So, where were we? Last century, John Hurt dramatised the extraordinary person of QC in The Naked Civil Servant; and last night he returned as QC in An Englishman in New York (ITV). Wrong title. It should have been "A Resident Alien in New York", but sadly Sting didn't whinny out those words. Hurt once again gave us a perfect impersonation of a garish, walking-talking refrigerator with a good line in pre-emptive strikes. Crisp's whole act was a self-contained riposte, not a reproach, but an absolute alternative to straightdom, made shiny and hard by aphorism. As QC himself might have said, if you repeat a line long enough, soon enough you'll be quoted.
At around the age of 73, now famous thanks largely to Hurt, Crisp allowed his heart to melt a little - for New York. The feeling was mutual. His uniqueness qualified him for resident alienship and so his fabled dust was permitted to accumulate in another grotty apartment. New York queerdom turned hostile when he described Aids as a passing fad. Slowly he was forgiven: but some damage was done: the Muscle Mary clones viewed him as a redundant old 80s queen: they demanded conformism from him just as they demanded empathy for nature's unconformism.
Perhaps Crisp was a stubborn old queen. But no one was going to tell this maquillaged frost box what to say or do. That's the thing about icons. They're petrified - as in hardened in our and their minds. Or husk acts. And this husk act wasn't about to admit he was wrong. He did however help an artist who was HIV+ find the deviant dollar. The heart did beat, by implication. A purple passage could be got through with a wordless lift of purple eye shadow.
Crisp had the paradoxical effect of taking the exotic out of queerdom by virtue of his singularity. No one, queer or not, was quite like Quent. In New York he soon encountered the dull, cat-loving queer straights who read the Sunday Supps over cappuccino, gazing on him as if he were a zombified early model consigned to history's dustbin.
Unlike them, he was much much wiser and funnier. And persistence was his watchword. And his person gave Hurt his masterpiece.
19 comments:
Fab fab fab!
Quentin was a one-note samba
Nice line. Now say it as Crisp would have said it.
As a devoted Crisp fan I could not wait for "An Englishman in New York". Sadly, I think it turned out to be one of the most disappointing items on the box this season, and that is saying something.
The scriptwriter and John Hurt made Crisp out to be someone who spoke in soundbites. Crisp was more adept than that!
Also, his position on AIDS was much more nuanced, and its portrayal in the ITV film actually sickened me - that is when I turned over and went to sleep.
As with many of the world's true characters, of which Quentin Crisp is definitely one, they are better left as is, and not sullied with attempts to popularise them.
But Madame Arcati, I must take you to task on one point. Quentin Crisp was regularly in the media, Hurt did not make him famous.
Dear Thomas, you must remember that a 90 minute drama can only offer fragments: I think his Aids message was nuanced in the show to the extent that he thought not even disease should compromise the art of being oneself. I think you watched the show with a show already running in your head. I am prescribing you a Tramadol and ordering you to rewatch it.
Yes, it's true that Crisp was all over the place but for most people The Naked Civil Servant was their introduction. Crisp was highly adept at popularising himself, of course. He just had to walk down a street.
The late Olga Deterding threw a party for him after his one man show in London at at her Green Park apartment which was littered with fake sheep.
Olga Deterding - that rings a bell. Didn't she choke to death on something and fancy Alan Whicker? Odd sort of person to fancy, like rubbing up against an ironing table.
This is not so much a review as a response and one that goes off at a tangent, as you did with Jonathan King's memoirs. You're a bit like Crisp yourself, living in a world of your own.
For a plain review, complete with adjectives to describe Hurt's mimicry and whether the eyebrow arc was quite at the correct degree, see the newspapers. The Guardian's review, for example, is perfectly functional, and is a hymn to note-taking.
Ma Chére Madame, I believe your opening line, "you must remember that a 90 minute drama can only offer fragments", cuts to the quick of each point I made. Just because someone's character can be portrayed in 90 minutes, it does not follow that it should be.
Is this what our culture is to become content with - fragments? How sad, very sad. You would not send someone yearning to learn about Operas, for example, to a performance that was made up of disjointed fragments. Why should we do this to such wonderful and colourful characters.
I would then argue if this is the version of Quentin Crisp John Hurt et al are peddling, it is not the real Quentin Crisp they are making famous at all. In any event, I can not disagree with you more, John Hurt did not make Quentin Crisp famous. I was always very pleasantly surprised at how well 'known' Quentin Crips was. I might not have always been so enamoured with the details of those thoughts, but I do not believe John Hurt can take any credit for the claim you make. In fact I believe the view of Crisp we have from John Hurt is a much more santized version. So, if you are correct, it is a more socially acceptable Quentin Crisp who is now famous thanks to John Hurt.
While I can not, and do not claim to, speak for him I think the very spirit of Quentin Crisp is shuddering in so many ways. Perhaps I do have another version of Crisp running in my head. But its not a more socially acceptable one - that I can assure you.
And as pleasantly as you may try, you wont drug me into submission ;-)
Thomasx
A perfectly wonderful review of a film I've yet to see. I think though Quentin was very well noticed before Hurt's portrayal of him but not 'famous'. In fact Civil Servant really shows that he was noticed often enough to get a beating.
When the first film was shown, it took me about 30 minutes into it to realise I had actually seen him often in the street and was absolutely fascinated by him mainly because his purple rinse was similar to my mum's.
Yes Olga choked on a piece of meat at one of her parties.I'm sure Quentin would have agreed carking it at one's own soiree was terribly chic.
Oh fucking bullshit as usual. You got it to a TEE MA Darling. I REALLY hope you lose some of these l-o-s-e-r-s in the New Year. Let them go en masse to Popbitch or Channel 5 or somewhere blancmange and anodyne. Must say I do rather imagine you are quite Crispy...
Dear Thomas, I do hope Quentin's spirit is shuddering at Hurt's portrayal: he liked The Naked Civil Servant, at least. But how can any drama be a facsimile of its human subject? The two dramas are interpretations that require imposed themes: the first was Crisp's stuggle with the London straights, the second with the NY queers. In actuality no such distinction could be easily made - yet dramatically the two offer a unity best viewed as a vaguely not inaccurate summing up. No life is that clean cut of course.
Lyrically succinct, Madame. As good an approximation of Crisp as I've ever read.
a wonderfully review and colourfully discussed, with equally colourful responses, how apt for such a colourful character always appearing to courting some reaction and delighting in the response. I enjoyed both versions (the first Naked civil servsnt) and this although he was portrayed as being out of touch with the cruel and harsh reality of AIDS. in his display of arrogance and rebuttal. This may have well been the case as in his 'day' awareness would not have been known never mind raised, although according to how I read the play it was somewhat remedied in his interest in the artist and his work. Where authenticity which is what he championed was displayed. Flamboyant, colourful, controversial but always his own true character to the end x Lib aka libithina (twitter line)
Thank you Libithina, you're a poppet. xx
I'm pretty sure I danced to Klavinik II in a disco in Turkey in 1989.
Well I thought it was a brilliant, funny and accurate review of the show (which I loved)... I loved it because it, too, was not obvious.
Thank you JK, Happy New Year!
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