Movie Review: "Quartet"

"Quartet": A-.  When we last saw Maggie Smith she was Muriel Donnelly, a bigoted hypochondriac in Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (reviewed here on May 31, 2012). One year later Smith plays another contrarian, Jean Horton, in Quartet. Jean was a diva songstress in her day, but her day was thirty years ago or more. Sad to say, she hasn't outgrown that nasty aura. Just as Muriel's personal circumstances steered her to take up residence in a strange place, Jean is faced with the same challenge, although instead of a run down hotel in a bustling Indian city it is Beecham House, a stately mansion for retired singers and musicians in rural England.

The fact that Jean is well past her prime does not stop her from displaying her diva-tude. She corrects people who short-change her on the number of curtain calls she received following a long-ago performance, she insists on taking her meals in her private room rather than with the other Beecham residents in the dining room, she mistakenly assumes that the residence director is a servant, and a smile only crosses her face when she is the center of attention. What she was not counting on is that her former husband, Reggie Paget (Tom Courtenay), is a Beecham resident too, and he has not buried the hatchet for Jean abandoning their extremely brief marriage years ago.

As you might expect from this movie's title, there are two other characters who figure prominently in the story, and they are the ones who supply a good chunk of the movie's humor. Wilf Bond (the dashing Billy Connolly) is the "naughty boy" who is always on the make, ready with a double entendre here or a slightly off-color remark there. The females who live and work at Beecham are on to him, but he is so lovable -- and probably harmless, given his age -- that they put up with his shenanigans. Director Dustin Hoffman keeps things snappy, not dwelling too long on any one shot or scene. This enhances Wilf's quips, as he often says them while on the move. Also, Pauline Collins turns in a stellar performance as Cissy Robson, who teeters on the edge of senility. When Cissy talks she comes across as loopy, yet just when we think she is dull she surprises with profound observations. The once-famous and titular "Quartet" is comprised of Reggie, Wilf, Cissy and Jean.

The central story line, other than the history between Jean and Reggie, is that Beecham House is in financial straights, and their sustainability depends on their annual gala recital being a smashing monetary success. It is up to the music director and fellow resident, Cedrick Livingston (Michael Gambon), to transform the multitude of talent at hand into a five star production. Gambon is over-the-top funny, putting down unworthy musical renditions and insisting that his name be pronounced "SEE-drick," not "Sed-drick." Cissy meekly obeys even Cedrick's most humiliating demands, such as requiring her to raise her hand and be called upon before speaking, but Wilf simply blows him off. He won't even give Cedrick the satisfaction of pronouncing his name correctly. The difference between the recital being an overwhelming success or a failure hinges on the potential reunion of the Quartet so that they can perform a selection from Verdi's Rigoletto, the opera which was the Quartet's signature piece. Will Cederick be able to convince each of the fab four to perform together one last time to save Beecham House? Or, will their egos, interpersonal baggage and fear of failure get in the way?

In a brilliant casting move by the producers, the roles of the peripheral residents of Beecham House are filled by real life singers, musicians and conductors. This includes Gambon, an accomplished actor in British theater, and Gwyneth Jones, a Welsh opera singer who plays Jean's arch rival, Anne Langley. The upshot of this casting is that the musical interludes we witness from time to time are first class. Even the rehearsals are stage-worthy.

If you are inclined to skip Quartet because (i) spending two hours watching old geezers is not your cup of tea, or (ii) you're afraid you'll be subjected to too much classical music, rest assured that your worries will be for naught. The old folks are (mostly) genuinely funny and young at heart, and (as noted above) Hoffman's quick pace averts the danger of having the high brow music bog things down.