Topsy-Turvy (1999)

Topsy-Turvy (1999) Mike Leigh [2:40]

Criterion Collection, spine #558

There’s absolutely no reason why I would want to watch a film like Topsy-Turvy. As a rule, I dislike musicals (operettas, in this case), I dislike Gilbert and Sullivan even more, and besides that, the blasted thing’s nearly three hours long. Yet, on the recommendation of one of our library patrons whom I trust, I watched it.

I approached Topsy-Turvy not knowing (or caring) much about Gilbert and Sullivan. I often make ignorant claims such as “I may not know much about ___________ (name your subject, in this case, musicals/operettas), but I know what I like, and this isn’t it.”

So it astounded me that director Mike Leigh was able to compel me both to like these characters and care about what was happening onscreen, which, in a nutshell, is this: 

Librettist W. S. Gilbert (Jim Broadbent) and composer Arthur Sullivan (Allan Corduner) have come to a crossroads in their working relationship. After collaborating on ten operettas, Sullivan thinks it’s time to dissolve their partnership. They’re writing the same old thing over and over, at least it feels that way to Sullivan, who’s ready to write music of greater substance, perhaps a grand opera. Gilbert can’t argue that their latest venture, Princess Ida, is a turkey, yet he’s not giving up, even in the midst of clouds of depression that constantly loom even when things are going well.

The film is roughly divided into three sections. In the first, Leigh sets up his landscape and it is a spectacular one. This representation of the Victorian Era, including its theater, costumes, decor, furnishings, speech and customs, is a wonder to behold. In the midst of this richly fashioned world, Leigh gives us two actors in Broadbent and Corduner who are nothing short of spectacular. (The supporting cast is fantastic, too.) We begin to understand these men, their lives, their loves, and their struggles. This is what great movies do best: take characters to whom you normally wouldn’t give a second thought, and make you care about them. They are, in fact, irresistible. Yet the conflict is not just between Gilbert and Sullivan, but also between the men and their families, their supporters, their creditors, their actors and musicians, and their public. Leigh weaves all of this into a brilliant tapestry that itself becomes as grand as anything Sullivan wishes to compose. 

In the second section, Leigh focuses on the work of producing an operetta. I won’t give you the details, but Gilbert and Sullivan do get back on track, producing a new work that they hope will be a much-needed hit. Viewers might think this section is just sort of a pseudo-documentary on how the theater works - and it is - but the devil, as they say, is in the details, and these details add strength and substance to the characters and weight to the importance of what this new production means to everyone involved. But even more rewarding for us, the audience, is the absolute joy in the act of creating that’s on display here. There’s one subplot that runs throughout this section involving a singer and his featured song being cut from the production. This little slice-of-theater-life is so stunning in its honesty and celebration of our need for self-expression. 

The final act isn’t really an act, but a brief series of three scenes of great impact, the significance of which you might miss if you’re not carefully paying attention to the women in the film, women who, up to this point, have seemed little more than supporting players. I won’t tell you much about these scenes, except that they involve Gilbert’s wife (Lesley Manville), Sullivan’s American mistress (Eleanor David), and one of the production’s saddest members, the frequently drunken singer Leonora Braham (Shirley Henderson). These scenes taken individually are powerful, but taken together, one after another, give us something profound, moving, and lasting. Topsy-Turvy gives us a taste of what it’s like to create art, yet never neglects the necessary toil required to produce it. And in the end, we realize that even in the midst of the artistic endeavors we know best, there’s always something that might’ve escaped us all those previous times, something that suddenly surprises us with pure delight. 

(Topsy-Turvy is rated R for nudity.)