Every now and then, when I'm in the mood to watch a sweet little gay romance, I dig out my VHS copy of "Beautiful Thing." The film has its flaws. Exchanges of dialog that aren't quite believable. (They perhaps worked better on stage than on screen since we expect less realism on stage.) Ben Daniels was miscast as Tony, or at least needed better make-up and wardrobe: he doesn't look young enough or privileged enough for that character. And then there's that annoying closing dance in the courtyard...
...But before I launch into that pet critique, let's talk about what works well in this film. Excellent use of actual locations in Thamesmead: the film gives you the feeling of settling into the real-world geography. Great music--and I have in mind not only the Mamas and the Papas but also the very clever selection from "The Sound of Music" and the sweet, understated John Altman instrumental that recurs through the movie. Superb acting of the kind you expect from the British: even the small parts feel like three-dimensional, fully thought-out characters. The two male leads aren't especially attractive (as would have been required if this had been an American production), but they make the romance so endearing that they somehow seem to get cuter as the film progresses.
My great regret about this film--the thing that keeps me from enjoying it as un-self-consciously as I would like, and as the filmmakers presumably hope I would--is that closing scene where Ste and Jamie dance in the courtyard, ignoring the crowd around them. My understanding (someone correct me if I'm mistaken) is that in the play, that final dance occurred in the relatively more private space of Jamie's balcony, which makes so much more sense. I can understand why Jonathan Harvey and Hettie Macdonald would be tempted to provide a more dramatic, defiant, celebratory coming out for the end of the movie. And I have tried so hard over the years to justify that decision in my head as a believable event in the world of this movie: Ste and Jamie are both accustomed to being victims of violence, so the decision to live openly is a knowing, calculated risk. Ste is presumably leaving the estate to move into the new pub with Jamie and Sandra, so he's no longer in danger from his father and brother, as everyone had been so afraid earlier. Jamie's making foolish decisions in the reckless euphoria of coming out, but Sandra's there watching out for him, glaring at the crowd like a mother velociraptor, daring anyone to threaten her child.
I've tried to explain the closing scene in all those ways. But the fact remains that after all the work this film went through to make itself believable--the locations, the superb acting--it lapses inexplicably at the final, crucial moment into a fairy tale ending. That was an unfortunate decision, and tagging the film "An urban fairytale" doesn't suffice to make the decision palatable. This film simply has the wrong ending. I've seen Harvey say that he wanted to provide a positive image of hope for gay working-class youth. Those young people would have been better served, and the story would have been sweeter, had the film stayed more believable up through the end.
Still, the film's worth digging out from time to time for another viewing.
...But before I launch into that pet critique, let's talk about what works well in this film. Excellent use of actual locations in Thamesmead: the film gives you the feeling of settling into the real-world geography. Great music--and I have in mind not only the Mamas and the Papas but also the very clever selection from "The Sound of Music" and the sweet, understated John Altman instrumental that recurs through the movie. Superb acting of the kind you expect from the British: even the small parts feel like three-dimensional, fully thought-out characters. The two male leads aren't especially attractive (as would have been required if this had been an American production), but they make the romance so endearing that they somehow seem to get cuter as the film progresses.
My great regret about this film--the thing that keeps me from enjoying it as un-self-consciously as I would like, and as the filmmakers presumably hope I would--is that closing scene where Ste and Jamie dance in the courtyard, ignoring the crowd around them. My understanding (someone correct me if I'm mistaken) is that in the play, that final dance occurred in the relatively more private space of Jamie's balcony, which makes so much more sense. I can understand why Jonathan Harvey and Hettie Macdonald would be tempted to provide a more dramatic, defiant, celebratory coming out for the end of the movie. And I have tried so hard over the years to justify that decision in my head as a believable event in the world of this movie: Ste and Jamie are both accustomed to being victims of violence, so the decision to live openly is a knowing, calculated risk. Ste is presumably leaving the estate to move into the new pub with Jamie and Sandra, so he's no longer in danger from his father and brother, as everyone had been so afraid earlier. Jamie's making foolish decisions in the reckless euphoria of coming out, but Sandra's there watching out for him, glaring at the crowd like a mother velociraptor, daring anyone to threaten her child.
I've tried to explain the closing scene in all those ways. But the fact remains that after all the work this film went through to make itself believable--the locations, the superb acting--it lapses inexplicably at the final, crucial moment into a fairy tale ending. That was an unfortunate decision, and tagging the film "An urban fairytale" doesn't suffice to make the decision palatable. This film simply has the wrong ending. I've seen Harvey say that he wanted to provide a positive image of hope for gay working-class youth. Those young people would have been better served, and the story would have been sweeter, had the film stayed more believable up through the end.
Still, the film's worth digging out from time to time for another viewing.