The Dresser

I knew when I started this blog that there would be films on the Best Picture list that were obscure, films that would be hard to find, and films that I just plain had never heard of before and would have probably never found were it not for this project. I also assumed that most of those types of films would have been lesser films that have been mostly forgotten because they either just didn’t hold up or were tied to a moment in time that has since left them behind. Now that I am rapidly approaching the middle of the list, I know better. 

Sometimes a film just hits for a very niche audience, and I wasn’t in that audience for the longest time. Sometimes the reason I haven’t heard of a film is because I simply just didn’t come across it. Indeed, the film I watched this morning is one such movie. It’s not exactly a forgotten film, and it is readily available to stream online through Amazon. It also stars some very talented British thespians. More recently, it was readapted for British television starring Anthony Hopkins, Ian McKellen, and Emily Watson. This adaptation is also available to stream, and I look forward to seeing how this concept can be adapted for a more modern audience while still maintaining the essence of Ronald Harwood’s stage play. 

This is the story of Sir (Albert Finney), a British stage actor renowned for his performances in Shakespearean plays. Except, the film really isn’t about Sir. It’s actually about Norman (Tom Courtenay). Norman is the long-time assistant and dresser for Sir, working efficiently and often thanklessly for the man for decades. The film opens after a performance of Othello at a regional theater in Britain during World War II. As the curtain drops on the performance and the actors are lining up for their curtain call, Sir lectures them on their mistakes made during the show, showing us, the audience, that he is the leader of this group of actors bringing Shakespeare to the public during this time in history.

After the troop relocates to Bradford to perform Sir’s renowned portrayal of King Lear, it becomes obvious that all is not well with the aging actor. His mental capacities are rapidly fading, and it is uncertain if he can perform the part anymore. He forgets his lines, is easily confused and distracted, and lashes out angrily at everybody. But he insists he can go on and, when the time comes, after a brief scare where he blanks and misses his opening cue, goes on to deliver what is considered his best performance of King Lear. But despite his sudden clarity on the stage, all is very much not right with him overall.

This is a film about relationships. Not romantic relationships but the type that develop between two men who have a long-term working relationship. Norman loves Sir, even if it is not a romantic love. Sir has come to rely on Norman, but we never get the sense that that platonic love Norman has is reciprocal. Sir is presented here as bombastic, coming from that style of British acting, full of grand gestures and an overbearing voice. But he is the same on and off the stage as we see in a scene at the train station when the train is leaving before he and his troop have made it aboard. The train engineer ignores the pleas from Norman to hold the train a minute but immediately hits the breaks when Sir arrives and bellows “STOP THAT TRAIN!”

Albert Finney is an interesting choice in the role of Sir. At this point in his career, he was often playing characters far older than he actually was. He’s riffing on Sir Donald Wolfit, a British stage and film actor who was also renowned for his portrayal of King Lear. Wolfit had died in the late 60s and was an inspiration to playwright Ronald Harwood when he wrote the original play. While Finney isn’t doing a one-to-one portrayal of Wolfit, he is channeling the over-the-top mannerisms of the man and using that to craft his own character. He was just coming off a similar bravado performance in the film version of Annie, and there are more than a few similarities between the two performances.

What makes the two different, though, is the cognitive decline that makes this proud and professional man so vulnerable. There is more than mere confusion going on with Sir; there is fear. On some level, Sir is aware that all is not right, and it scares him. He fears he will not remember his lines, even outright stating that he doesn’t know the opening lines to his most famous role. When he is all dressed up in his old-age makeup and wig and is standing just out of sight from the proscenium, he freezes and can’t make his entrance. Being on stage and not knowing your lines has got to be one of an actor’s worst fears, and you can see it on his panicked face. 

During the rather lengthy preparations before the show, Sir makes a comment to Norman that he has begun writing his autobiography. This ultimately turns out to be just a couple of pages’ worth of acknowledgments to those who have meant the most to Sir during his long tenure on the stage. Norman gets an opportunity to read these words during a time when Sir is at his most vulnerable, as he is collapsed in exhaustion after the show. It would seem that Sir has mentioned everyone surrounding him in the theater except for his loyal dresser. We never know for certain why this exclusion exists, but Norman is affronted by this and, after decades of servility and holding back his emotions, he explodes in rage. This is a man who has for years accepted that he is one of the unsung cogs that make Sir the legend that he is, and now, when he should be getting even a little recognition, he is getting left out. On top of that is the realization that his job is coming to an end. Being the Dresser is all he has known for decades now, and that is nearly over.

Identity is a big part of being in the entertainment industry, both in front of the audience and behind the scenes. We all want recognition, even if it is just a passing “Good job,” from someone we respect and trust. In that respect, we can identify with Norman as he has dedicated his life to prepping Sir for the stage. We can also feel for him when he feels like all this work is thankless. Tom Courtenay, whom I primarily know for his standout performance in Doctor Zhivago, is just as good here. It’s a bold performance that straddles the line between normal and over-the-top without quite stepping over that line into silliness. There are moments where his effeminate nature is played for laughs, but mostly we see him for what he is, a man who has dedicated his life to one thing and is now facing having to move on. 

I can’t honestly say I loved everything about this movie. It has a slow, deliberate pace that occasionally tested my patience. But Albert Finney’s and Tom Courtenay’s performances helped smooth some of that out. There are some truly funny moments like the sound department’s frantic efforts to simulate a storm during the performance of King Lear only to have Sir berate them as they lay there, exhausted from the effort. This is laugh-out-loud funny and tells us a lot about Sir as a troop leader. He has an ego that, even as his mind is betraying him and his body is giving up, remains his primary driving force. People who have worked in the theater will recognize Sir and his type, actors that are perfectionists and will stay in the spotlight till they practically collapse dead, the spotlight following them down to the ground. People like that are their own breed of human. We’ll never really know whether leaving Norman’s name out of the acknowledgments was intentional or not. In fact, it seems odd that Sir would acknowledge anyone. Perhaps if that had been the case, Norman wouldn’t have been so hurt by it. 

Academy Award Nominations:

Best Picture: Peter Yates

Best Director: Peter Yates

Best Actor: Tom Courtenay 

Best Actor: Albert Finney

Best Screenplay - Based on Materials from Another Medium: Ronald Harwood

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Release Date: December 6, 1983

Running Time: 118 Minutes

Rated PG

Starring: Albert Finney, Tom Courtenay, Edward Fox, Zena Walker, Eileen Atkins, Michael Gough, and Cathryn Harrison

Directed By: Peter Yates