Barry Lyndon

Format: Film; DVD

Time in possession: 11 years.

I had bought this movie during my time as a record store clerk because I was a pretentious nerd in his early 20’s who was fond of telling people how much I liked Stanley Kubrick and how cool I was because I’d seen Full Metal Jacket at age 11. I bought all the Kubrick DVDs I could, including Barry Lyndon just so I could tell people I had all of them on my shelf because I was a douche like that.

Once I got home, I read the synopsis. Something about 18th century English nobility. Wealth and privilege. 183 minutes. Zzzzzz.

Add to that the soft-focus photos of actors on the back of the package with powdered wigs and powdered faces and I just knew this would be a snoozefest. It went untouched in my collection through 5 moves and the passing of more than a decade.

Turns out I had Kubrick’s best movie just sitting there. Waiting.

Goddamn does this movie look good.

Maybe waiting until I was ready for it. Waiting until I as a 30 year old man who could fully appreciate the cinematography, the lush settings, the perfectly selected classical music, and most importantly the plot — relatable, expansive and ultimately tragic.

The kind of movie that could only be made in the all-in artistic environment of Hollywood in the 1970’s. The type of movie that fully utilizes all 183 minutes of its running time so that by the end you feel like you’ve been somewhere else.

I don’t necessarily want to spoil too much of the plot or the narrative shifts it takes but I can say with certainty this is the best movie I’ve seen that begins with a kid losing his virginity to his cousin. That would be Redmond Barry, our Irish poverty-stricken protagonist played here by a surprisingly effective Ryan O’Neal (who I had always only considered to be the guy from that Love Story movie my mom loved so much), who’s familial longings are shot down when the cousin is courted by a wealthy officer in the English army.

Well, Redmond doesn’t take too kindly to this and shoots the cousin-stealer in a duel (one of many in the film) and flees to Dublin to begin his quest to obtain some measure of wealth and status in the world.

You know, just typical teenage stuff.

Except Redmond’s journey takes from those humble beginnings and just about every trapping young men go through in life while they navigate their place in this world that had seemed so small before but opens up violently, suddenly and in ways that seem applicable to the life of a young man even today.

Kubrick really had lot to say here about growing up.

How crazy and the irrational a young man gets after his first love rejects him. The trying on of different identities which you project outwardly to the world. How one’s upbringing shapes a man irreversibly.

You’re with Redmond pretty much every step of the way. From boyhood to manhood.

You know him. You can sympathize with a lot of his actions. You’re with him from his time in the army, to his foray into being a spying, to his career as a gambler and ultimately his ill-fated step up the social ladder.

As Act I ends and Act II begins in which you begin to view Redmond from more of a distance and one’s whole perspective on the man changes dramatically. The more status he acquires, the further away the audience moves from him. It’s at this point the picture of Redmond Barry becomes clear.

Or does it?

The movie will play again in your mind as soon as the credits roll. Was Raymond Barry actually a villain? That will be entirely up to you.

No easy answers. No cop-outs.

Cinema at its best.

Will this one be leaving my collection? Yes. So I can replace it with the Blu Ray release and experience it again in all it’s beautiful, bittersweet splendor.

And I may need to consider picking worse movies to review for this blog.

Thanks, Stan.