---Warning: This review may contain spoilers!------
Claude Whatham's "Sweet William" is an unpleasant, unmoving, and largely uninteresting piece of tripe about an obnoxious, philandering playwright (Sam Waterston as the title character). William seduces a young British woman named Ann (Jenny Agutter), knocks her up, and abandons her after she gives birth. Along the way, Ann makes a shocking discovery: not only is William already married, but he's feeding lines to both her and his wife, and pitting them against each other.
The picture has two insurmountable problems, both rooted in a flawed script: first, it doesn't ground the viewer in a definite point-of-view. The most likely (though pedestrian) approach would be to assume Ann's clouded perspective about William, conceal his sliminess from the audience, and reveal his dark side to everyone gradually. But this doesn't happen. William is as transparent as glass -- we know he's a scuzzbag from his first few moments onscreen. With his pushy come-on and his pied piper-ish walk, Waterston's character seems about as trustworthy as the piano teacher who rapes Margaux Hemingway in "Lipstick." So, why does Ann fall for him? To answer this question, we must either: 1) Descend to the level of the 'idiot plot,' by regarding Agutter's character as imperceptive, which significantly damages the tone of the script and causes us to lose faith in Ann at a fairly early stage of the film; or 2) retain our faith in Ann at any cost, which destroys the picture's credibility.
The second problem is that the film lacks a concrete mood -- it wavers uncomfortably between Alfie-like farce and movie-of-the-week tragedy.
Agutter delivers a rocky, uneven performance; she's convincing some of the time but bursts into sudden fits of rage at the wrong moments (often without definite motivation), and doesn't deliver strong enough reactions following her shocking discoveries about William. As always, Waterston's presence lifts the film half a notch, but even he can't save this picture. (His confidence must have been shattered after acting in two embarrassing duds -- this and the notorious "Heaven's Gate" --- the same year). The film offers a strong supporting cast of British players, but most are underutilized; we know we're in trouble when the great British actor Arthur Lowe ("O' Lucky Man!") only delivers one line.
Even the visuals in "Sweet William" are grimy -- it paints an interesting 1980ish aesthetic glimpse of working class London, but not exactly an attractive one. It is fascinating to think that a picture like this was actually shot and released to mainstream theatres, in England, circa 1980, because it cries obscurity.
What we have, in the end, is a sallow, gloomy, depressing, and significantly flawed picture. The last image of the film -- Ann gazing out the window, baby in arms, while her flatmate tells her that William is "gone forever" -- may leave viewers with nausea in their stomachs and contempt for all of the characters.
Claude Whatham's "Sweet William" is an unpleasant, unmoving, and largely uninteresting piece of tripe about an obnoxious, philandering playwright (Sam Waterston as the title character). William seduces a young British woman named Ann (Jenny Agutter), knocks her up, and abandons her after she gives birth. Along the way, Ann makes a shocking discovery: not only is William already married, but he's feeding lines to both her and his wife, and pitting them against each other.
The picture has two insurmountable problems, both rooted in a flawed script: first, it doesn't ground the viewer in a definite point-of-view. The most likely (though pedestrian) approach would be to assume Ann's clouded perspective about William, conceal his sliminess from the audience, and reveal his dark side to everyone gradually. But this doesn't happen. William is as transparent as glass -- we know he's a scuzzbag from his first few moments onscreen. With his pushy come-on and his pied piper-ish walk, Waterston's character seems about as trustworthy as the piano teacher who rapes Margaux Hemingway in "Lipstick." So, why does Ann fall for him? To answer this question, we must either: 1) Descend to the level of the 'idiot plot,' by regarding Agutter's character as imperceptive, which significantly damages the tone of the script and causes us to lose faith in Ann at a fairly early stage of the film; or 2) retain our faith in Ann at any cost, which destroys the picture's credibility.
The second problem is that the film lacks a concrete mood -- it wavers uncomfortably between Alfie-like farce and movie-of-the-week tragedy.
Agutter delivers a rocky, uneven performance; she's convincing some of the time but bursts into sudden fits of rage at the wrong moments (often without definite motivation), and doesn't deliver strong enough reactions following her shocking discoveries about William. As always, Waterston's presence lifts the film half a notch, but even he can't save this picture. (His confidence must have been shattered after acting in two embarrassing duds -- this and the notorious "Heaven's Gate" --- the same year). The film offers a strong supporting cast of British players, but most are underutilized; we know we're in trouble when the great British actor Arthur Lowe ("O' Lucky Man!") only delivers one line.
Even the visuals in "Sweet William" are grimy -- it paints an interesting 1980ish aesthetic glimpse of working class London, but not exactly an attractive one. It is fascinating to think that a picture like this was actually shot and released to mainstream theatres, in England, circa 1980, because it cries obscurity.
What we have, in the end, is a sallow, gloomy, depressing, and significantly flawed picture. The last image of the film -- Ann gazing out the window, baby in arms, while her flatmate tells her that William is "gone forever" -- may leave viewers with nausea in their stomachs and contempt for all of the characters.