'The Ruling Class', released in 1972, is a farce on the British aristocracy, and (at least from this distance), you have to wonder if it is much less relevant today than when it was made. There is still a House of Lords, and it has taken the intervening 32 years to have fox-hunting almost banned.
Briefly, the Earl of Guerney dies in a ridiculously fetishistic manner, and leaves his estate to his son, Jack, much to the outrage of his family, since Jack has been a voluntary mental patient for the past 8 years. A plan is hatched to marry him off, get a mail heir, and then through diverse intrigues, gain possession of the estate.
Unfortunately Jack books himself out and shows up. Jack, who believes himself to be God, is played by Peter O'Toole, resplendent in Jesus hairdo and varying hilariously between Biblical sounding pronouncements and schizophrenic word-salad nonsense. Generally he is entirely manic, except when he is sleeping on the huge wooden cross, in full view of anyone who walks into the manor.
This was made two or three years before O'Toole literally almost drank himself to death, and one gets the feeling that they didn't so much write this part for him as set him loose on the set and tell him 'Be yourself'. This isn't meant as an insult. O'Toole is utterly magnetic, whether making Shakespearean pronouncements, running madly about, or as his even more insane incarnation as Jack the Ripper after he is 'cured'.
The film lurches from hilarious satire to very dark humour, containing scenes which are genuinely alarming if not outright terrifying (again, mostly thanks to O'Toole). Other standouts include Arthur Lowe as the long-suffering Communist butler, and Alistair Sim as a hilariously doddering bishop.
The film itself is all over the shop. Even at the most unexpected moments, the cast is likely to suddenly break out into a musical number. Another schizophrenic patient is wheeled in who proclaims himself to be the 'High-Voltage God', and who can shoot 10 million volts from his fingertips (whether the lightning bolts crackling from his fingers are imaginary or real, who knows?). It can lurch from lunacy like this to genuinely chilling scenes including brutal violence and murder. Generally speaking the second half of the film, after Jack's 'cure' is much darker.
The flaws? Well, I think the second half is definitely unnecessary long. My VHS copy is 156 minutes, and if the current version is 141 minutes, that could be an improvement, if they carved some of the later scenes out. Basically it out-stays its welcome a little. Having made its point, it rather harps on it.
All the same, there is nothing really like this in British cinema (except perhaps the even more obscure, and even more mad, but rather less scalding 'Sir Henry at Rawlinson End'). The cast is uniformly terrific, some of the dialogue is priceless, and it has some of the funniest scenes from 70's British cinema. You do need to be able to roll along with the changing mood of the film though, because what for the most part is a hilarious satire develops into a very, very black comedy.
Briefly, the Earl of Guerney dies in a ridiculously fetishistic manner, and leaves his estate to his son, Jack, much to the outrage of his family, since Jack has been a voluntary mental patient for the past 8 years. A plan is hatched to marry him off, get a mail heir, and then through diverse intrigues, gain possession of the estate.
Unfortunately Jack books himself out and shows up. Jack, who believes himself to be God, is played by Peter O'Toole, resplendent in Jesus hairdo and varying hilariously between Biblical sounding pronouncements and schizophrenic word-salad nonsense. Generally he is entirely manic, except when he is sleeping on the huge wooden cross, in full view of anyone who walks into the manor.
This was made two or three years before O'Toole literally almost drank himself to death, and one gets the feeling that they didn't so much write this part for him as set him loose on the set and tell him 'Be yourself'. This isn't meant as an insult. O'Toole is utterly magnetic, whether making Shakespearean pronouncements, running madly about, or as his even more insane incarnation as Jack the Ripper after he is 'cured'.
The film lurches from hilarious satire to very dark humour, containing scenes which are genuinely alarming if not outright terrifying (again, mostly thanks to O'Toole). Other standouts include Arthur Lowe as the long-suffering Communist butler, and Alistair Sim as a hilariously doddering bishop.
The film itself is all over the shop. Even at the most unexpected moments, the cast is likely to suddenly break out into a musical number. Another schizophrenic patient is wheeled in who proclaims himself to be the 'High-Voltage God', and who can shoot 10 million volts from his fingertips (whether the lightning bolts crackling from his fingers are imaginary or real, who knows?). It can lurch from lunacy like this to genuinely chilling scenes including brutal violence and murder. Generally speaking the second half of the film, after Jack's 'cure' is much darker.
The flaws? Well, I think the second half is definitely unnecessary long. My VHS copy is 156 minutes, and if the current version is 141 minutes, that could be an improvement, if they carved some of the later scenes out. Basically it out-stays its welcome a little. Having made its point, it rather harps on it.
All the same, there is nothing really like this in British cinema (except perhaps the even more obscure, and even more mad, but rather less scalding 'Sir Henry at Rawlinson End'). The cast is uniformly terrific, some of the dialogue is priceless, and it has some of the funniest scenes from 70's British cinema. You do need to be able to roll along with the changing mood of the film though, because what for the most part is a hilarious satire develops into a very, very black comedy.