User Reviews

Kenneth Tynan was a failed actor that made his name as a critic and founder of the English National Theatre. They say they never built a statue to a critic - but maybe Tynan was the nearest miss.

From the first frame to the last this is clearly a low budget TV play which hopes to get by with lots of close ups, old film, tricks shots, music and good acting. Tynan's voice-over further papers over cracks and holes; although comedic actor Rob Brydon lacks the true passion and drive of the man who was a modern thinker and, famously, the first man to use the f word on UK TV.

The stutter - that held him back as an actor - is understated too. The effort to overcome it remains one of his greatest achievements. Small though it may sound.

If you have read up on English theatrical history than it is easy enough to follow, but others will struggle. The main plank is the staging of the controversial play Oh Calcutta! One of the first "erotic reviews" to hit the stage.

Julian Sands is convincing as Lawrence Olivier in his middle years, but it is strange to see a man who made media history being pushed to one side for a minor player. However Sands voice only occasionally convinces as Stagedoor Larry.

Normally you would have to have done some background reading or already be well versed in the life and works of Tynan before you'd recognise this "dramatisation" as crass nonsense. Fortunately this was not the case here, since it was immediately followed by John Lahr's excellent documentary profile of the famous critic, thereby almost instantly exposing the play's clay feet.

It was evident from the documentary that the drama had more or less settled on the *least* interesting part of Tynan's life, when his days as a critic were effectively over. By concentrating on the more "notorious" period of his life, the first f-word on TV in 1965, his praise for pornography, the production of his infamous "Oh! Calcutta!" erotic revue and the emphysema which killed him, there was very little exploration of Tynan's position as Critic Emeritus which was the reason he was even tolerated by the likes of Olivier and Lyttleton (respectively director and chairman of the National Theatre in the 1960s when the film is set).

From Lahr we learned that Olivier had never forgiven Tynan for giving his wife Vivien Leigh a bad review, and had only employed him at the National in order to have him (as President Johnson might have said) "on the inside, pissing out". But the drama gave the distinct impression that Olivier was Tynan's closest and most loyal friend, which was certainly not the case. The most important contribution made by Lahr's film, however, was by the many instances of the real Kenneth Tynan on film which indicated that he did not, by and large, talk like Jeremy Clarkson on Mogadon, as Brydon had him doing. Brydon was so completely miscast, I actually thought that perhaps I had misunderstood and that the BBC had produced a *parody* of Kenneth Tynan, of the kind Rob Brydon might well have produced himself. With his jet-black hair (Tynan was relatively fair-haired) and his total inability to express through his emotions the diamond-sharp wit, intelligence and charm of the real man, this was definitely a case of "stick to the day job, Rob!" So far from the usual feat of expanding and embodying a historical figure and giving him some semblance of life, so that we the viewers can have an inkling of what it was like to actually know the man, Brydon left Tynan even more or a cipher than before.

The only really authentic part of the drama was Julian Sands's very close resemblance to the Laurence Olivier of the late 1960s - he really did look more like a chartered accountant than our greatest theatrical knight at that time - although the unmistakable mannerisms of Olivier's speech were only achieved patchily.

Why, if at all, did Kenneth Tynan matter? Although associated with the theatre his whole life, his role, as critic and script consultant, was hardly a major creative one, while his dedication to the cause of bringing pornography to the London stage, which might once have seemed fashionable (and, in the face of censorship, brave), now seems merely tawdry. This drama, based on his diaries, reveals the man as an extremely opinionated and self-regarding individual, albeit one possessed of a certain unique charm. But it's hard to share the subject's own preoccupation with himself. Smoking yourself to an early grave is not in itself a mark of greatness; and while there are funny moments, it's hard to escape the conclusion that on this evidence, Tynan just wasn't interesting enough to merit the indulgence of a film of his life.

In 1963, flamboyant theatre critic Kenneth Tynan is made 'literary manager' of the National Theatre. His controversial views set him on a collision course with the NT's Chairman and although Tynan has a supporter in Laurence Olivier he can't always count on the older, more conventional man to take his side. After deliberately and gleefully saying the word "f*ck" on a BBC1 arts shows, Tynan's position is further weakened but continues his quest to bring erotic material to the London stage despite widespread opposition and his own deteriorating health.

I had no prior knowledge of Tynan before watching this film so I must admit that, unlike the other reviewers on this site, I didn't have a reality against which to judge this film. By the sounds of it this is probably for the best since those that do have this knowledge didn't seem to be that taken by it at all. This is not to suggest that I thought it was great but just that I maybe found the story a bit more interesting than those that already know it. Having said that I must admit that jumping right to the more notorious part of Tynan's career, it left me wondering why he had become well known and why he seemed to have the respect he had (although others have suggested that he and Olivier were not actually that close). Certainly swearing on television and trying to push the boundaries of censorship as far as he could aren't enough to mark him down as something worth taking time out to learn about – at the time he probably just came off as being shocking for the sake of it, nowadays he would have little to do and would just be one of many, many films, TV shows etc trying to win ratings by just pushing the boundaries of taste.

So by focusing so totally on this part of his life I just found myself being bored by him as a person and grew increasingly bemused by his muddled morals and seeming inability to be considerate to those around him, whether professional or personal. The delivery of the story is professional enough and looks good but with the material being so limited throughout, delivery alone cannot do it. The cast are mixed (remembering of course that I'm not familiar with the real personalities). Brydon tries hard but he does seem miscast – too obvious and smutty, both of which further took away from the impression of someone famous and respected. He is quite comic and works well with that aspect of the character but not anything other. Sands is good as Olivier, Cochrane is an über-Tory and fits the character portrayed. McCormack provides the only genuine emotion in the whole film and is impressive – just a shame that she stands almost totally alone. Regardless of the rest of the cast, the film belongs to Brydon and unfortunately he is not quite up to the task.

Overall this is nothing more than a so-so film. It is professionally put together but, despite starting off interesting, it quickly gets consumed by the smutty part of Tynan's life without giving us any idea of why he reached the position he held or why he was tolerated. Gradually I lost interest and found the film unwilling to (or uninterested in) questioning the rather unpleasant person presented to us. It just about has enough forward motion to it to keep it moving but generally it is a fairly bland drama that will be of limited interest and limited value to the vast majority of viewers.