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.