The Horse's Mouth (1958)

So I took a chance on another Alec Guinness comedy. I'm not sure why I put it on my queue, but Netflix describes it as one of his strangest, making it perhaps even more of a gamble. I learned later that director Robert Neame made some dramas I enjoyed but also comedies that didn't do much for me.

Guinness plays the oddly named Gulley Jimson, a little-known painter. He has trouble making ends meet that way, so he resorts to criminal, legally gray, or just plain undignified means. Unlike most scoundrels, he seems to care more about leaving his artistic mark than making money. For example, when some aristocrats want to buy an older painting (in his ex's tenacious possession), he decides to paint right on their blank wall without express permission during their vacation. Another act involves a group mural on a church slated for demolition. (The title connects to a throwaway line that IMDb users haven't seen fit to record.)

Given the shifting arcs, it's rather tricky to write a synopsis that does the whole thing justice. Despite a 97-minute runtime, it feels long, if only because it keeps looking set to wrap up only to move on to another development. I suspect extra dense source material: In the accompanying interview, Neame says that he couldn't finish the Joyce Cary book when Claude Rains introduced it to him; when Guinness also pressed him, he learned to like it but still couldn't envision a cinematic adaptation. It took Guinness' own Oscar-nominated screenplay to make the film possible.

I'll give THM credit for standing out, partly with the fairly talented paintings and partly with perhaps the most memorable Guinness role this side of Obi-Wan Kenobi. With his idiosyncratic mannerisms and froggy Cockney rasp, I might not have recognized him. Gulley is hardly likable, but I can sympathize with his dichotomous artist side. One minute, he's in love with his work and deems it ingenious; the next, he calls himself a worthless fraud and the profession horrendous.

The attitude he espouses at any moment may depend on the present company, which generally does a fine job playing off him. He can't stand the stubborn, stuttering youth, "Nosey," who idolizes him, except when Nosey does a favor for him. (Sadly, the actor died of meningitis at 18 before the production had finished; some of his lines are dubbed in by a superb mimic.) Around most others, whether prospective clients/sponsors or his perpetually annoyed semi-girlfriend, he tries harder to be ingratiating. Then there's his frenemy, a sculptor played by Michael Gough, who's even more eccentric and less respectful of conventions than he is.

While IMDb classifies the movie strictly as a comedy, Neame rightly states that it has a serious side. That may, in fact, be where it most excels. As typical for Guinness, I didn't find all that many moments funny; too few are highly exaggerated, and those tend to involve Gough in some capacity. The ending leaves you to wonder whether what happens afterward will be good or bad, if you still care.

I think I'll make this my last Guinness comedy. It's just interesting enough to make a decent stopping point.