all you studios for passing and congratulations to smarter
backers HBO, who picked this up. As if we didn’t need further evidence that we’re in a golden age of television, this lends even more dazzle to that credo. Here in the UK - where it has been granted a cinema
release - Behind the Candelabra has been doing very respectable business. Possessing a lot of elements that Oscar so loves, it could also have basked in some awards glory. Like Tarantino, biopics are probably this
reviewer’s least favourite genre but this particular one is a real riot. One
thing it isn’t, as more than one Hollywood exec remarked, is “too gay”. You
might equally argue that this look at Liberace is not gay enough.
Rather than attempting to show his entire life, or even
career, the story focuses on the relationship with young
lover, Hollywood animal trainer Scott Thorson (Matt Damon). It starts in 1977 and Liberace (Michael
Douglas) is in the middle of a residency at
Vegas. He twice-nightly wows straight crowds with his glittering showmanship. In
his performance we see a supremely-honed talent giving the audience a lot more than
just bright, shiny things (and there are a lot of bright, shiny things in this
film). Following one of his shows Scott rapidly becomes his lover, is hired as
an assistant and then moves in. He finds himself increasingly stifled and his trophy status becomes
painfully clear when Liberace insists he undergo plastic surgery to resemble his younger self. All done under the careful tutelage of Dr Jack Startz (a
hilariously-nipped-and-tucked Rob Lowe). So far so creepy. Other indulgences send
Scott on a further downward spiral.
It shines a big, bright light on all of Liberace’s excesses
and does so cleverly. It pokes gentle fun but never in a mean-spirited way. Even
Liberace recognised the absurdity of his lifestyle (“Too much of a good thing….
is wonderful!”) and the film evokes that same attitude.
Douglas is incredible in the role. The performance could
have descended into cliché in lesser hands but, drenched in high camp, he
makes Liberace human and very real. Matt Damon delivers a performance so
un-flashy it would be easy to start taking the man’s talent for granted.
Neglecting to rely on any thespy tricks, he’s just brilliantly and quite simply
there. Soderbergh’s direction is appropriately workmanlike. With
so much gaudiness on screen there’s little need for directorial flare.
Richard LaGravenese’s script (adapted from Scott Thorson’s book) is
straightforwardly-plotted. Skipping through an entire life would have denied so
much depth. The decision to focus on a specific era allows time and energy to
be devoted to detail. It’s an effective and healthy trend and one that really
works. This approach shows conventional ‘birth-to-death’ biopics up to be
unrealistic in their ambition. It also avoids the need for multiple actors in
roles and/or too much prosthetic make-up. Not only do we get a deeper
experience it’s all the more realistic.
If you can still catch it on the big screen, I highly
recommend it. Seeing it with an audience is a hoot and it’s the way Liberace would have wanted
it.
