Wittgenstein

directed by Derek Jarman

at the Harvard Film Archive

December 3-12

Experiencing "Wittgenstein" is like falling down a rabbit hole into the wonderland of Derek Jarman's eccentric and inevitably bewitching imagination. although sometimes slow, and fortunately no more than an hour and a half, the story of this strange philosopher/soldier/teacher/wanna-be-proletarian is amusing, tender, and visually intriguing. "Wittgenstein" is no PBS biographical documentary--it's hip Lewis Carroll for the 90s.

We begin with the young Ludwig (Clancy Chassay), an impudent, clever boy in a strange toga, who introduces us to his family: a rich, overly-educated Viennese household. It is the boy who narrates this film of his life, accompanied by a green fuzzy Martian (Nabil Shaban) who insists on engaging the precocious child in philosophical discussion. Together they travel to England and we watch Ludwig's intellectual development from an imaginative, over-stimulated youth into a sober, work-obsessed pupil of Bertrand Russell (Micheal Gough) and an awkward frequenter of the oh-so-intellectually fashionable Bloomsbury crowd, including the lovely Lady Ottoline Morrell (Tilda Swinton).

Gough is completely believable as the patient but frustrated tutor and philosophical genius. Pompous and self-indulgent, this Russell is especially hilarious with his lover Lady Ottoline. Swinton, also well-known for her recent role as "Orlando," performs with a silly affectedness that would be shallow in any other film but here seems just perfect. Outlandish costumes and all, she sweeps into the stage-like set with just enough self-possession to keep from seeming pitiable in the face of Russell's abuse.

These colorful performances by better-known faces almost threaten to overshadow the strong work of Karl Johnson as the older Wittgenstein. Sometimes bewildering in his anger and self-hatred, at other times sweet and naive, this complex performance of a tormented soul is both intelligent without being pretentious, and intelligently humane. Also of note are Kevin Collins as Johnny, the lover of Maynard Keynes (John Quentin), as well as of Wittgenstein himself--sort of. Jarman is intent upon portraying homosexual love both as it is manifested in Keyne's and Johnny's relationship and as it is denied and gradually, tacitly ackknowledged by Ludwig.

But the tangled plot never seems too top-heavy because Jarman insists on making light of his subject matter without trivializing it. The movie retains a tongue-in-cheek attitude throughout. The Striking scenes--more sets, really--consist of one or two pieces of colorful, improbable furniture as amusing and bizarre as the characters. Working with a low budget and limited space, Jarman has created a film that verges on the theatrical in appearance, but is absolutely filmic in its quirky, fragmented narration and smugly post-modern sensibility. The directing, considering the circumstances, is skillful and delightful, albeit somewhat coy. It's also interesting to remember that the script itself was cowritten by Jarman, Terry Eagleton (the literary critic), and Ken Butler. They have succeeded in writing dialogue that can be too self-consciously witty at times, but in general is extremely effective in relating the story of this philosopher's life, and a complicated life at that, in about 75 minutes. Not bad.

If you go expecting to have certain points of your Moral Reasoning or European Intellectual History class made clear, "Wittgenstein" won't be too helpful. Think of it instead as a chance to wander around in the strange, collective universes of Derek Jarman, one of the best directors around, and Wittgenstein, probably one of the most filmable philosophers.