Lust for Life

Dir: Vincente Minnelli

1956

****

One of my favourite chapters of Kirk Douglas’s memoir The Ragman’s Son is the one where he talks about his experiences of working on Vincente Minnelli’s 1956 Lust For Life, a biopic of the famous Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh. A few pages in, Douglas remembers that John Wayne attended a screening of the film and was horrified at what he saw. "Christ, Kirk! How can you play a part like that? There's so few of us left. We got to play strong, tough characters. Not those weak queers,". Douglas tried to explain, "It's all make-believe, John. It isn't real. You're not really John Wayne, you know." Wayne, born Marion Morrison, looked at him oddly, as if Douglas had betrayed him. I wouldn’t say Lust For Life was Douglas’s best film or even his greatest performance but I would argue that it was the most unique and passionate performance of his career. There is certainly nothing wrong with Minnelli’s direction but this is Douglas’s film and he carries it on his shoulders. The story begins with Vincent as a young man, training to be a minister like his father before him. However, the church authorities find him unsuitable. He pleads with them to be allowed some position and they place him in a very poor mining community. Here he becomes deeply absorbed in the daily poverty and begins sketching daily life. The apostate religious leaders do not like his approach, and they frown on his social activism and care for the poor, scolding him for living like the people he was there to help, when ministers were to be seen as living comfortably. Immediately we understand Vincent and the maddening times he lived in. He returns home to his father's house. He falls in love with his cousin but she rejects him because of his inability to support himself financially. The infatuated Vincent follows her to her family home, where he holds his hand over a candle flame to prove his devotion, only to learn that she has said she is disgusted by him and doesn't want to see him again. A friend gives him paint and artist materials and encourages him to paint, and he heads to Paris. Here he takes up with a prostitute who eventually also leaves because he is too poor. His passion then turns fully to painting, which he pursues while agonizing that his vision exceeds his ability to execute. His brother, Theo van Gogh (played by James Donald), provides financial and moral support. Paul Gauguin (played by Anthony Quinn), whom he met in Paris, joins him in Arles and for a while life is good, but Vincent becomes too obsessive even for Gauguin's tastes and they argue, after which Vincent famously cuts off his own ear. Vincent begins experiencing hallucinations and seizures and voluntarily commits himself to a mental institution. He signs himself out, and with Theo's help returns to a rural area to resume painting. Out painting cornfields he is frustrated by the crows and ultimately shoots himself in despair of never being able to put what he sees on canvas. As a result, he dies a few days after shooting himself. To prepare for his role as the troubled painter, Douglas practiced painting crows so that he could reasonably imitate van Gogh at work. According to his then wife Anne Buydens, Douglas was so into character that he returned to home in character. When asked if he would do such a thing again, Douglas responded that he wouldn't. However, his role was so great and he was so focused on performance, he and Stanley Kubrick kept the momentum and made two of the greatest films of all time soon after (Paths of Glory and Spartacus). It amazes me that John Wayne still had a career up until his death in the late 70s as he never once changed his persona, while Douglas on the other hand developed his craft and pushed the boundaries as far as he could. He is still seen as a classical Hollywood actor, which he is, but they forget how dynamic and ahead of the game his performances often were. Both Anthony Quinn and James Donald are great actors but their performances were ten years behind Douglas’s. The film was shot on location in France, Belgium and the Netherlands and many of the set buildings are still there, indeed, I’ve sat opposite the little yellow house in France many a time (originally believing it was the original and not the film prop). Two hundred enlarged colour photos were used representing Vincent’s completed canvases; these were in addition to copies that were executed by an American art teacher, Robert Parker. Although it may look a bit muted in colour nowadays, the technique is still remarkable to today’s standards. I will admit that the presentation of the aesthetic controversy between Van Gogh (humane and intuitive) and Gaugin (intellectual and brusquely cynical) is both over simplified and somewhat misleading but Douglas’s performance is the greatest exploration of neuroticism captured on film at the very least. Plus, the film stars the great Lionel Jeffries in a minor role, and when all is said and done and when no one can truly say whether or not this was a true representation of a troubled artist, an appearance from Lionel Jeffries, no matter how small, instantly makes a film magical. In all seriousness though, it’s a great film, way ahead of its time with one of the most intense performances of all time.