Following the recent death of the revolutionary and iconoclastic
film director Ken Russell, film fans will once again have the
rtunity of viewing one of his career defining movies with the
release of Tommy in 2012. If you've ever wanted to hear Jack
Nicholson sing (or try to) or marvel at the of Ann-Margret
drunkenly cavorting in a cascade of baked beans, Tommy is the
movie you've been waiting for. As it turns out, the Who's
brilliant rock opera is sublimely matched to director Ken
Russell's penchant for cinematic excess, and this 1975 production
finds Russell at the peak of his filmmaking audacity. It's a
fever-dream of musical bombast, custom-fit to the thematic
ambition of Pete Townshend's epic rock drama, revolving around
the titular deaf, dumb, and blind kid; (played by Who vocalist
Roger Daltrey) who survives the childhood trauma that stole his
senses to become a Pinball Wizard messiah in Townshend's
grandiose attack on the hypocrisy of organised religion. The
story is remarkably coherent considering the hypnotic dream-state
induced by Russell's visuals. Tommy's odyssey is rendered through
wall-to-wall music, each song representing a pivotal chapter in
Tommy's chronology, from the bloodstream shock of The Queen;
(performed to the hilt by Tina Turner) to Nicholson's turn as a
well-intentioned physician, Elton John's towering rendition of
Pinball Wizard; and Daltrey's epiphanous rendition of I'm Free.
Other performers include Eric Clapton and (most outrageously) the
Who's drummer Keith Moon, and through it all Russell is almost
religiously faithful to Townshend's artistic vision. Although it
divided critics when first released, Tommy now looks likes a
minor classic of gonzo cinema, worthy of the musical genius that
fuelled its creation. .co.uk Review: Even by the standards of a
genre not characterised by restraint, the 1974 rock opera Tommy
is endearingly barmy, a bizarre combination of Pete Townshend's
disturbed inspiration and director Ken Russell's wildly eccentric
vision. Even if you gamely try and read allegorical meaning into
it, the story is frankly odd: a child becomes psychosomatically
deaf, dumb and blind after witnessing the murder of his her by
his stepdad and goes on to become rich and famous as the world
pinball champion (since when was pinball a world-class competitor
sport?), before setting himself up as a latter-day messiah. It's
about the travails of the post-war generation, the disaffection
of youth, the trauma of childhood abuse, the sham nature of
new-age cults, and many other things besides. At least, that's
what Townshend and Russell would have you believe. But what's
really important is the many wonderful, utterly bonkers
set-pieces--effectively a string of pop videos--that occur along
the way, performed by great guest stars: Tina Turner as the
Queen, Eric Clapton as the Preacher, Keith Moon as Uncle Ernie,
Elton John's mighty rendition of `Pinball Wizard`, even Jack
Nicholson doing a turn as a suave spet. Roger Daltrey is
iconic in his signature role, and Oliver Reed makes up for a
complete inability to sing with a bravura performance as his
sleazy stepdad, but best of all is Ann-Margret as Tommy's mother
Nora: her charismatic presence holds the loose narrative together
and she richly deserved her Academy Award nomination; the
of her in a nylon cat suit being drenched in baked beans and
chocolate from an exploding TV set is worth the price of the DVD
alone. Extra features include: Audio Commentary with Ken Russell
and Mark Kermode, Ken Russell on Tommy, Pete Townshend Interview,
Roger Daltrey Interview, Ann-Margret Spills the Beans, The Story
of the Sound and the Theatrical Trailer.