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Barry Lyndon (1975) is probably one of Stanley Kubrick’s rarest and most glorious films in which he took deepest pride directing. Incidentally, his films are remarkably different from one another. From the opening sequence to the many quintessential long shots, each one having the reminiscent of 18th Century oil paintings, this film stands out from the rest. There are moments within the film in which Kubrick would focus on the initial focal point of the establishing shot, then pull back with the zoom lens to reveal the entire landscape or coldly, raw imagery. In other words, it is like viewing any period or impressionistic painting for the viewer’s eye to move. In an artistic euphemism, he uses the characters as “still lifes.” A prime example is a scene in which Lady Lyndon, played by Marisa Berenson, and the young Lord Bullington are positioned as the centerpiece of the camera frame, emotionless, the pure white of color from her dress in contrasting with low soft colors. Even the sequences of the Prussian Army marching had a vibrant contrast of dark blue.
Unmistakably, it was Kubrick’s gift toward the film of experimenting with low-key lighting sequences with the candles, giving this warm glow of perpetual beauty. It was no doubt, a practical and original technique for playing with lighting for the newly developed camera. It is ingenious of using a super fast 50mm, which had a massive aperture for shooting an f-stop at 0.7, practically no depth of field in opposite of the outdoor wide shots of using natural light and different continuities of color. It is the mise-en-scene of transporting the viewer into a period full of lush color juxtaposed with the misadventures of an Irishman with no sense of morality, a way to be a part of the British regime, away from his isolation, seeking he lusts. Kubrick has a way of putting an audience’s immediate attention on the character’s eyes, which are burning with dire emotion. Greatly inspired by Sergio Leone’s technique of exploring the poetry of facial expression, specifically from his film, Once Upon a Time in the West (1968). A potent method of this technique was used in which Barry lays his fury on Lord Bullington before beating him senseless. We are able to see his anger rise in his eyes.
It is no surprise that Kubrick can have little attachment with the human element in the plot. The main characters in the film do not have a plethora of emotion, each one engaging their own personal benefactors of society in a rather cold manner. For myself personally, this probably one of Ryan O’Neil best roles of his career as Barry, capturing a man fitting his own destiny of drawing wealth toward aristocracy. A certain motif that Kubrick uses is a game of cards to which the characters play “a game of chance.” This could be a reflection of Barry’s odyssey from Europe’s Seven Years’ War to a final gentlemen’s duel of gunplay with Lord Bullington. Another way of pacing the characters and their atmosphere is the use of classical music. If you take a specific sequence such at the seduction scene when Barry meets Lady Lyndon, the music of Franz Schubert is fluid like water, a gentle rhythm juxtaposed by the natural light that shines between their uncommon romance, even certain sequences within the film, such as violins becoming a representation of deepest emotion.
Barry Lyndon is a fascinating event that bewilders every mind. The film is so lengthy because it illustrates Kubrick perfectionism over an 18th Century costume piece, allowing the audience with an imagination to be absorbed with the story. Every scene is builds in scrutinizing detail, as if this was an actual turn of events being filmed. Kubrick has a tendency to use soft light as the key component of composing the persona of each character. In a way, it is an experimentation of putting philosophical standpoints without ever even really releasing it toward the characters. This film is a director’s imagination of seeing the world from an entirely different perspective.

Stanley Kubrick’s forgotten gem needs reassessed as one the finest examples of great film making. His attention to detail, gorgeously commented by lavish music and artwork worthy cinematography is captivating. Kubrick captures a sense of time and place and takes us to a world that is as foreign to us as another galaxy. We start the film somewhat unattached to the cold and seemingly smug and heartless Barry Lyndon ,but as the film progresses we begin to identify with Lyndon’s motivations an invest in his quest. This film works great as a DVD because you can pause and assimilate each sequence and put it down like a great book to be read later. I watched it again in two segments divided by an intermission. This is another example of why Kubrick is among our finest directors.

Not only is it one of Stanley Kubrick’s best movies, it is the greatest period piece to exist on screen. It completely takes you back to another time without any faults at all. It’s slow paced, sure, but that’s how it was meant to be. That’s part of the reason it’s so effective, you spend time with the sets, music and costumes as much as you do the characters and story. Ryan O’Neal in my opinion is perfect as Barry, he says so much with his mannerisms and eyes. It’s a subtle and highly effective performance that goes completely unnoticed for the majority of viewers. The story is also very subtle in what it says about the bureaucracy and politics in Europe during the 1700s. It’s an incredible journey, a man goes from being nothing more than a peasant to a rich nobleman with little effort. The relationships are very real and intense, it’s the driving force of the entire movie. I feel that of all Stanley Kubrick’s work, this is given the least amount of appreciation.

Kubrick’s 1975 epic traces the life of ambitious social climber, Irishman Redmond Barry, who through a set of extraordinary circumstances manages to impose himself as a member of the English nobility. Plot synopsis within a review always sounds contrived and after the briefest of introductions I’m going to move swiftly onto analysing the quality of this picture. (Besides, summarizing the 180 minute period piece would be unnecessary and complex). I attribute the underwhelming critical praise of this film to the fundamental flaws in its pacing, its lack of character emotion, and its lifeless performances. However, these I believe all work in favour of Kubrick’s vision of 18th century Europe. He is undeniably a visual director who with Barry Lyndon has conceived what I believe to be the most stunning work ever put to celluloid. Drawing influence from the era’s paintings, Kubrick crafted a beautiful film that only added to his virtuoso reputation. The lifeless performances somehow add to the films mesmerizing quality. It would be hard to imagine such circumstances occurring around a flamboyant Lyndon. The scene where his son dies proves also that Kubrick was right to cast American actor Ryan o’ Neal, the emotion pours off him in a very moving way. To avoid long-windedness, I urge you just see this movie, I promise you, its aching beauty will wipe you out. An unappreciated gem.

Kubrick makes this seemingly boring period piece drama about the rise and fall of edmund barry, into a single one (well,actually 2 part) spectacular never boring epic movie. from the first word spoken by the narrator,until the last,.this movie grip me,if only he cast a much more stronger lead role(not ryan o’neill,whom i’ll always pictured as a spoiled brat from love story),this could be perfect.anyway,.this is still one of his best movie,that should stand along the classic like A CLOCKWORK ORANGE,2001: A SPACE ODYYSEY,and DR STRANGELOVE

I wasn’t surprised to find that of Stanley Kubrick’s 11 major works, 4 were in TSPDT’s top 100. I was, however, surprised to see “Barry Lyndon” listed among them (#90), coming in ahead of his masterpieces “A Clockwork Orange” (#93), “Paths of Glory” (#181), and “The Shining” (#141). The only Kubrick films ranked higher were “2001: A Space Odyssey” (#4), and “Dr. Strangelove” (#39).

Since I had not yet seen the film, you may rightfully wonder at the cause of my suspicions. Stanley Kubrick and Woody Allen were my first exposures to masterful film-making; I owe my love of film to them. Over time, I’d seen all of Kubrick’s other works and read books and essays about them, but I’d never been terribly interested by “Barry Lyndon.” Victorian epics have been so thoroughly exploited by Hollywood, and so often to such bilious effect, that I’d been turned off by the descriptions of “Barry Lyndon”, despite all that I knew and loved about Kubrick.

Now that I’ve seen it, I feel an odd mix of shame and vindication in my hesitation. Lyndon isn’t just another trite Hollywood Jane Austin adaptation or predictable royal character piece. It’s a Kubrick film through and through. Its cinematography, pacing, scoring, and performances (not to mention its underlying philosophy) all bear his directorial stamp. Lyndon is masterful storytelling.

And yet the film didn’t fully captivate, startle, or mesmerize me as many of his other films did. Don’t get me wrong; I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and recommend this film to anyone, no matter your taste. It’s 3 hours and 3 minutes long, yet you’ll never know it. It’s filmed using entirely natural lighting (candles and sunlight); unlike Hollywood’s Victorian pieces, Lyndon’s cinematography yields a much more authentic and honest air to the decadent fashions and attitudes of the times.

Perhaps my only real complaint is that the film contained too few surprises or tension. Its narration – spoken with a humorous and cynical detachment that only a distinguished British accent can accomplish – foreshadows nearly all the twists and turns that Barry Lyndon’s life takes, making much of the action slightly anti-climactic. This intentional approach reinforces the underlying message of the film, best summed up in the written epilogue: “It was in the reign of George III that the aforesaid personages lived and quarreled; good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now.” Personally, I have no problem with a pessimistic philosophy that questions the point of our lives, the meaninglessness of our existence in this indifferent, godless universe. It’s only that the film, while refined, is actually quite blunt in this regard.

Now that I’ve seen all of his major works, I can’t help but create my own ranking of his films:

1) 2001: A Space Odyssey (From the first frame to the last, this is the most amazing work of art ever made – or at least that I’ve seen)
2) Paths of Glory (the last scene is the most authentically moving in any film I’ve ever seen)
3) Dr. Strangelove (I experienced a profound loss of essence ;-)
4) A Clockwork Orange (I viddied well)
5) The Shining (Jack was never better)
6) The Killing (the money blowing away on the tarmac left me as speechless as it did Sterling Hayden)
7) Lolita (a failed masterpiece, but a beautiful and captivating failure. I love it when a film makes me uncomfortable without resorting to cheap tricks)
8) Barry Lyndon
9) Full Metal Jacket (overrated by many, but still unceasingly quotable)
10) Eyes Wide Shut (Nicole …. Kidman…. couldn’t… speak…. her ….. lines…… any ……slower.)
11) Spartacus (I found little to like until the very last scene).

A Masterpiece, arguably the most underrated film of the 1970’s. Every frame of the film looks like an 18th century painting, every scene deliberately shot slowly in order to suck the viewer in. A fine example is when Barry Lyndon seduces the Lady Lyndon. Notice how Barry Lyndon walks, it’s as if he’s pacing to the music being played by the film score. No other director would have filmed a film of this magnitude and scope using natural light, mainly by candlelight. Many period pieces before Barry Lyndon would film using artificial light, but the revolutionary way Kubrick shot this film gave it a look of exactly what he was going for, that of paintings from that era. When released, critics and filmgoers alike complained that the film was too cold and distant, but its the repression of people’s emotions (especially of high society) that was the norm of the day.

Kubrick’s follow up to ‘A Clockwork Orange’, which caused him no end of distractions and controversy, finds him making what seems like a ‘safe’ choice and the polar opposite of that futuristic gang tale, a 3 hour costume drama set in the late 1700’s. Having spent several years researching a film on Napoleon, funding collapsed (because of the flop of Waterloo with Rod Steiger) he then rejected yet another remake of William Makepeace Thackery’s Vanity Fair and in the process uncovered the authors little known second novel The Luck of Barry Lyndon, first published in serial form in 1844. Producers forced two ‘movie stars’ on Kubrick as a requirement for the money and after Robert Redford expressed interest but passed, he settled on Ryan O’Neal, then the second ranked box office star, and Marisa Berenson, who had made her name in modelling. As with most Kubrick enterprises they are less actor dependant than other directors and from these unlikely elements he fashioned his epic.

The story starts in Ireland, then occupied by the English and with a duel, where we see Barry’s father killed. Redmond Barry, himself Irish and therefore not of the ruling aristocracy and an outsider in his own land, is good looking, headstrong and not too bright, and given he will have to live on his wits the augeries are none too good. Smitten with his cousin and upon learning of her arranged impending marriage for money he challenges her prospective husband, superbly played by Leonard Rossiter, to a duel. Forced to flee his home, fate casts him into the army, where he fails to distinguish himself in the Seven Years War in Europe, but manages to save a minor officers life (Hardy Kruger) who then takes him under his wing. Falling in with a notorious gambler Barry trawls through the great houses of Europe scamming and cheating and looking for the main chance, who arrives in the form of the ravishing Lady Lyndon. The attraction is mutual and he becomes her lover, much to the irritation of Sir Charles Lyndon (Frank Middlemass) who has one of the great death scenes in cinema. The marriage is made and Redmond becomes Barry Lyndon, moving in as Lord of her English manor in all but title. Barry starts to indulge recklessly, ruining the marriage in the process and making a mortal enemy of Lady Lyndon’s son, Lord Bullingdon (Leon Vitali). The birth of his son Brian pulls Barry back from the brink and the marriage attains a kind of equilibrium for a time until an unexpected tragedy sends Barry spiralling downwards once more, to the inevitable duel finale.

Kubrick employed all of his notorious, meticulous working methods to construct a thing of remarkable beauty. He duped Warners into giving him rare old cameras that he then had modified into taking a special lens developed for NASA to make a camera that could shoot slow enough to register a scene with only candles for lighting. He sourced the candles made of beeswax that only the Catholic church were having specially made. Costumes and natural light were utilised to make the scenes resemble paintings from the era, over which Kubricks cameras would then linger lovingly. The length of the shots and languid pacing gave an air of elegance and extravagance, the gilt edged canvas on which to paint his morality fable. Technical virtuosity aside it would be a mistake to consider the film merely a vehicle for showing off, as it is always used in service of the story and atmosphere. If his intention was to ‘out english’ the english, given the scandal Clockwork Orange wrought and the perception of him as an American-hellion interloper, it worked. The pace is stately and the brilliant soundtrack of classical and Irish music, fierce counterpoint to the rogueries contained within the tale, which is essentially a rumination on superficiality.

Indeed, in Barry, Kubrick had found someone deeply superficial. The novel itself was much commented on as being ‘without a hero’, and Lyndon is a mass of contradictions. He is a very feminine character in some ways, relying on good looks and charm to wend his way through the labryinthine personal politics of 18th century courtesanry, yet he’ll fight a knock down brawl with a huge soldier in his regiment. A coward when looking inwards for fear of discovering his empty shell of a heart, he’ll fight a duel for honour or spite and manfully stand his ground, or carry his captain from a burning building. His demeanour seems to forever bark ‘what else can I do’? A man not only without answers, but without questions. Barry is eternally unsatisfied, he’s living the poor boy ‘dream’, a gorgeous wife and a country estate, but wants more, to be accepted into English nobility as a peer, an unrealistic ambition at best. All he possesses and all he attains is as empty as the lifeless halls of the mansions we see, like them Barry is a beautiful facade.

O’Neal’s performance was problematic for many critics at the time, but from this distance it looks measured and true. There are some remarkably touching scenes involving Barry and Brian, which is fine acting, and the air of bewilderment that’s needed for a lot of screen time is effectively rendered. Berenson is working much the same furrow. Kubrick seems to be saying that to get ahead in that environment one need only be pretty and amenable and have no scruples. After 250 years one wonders if much has changed? In 2009 we may as well be ruled by a celebritocracy.

Whatever the reasons Kubrick opted for a period melodrama, it would have to be the most under appreciated and misunderstood film in his ouvre. One of the most visually stunning pieces of cinema ever made and with a script written by Kubrick himself, it may be more of a personal valentine to his adopted country than most realised. One of it’s great joys is the standard of writing, both the dialogue but more particulary the magnificent words in Michael Hordens wonderful voiceover. Sheer narrative poetry with breathtaking visuals to match.
The work of a master.