#29: "The Servant" (1963) (dir. Joseph Losey)

I read a take on The Servant that called this too stagy and lifeless to where I couldn’t believe we had watched the same film. Yes, there are only four main characters and there’s a lot of dialogue but this is one of the most stunning looking movies I’ve ever seen, simply just looking at it - the opposite of lifeless. There is so much thought, care, consideration into every gesture, every framing choice, every mirror, the way characters are blocked. There is rarely a static shot.

I needed to get that out of the way due to some thoughts I’ve been having. So many people can say a film like Vertigo is one of the greatest ever made, but there will always be detractors and naysayers and for whatever reason, it simply won’t engage the viewer in the same way it does for others. It made me think about the purposes of my writing in some weird way. Praising a film, criticism, even just the act of sitting down to express feelings about a 2 hour experience started to seem like spinning wheels. Watching them go round and round.

Once you start to realize the number of Twitter accounts, RT-approved critics, Letterboxd users, the only way you escape opinions and ideas if you shut down and closed your accounts. But then a complete sense of disconnection could occur (or maybe you could re-frame that feeling as freedom). I seem to have a complicated relationship with even just putting it all “out there” lately. There is this idea of “well, my thoughts are worth sharing so let’s do this.” Accompanied by, “my thoughts could also just be my own or shared in person.” Probably because I see how people do it via social media and it’s troubling as of late. Yet of course here I am and you will find a subscribe button at the bottom of this page.

I say all of this in correlation to what the characters experience in The Servant. They have personal expectations of what their roles should be in life. What happens when they’re upended or challenged or completely manipulated to the point of identity crisis? Being a film critic, there is a need to put that on a resume, but criticism is also constructing sentences that you hope will make sense. The art of filtering ideas into something coherent and worthy of someone’s time. In some twisted way, both of our main male characters in The Servant want to worthy of each other’s time. They are willing to create chaos in hopes of connection. In the end, all they’re left with are the hierarchies they are slaves to. Sometimes we have to look into a mirror and not like what we see staring back.

The disintegration of power dynamics always make for compelling cinema. There is no denying the fact that Paul Thomas Anderson has practically built a career around the idea of merging a dyad to where they realize they have way more in common than they realized. With that process, comes violence, anger and eventual empathy. In The Servant, it’s clear that there is a game taking place in which the title character (Barrett) is seeking control over his master (Tony). We actually don’t know if it’s for a specific purpose or if Barrett is just a sociopath that wants to fuck shit up for the fun of it (and because he can).

Not having a reason is what gives this movie its own power. We seek out meaning and reason in life because we actually don’t know why we’re all here in the first place. A lot of art should have a reason for existing or it could just be the creators found themselves in the right place at the right time and all the pieces came together to tell a story. The Servant is a story about how we are destined to fail. We may think privilege, financial stability and a home will keep us safe, but we’re also human - we are selfish creatures willing to hurt other people even when we can sense the damage being done.

In this film, Hugo Barrett (superbly acted by Dirk Bogarde) is employed as a manservant by the wealthy Tony (James Fox). Both appear to be happy in their respected roles as master and servant until Tony introduces Barrett to his girlfriend Susan (Wendy Craig). Susan, for some unexplained reason, is disgusted by Barrett and attempts to have Tony kick him out of the house. Maybe she senses he’s practically a con man. The plot thickens when Barrett brings home his “sister” Vera (Sarah Miles) as a maid. Soon Vera ensnares Tony and eventually it’s revealed that Vera’s actually Barrett’s lover. Eventually, Vera and Barrett plot to reverse roles with Tony and Susan (perhaps Vera’s awkward seduction of Tony was all part of the plan). Tony slowly falls into despair as he experiences a deepening co-dependence not mention becoming a slave to alcohol and wealth.

I can’t help but think of the first time we see Barrett and Tony together. Tony had too much beers at lunch and is napping. Barrett is seen in the doorway, tall, confident, hovering. It’s as if this shot is summing up the entire film in a way. Barrett will eventually be towering over his master and perhaps that’s been his plan the whole time. Tony merely just wants to drink, sleep and not worry about anything since he comes from being wealthy. In a way, they both get what they want even if our sympathies and allegiances change throughout. Maybe there’s a more macro-level take on the way the British live but I view this as universal.

As relentlessly manipulative and menacing as his presence is, Dirk Bogarde provides Barrett with an unblemished, charismatic exterior – as alluring as it is haunting. He should’ve won every award possible for being convincingly submissive then flipping the switch entirely later on. Fox and Bogarde bounce sharp dialogue back and forth and are captivating as the psychosexual tension increases between them. Though it’s clear they are more drawn towards women, there is a sense of attraction to where they begin to mirror a bickering married couple. Through subtle visual clues Losey artfully blurs sexual boundaries to create a memorable relationship that may or may not be honest. Is Barrett secretly interested in Tony and vice versa or is it all just a mind game between men?

Each scene contains layers and stunning directorial choices. Of course Pinter is an all-time great playwright and writer, but Losey’s work here deserves to be commended. The choice to have the faucet dripping at one moment or the use of mirrors and shadows throughout. I can’t get over how beautiful this movie looks throughout - from snow falling, to the claustrophobic interiors, to the use of staircases as a way to represent class and dominance. There are also such subtle sensual scenes of erotic magnetism that feel like something like out of Tennessee Williams. Vera seduces Tony one night when Barrett is away. But then one day Tony and Susan come home to the flat and find Vera and Barrett in bed together. The confrontation that ensues is so perfectly done, one expects that to be the end of the story right there. And then it all takes a sharp left turn into nightmare territory as relationships change and power dynamics are reversed.

At first look, one could easily think of this film as “the master needs the servant more than the servant needs a master,” but that’s almost dismissive and reductive. There’s a sense of amorality persistent throughout this film, both in the characters depicted and their various actions that drive the plot. The film doesn’t consist of a narrative in the traditional sense, insofar as there is a general storyline that flows through the film, but it rather functions as a series of moments that slowly grow in hostility and tension, until reaching a breaking point. The relationship between Barrett and Tony has been inverted. The final act is almost surreal and shocking in ways that recall something like Frankenheimer’s Seconds, in which all bets are off. No one wins.

This is less about the ignorant upper-class and the way they treat view the lower-class. Certainly there are moments that capture that trope particularly when Susan berates and downright abuses Barrett. By that point though, we know Barrett is going to get the upper hand eventually to where suddenly, maybe we shouldn’t side with him after all. (A scene at a phone booth hints at that early on). Losey and Pinter go to intoxicating lengths to deconstruct the complicated fabric of social order, creating a portrait of humanity on fire through the lens of the interactions between individuals in a context that is recognizable but scary. There’s no question that a film like Bong Joon-Ho’s Parasite was shaped by stories like these and in some way, The Servant is one of the ultimate sociolocial horror films of what dominance and power does to the individual. It doesn’t matter if it’s the master or the slave - they are both flawed, corrupted humans that become engrossed by their own agendas to conquer.

So in a way, this movie could be a representation of the American mindset. We came to this country on a power trip to conquer and dominate, not share. We also turned to slavery out of some selfish need to treat others as “less than.” Yet at the same time, The Servant here is also lost in seeking control even if it means using a beautiful woman as a catalyst to create chaos. People do things like this all of the time and I’m certain that it isn’t restrict to American behaviorism. But we do often view people through a lens of class, income and personal behavior. Mr. Belvedere this is not. Everything will not work out in the end for these people.

I kept thinking of this idea of me putting my words and reviews on a pedestal in a way - what I have to say or write is worthy of your time and efforts here. But I also think it’s a foolish confidence to exhibit. Really, even if you haven’t studied movies as an art form, what you have to say has value, meaning and deserves to be accepted as your own interpretation. I want to believe that writing or podcasting or recording can have some lasting impact but I can’t think of it as exceptional or important. There should be equality in nearly everything we experience in life. But I also know that’s idealism - it’s simply not possible. Horrible takes on anything (including how people live) will always exist.

The Servant is almost an affirmation that human beings are fundamentally flawed. They will succumb to weakness, they will hurt those they love and if they see opportunities to make someone feel “less than,” they might in fact embrace that. It happens every day in different ways and this movie is practically telling us in the end that there is a Barrett and a Tony in each and every one of us. There is the confident, controlling presence among the vulnerable and timid. As much insecurity I have as a writer, I’m still posting this and putting it out in to the world. We are often walking contradictions, capable of being selfless and selfish. Joseph Losey and Harold Pinter’s The Servant might be one of the better portrayals of what it means to be alive within a society that likely doesn’t care if you’re hurt, homeless or broke. If you’re naive or easily manipulated, then you’re bound to fall victim to someone’s diabolical scheme. I am me, you are you and I certainly wish on a daily basis we could be compassionate regardless. Sometimes, as this third act reveals, there is no turning back from self-destruction and you may very well be stuck inside of a death drive… permanently.