FILM HUGGER - O LUCKY MAN! (1973)

Lindsay Anderson's brilliant Mick Travis trilogy of films (IF...., O LUCKY MAN! , BRITANNIA HOSPITAL) are truly some of the most underrated, unknown, and unappreciated films in existence. While I genuinely love all three movies unconditionally, it is the 2nd part of the trilogy that I always felt was one of the greatest unsung pieces of cinema ever produced. Whereas IF...(1968) took shots at the British education system and BRITANNIA HOSPITAL (1982) set its sights on the British National Health Service, O LUCKY MAN! took aim at a much broader, more universal concept: Capitalism.

Alternate Promotional Poster from 1973

Whenever I enthusiastically inform people that O LUCKY MAN! is a satirical 3 hour long British fantasy/musical/comedy about capitalism, most quietly nod their head while attempting to locate the nearest exit.  A three hour movie is always a daunting task, yet this is one of those rare films that somehow manages to bypass all the trappings of such a length by simply being what a good film is supposed to be: ENTERTAINING. The film manages to sustain itself not only from the incredibly humorous and unpretentious performances, but also because the film is specifically made to be very episodic, so just whenever you think it's getting boring, something is thrown into the mix that takes it into a completely different direction.  Just like real life, you never know where you are going to end up and you realize quickly that you only have so much control over the things that determine the path that you're going to travel. In the case of this movie, where we move from a boring coffee factory to a secret military base before ending up in a bizarre scientific laboratory, it becomes inevitably obvious that it is all about the journey and not the destination anyway.  

Don't worry, there are still plenty of strong selling point for those who are still weary: First off, you get  Malcolm McDowell in his prime, two years after A CLOCKWORK ORANGE had rocketed him to stardom, rambling along throughout the drab urban sprawl of the early 70s UK, hellbent on making something out of himself. This film showcases his incredible (if understated) comedic range, which is sadly never used to full effect in almost any of his other theatrical endeavors.  You also get a brilliant, hilarious, and surreal script about what initially sounds like a boring premise (the ups and downs of capitalism), as well as Alan Price's phenomenal soundtrack. To top it all off, you even get the lusciously amazing Helen Mirren traipsing around way before her Dame days, foiling the young and naive Mick Travis at every possible junction. What's not to love? 

  

Malcolm McDowell and Helen Mirren, sharing a moment.

The greatest thing about this movie is that it is completely self aware of itself, as evidenced by its brilliant final scene, which ties together the entire movie with a single life-changing slap by none other than the director of the film himself. This sort of postmodern self-referential shenanigans is nearly impossible to pull off unpretentiously, yet the movie does so flawlessly. Cases in point with less stellar results include the awful ending of Spike Lee's more or less decent MALCOLM X or the long-winded and self-important final shot in Spielberg's SCHINDLER'S LIST.  Luckily, Lindsay Anderson's movies manage to produce valid and humorous social commentary without a single hint of any preachy political agendas. The film's cynical yet goofy take on working in Britain during those apparently lackluster yet tumultuous years that followed the decline of the British Empire are endlessly funny and downright epic in their Quixotic scope. By the time it is all over, you'll find the whole affair to be uplifting in the most subversive ways possible, thanks in no small part to an endlessly inventive script, a great assortment of fantastic British character actors, and Alan Price's awe-inspiring  title track for the film, which is simply stupendous. In my humble opinion, O LUCKY MAN! will eventually be remembered as one of the greatest example of British cinema not only in the 1970s, but of all time. 

 

The title track and opening credits (featuring a cameo by director Lindsay Anderson) 

You can purchase the movie by clicking on this link through Amazon.