Some People

Yesterday evening I saw a polished little gem of a movie, 'Quartet.'  I had not heard of this film until my friends suggested we go see it after dinner at India Palace.  Indian cuisine and a movie?  Sign me up and let's go!

The film was a gentle coda of the lives of musicians who currently live at Beecham House, a retirement home for such folk.  In one memorable scene, Maggie Smith, a diva who has just arrived and  is given the grand tour, comments on the portrait of Sir Thomas Beecham, namesake of the retirement home.  The doctor/tour guide not only points out the portrait but tells her that Beecham was a famous conductor.  Of course Maggie knows this and retorts, "Yes, and his grandfather was a chemist who made laxatives.  Entirely appropriate for this place."  

Turns out the acerbic Maggie (or the character of Jean in the film), has a former husband living at the home and he has never forgiven her for a past transgression that changed the course of their lives.  In case you want to see the movie, I'll say no more about that. 

The film is replete with scenes of people not going gently into that good night.  They laugh, they argue, they fight, they piss into the shrubbery (mostly Wilf, a delightful reprobate who boasts of his 'seasoned wood'), and above all, they continue to make music.  The retirement home is an English estate and requires money to continue in business, so the director/doctor involves the residents in putting on a gala event to both celebrate the birthday of Verdi and save the home.  As the planning and practices take place, old angers and jealousies come bubbling to the surface which threaten the success of the gala.

The biggest threat is that Jean, her former husband (Reginald), Wilf (played by a deliciously randy Billy Connolly), and Cissy will not be able to perform Verdi's magnificent quartet from 'Rigoletto' due to past transgressions and current issues.  Cissy is a sweet character, whose episodes of dementia must be overcome somehow, and Jean must deal with her fear of failure (how can she possibly perform when she knows her voice might not hit those high notes?  she, of the twelve-curtain-call past?).  And then there's long-suffering Reginald, who struggles to find fulfillment through forgiveness.

In a quietly stunning visual metaphor, Jean and Reginald take a walk under a torturously-twisted ancient oak.   They, like the tree, have withstood the test of time, even though their bodies bear the inevitable marks of that rough passage.  From that point, you just know the quartet will sing and sing triumphantly.

All in all, this film is a comforting reminder of the constantly rejuvenating power of music and the magic of love that allows us to forgive and be forgiven.  If some people can love for life, why not us?  And while we're at it, let's sing, too.