Topsy-Turvy (1999) USA Home Entertainment DVD

by ANDY IHNATKO

"Topsy-Turvy" is a charming film. A perfectly and wonderfully charming story about Gilbert & Sullivan and the tortuous development of "The Mikado," their greatest work.

I just wish it had a whole lot more to offer than consistent charm. As quaint as it always is to watch British people leaping about in funny old clothes – and as pleased as this deeply inbred G&S fan is to see many of the legends and stories behind "Mikado" played out in full color and Dolby stereo – the story is often tedious and befuddling.

But the basic framework is straightforward enough. Gilbert & Sullivan, their fame and fortunes already amply established with such smash-hits as "H.M.S. Pinafore," "The Pirates of Penzance" and "Iolanthe," are debuting their latest operetta, "Princess Ida." It's a success in the same way the third release in a teen slasher-flick franchise is a success: there are long opening lines at the box office but plenty of grumblings in from the critics that the thing works a well-beaten path and that its creators just might have finally run out of fresh ideas.

And even Sir Arthur Sullivan shares that view. Sullivan was a wunderkind composer, of whom the British highbrow community had expected much by the way of Great Art. All his life, he'd seen his collaboration with Gilbert as merely a bit of highly-profitable dilly-dallying until he stepped up and singlehandedly gave the human race hope for a better tomorrow through a Serious Opera. Now facing middle age, health problems, and a collaborator seemingly obsessed with "Topsy-Turvy" – stories that center on farce and whimsy, as opposed to towering epics about prostitutes dying of consumption in freezing garrets – Sullivan wants out. He rejects Gilbert's next libretto out-of-hand and announces his determination to leave the operetta biz completely.

Hot stuff. Here you have a real-life power troika: Gilbert, the gruff and precise craftsman who sees nothing wrong with writing crowd-pleasers; Sullivan, a part-time hedonist who's made his pile and is now looking towards Loftier Things; and finally, producer D'Oyly Carte, their theatrical partner, frustrated by the impasse and holding binding contracts but unwilling to slay the golden goose by doing anything tacky.

All the better that these key roles are so successfully filled, particularly by Jim Broadbent as W.S. Gilbert. He's a big, goofy walrus, with an intimidating presence that keeps his actors in line, yet there's also that sharpness of wit and whimsy that reminds me that Gilbert was the Harry Shearer or Albert Brooks of his day. It's actually a little off-putting afterwards (in the DVD's supplemental materials) to see Broadbent simply as himself. After commiting yourself so completely to believing his rendering of Gilbert, seeing him in a chair discussing the movie is a lot like seeing a Disney performer sitting backstage with the head of his Mickey Mouse costume off.

When "Topsy-Turvy"'s narrative sticks to its central track of bringing "The Mikado" to the stage, it succeeds. But it keeps getting distracted by its own fascination with its characters. Ultimately I felt like I wasn't being told a story but instead was eavesdropping on two Gilbert & Sullivan fanatics' excited conversation about their favorite legends.

I suppose the best way to put it is that at least 50% of the film consists of footage that in any other film would only ever be seen in the "Deleted Scenes" section of the DVD. One of "Mikado"'s lead performers has a hidden drug problem. Every time one of those scenes comes up, I impulsively stab my thumb on the "Audio" button of my remote. I expect to hear director Mike Leigh saying "It's historically accurate, actually. And Martin Savage did a great job with this material. But in the editing room it became clear that as interesting as this material was on its own, we were dealing with a minor character and a plotline which has (a) absolutely no payoff and (b) absolutely no connection or relevance – subtle or overt – to the rest of the movie."

And there are a half-dozen other dead-end subthreads. We get a scene with Gilbert's estranged mother and a couple of scenes with a female lead who has an ongoing personal problem that might force her to be fired from the company. And when will directors understand that a scene in which actors merely rehearse their dialogue is indistinguishable from actual film of the actual actors actually rehearsing? Why not give us some footage of the second-lead tucking in at the catering table? I'd actually prefer it, provided it were only half as long as a couple of the rehearsal scenes in "Topsy-Turvy."

Every scene in a movie needs to at least seem important. Usually a scene achieves that by either moving the story forward or lending added resonance to other bits in the film. Yeah, sometimes you can throw in a scene which does neither yet is a Delightful And Iconoclastic Oasis, but if you screw it up you'll just kill the story's whole momentum...as all of these land mines do to "Topsy Turvy." We just don't know enough about these minor characters to care about what they do when they close the doors to their dressing rooms. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure what, specifically, they are doing.

The film's pervasive muddiness only makes things worse. "An ongoing personal problem that might force her to be fired from the company" -- you probably thought I was just being coy, or repeating the film's delicate euphemism for "She's gone down with so many sailors that everyone calls her 'Titanic.'" Nope. I quite honestly had no idea what her problem was. At first I thought that it was the fact that she was a widowed mother, but that didn't match up with a later scene. Then I guessed that maybe she was a drinker, based on the fact that she's seen drinking a glass of sherry in her dressing room...oy.

Ultimately I have to just throw up my hands and simply conclude that the mountain of historical research, facts and trivia that the actors and filmmakers mastered while developing the characters and story (as we're reminded by the press for this film) became so familiar to them that they forgot something rather vital: that none of it would be familiar to us unless they go ahead and tell us.

Much of "Topsy-Turvy"'s topsy-turviness does sort itself out with repeated viewings. Here I am at Viewing #5, and now the bits that make sense seem far more prominent than the bits that the filmmakers seemingly pulled out of their dark and humid regions.

Maybe it's a little harsh to dismiss the film by saying that it comes across like a lavishly-produced 12-hour BBC dramatic series hastily edited down into a 160-minute tape to be hawked during PBS pledge drives. But it's also too charitable to call it a terribly good movie. I loved this film from my third viewing onward, but the first screening left me dazed and hearing little birdies in my head.

Well, it does have undeniable charm, though, and top-notch production and performances. That'll be enough to carry you through the first two or three viewings, at least.

Copyright ©2001 Andy Ihnatko. May not be redistributed without permission. Studio PR types wishing to send Andy tapes, promotional clothing, or high-end video gear in hopes of securing a positive review are advised that such efforts are futile, but they're free to try to determine how high Andy's price actually is. Mail any and all pelft to Box 279, Norwood, MA 02062. He already has a subwoofer for his home-theater but could probably use a good pair of casual slacks.