A sometimes surreal and unabashed stage-like adaptation of Kit Marlowe's classic play. The trappings that surround the titular character are great, even though they're clearly fake, and the coloured lighting is unusual.
The demon Mephistopheles is a memorable character. But Burton's Faustus not so much; his delivery is often flat and overly-rehearsed.
Liz appears in various silly guises any time a woman to be desired is needed, but she speaketh not and her inclusion makes the whole thing feel more like a weird commentary on the couple's turbulent private life than it does a struggle of conscience for the soul of the tragic doctor. To be frank, it's a train wreck at times, or, considering the era and pace, a horse drawn cart wreck.
2 professed depths out of 5
1 comment:
damn. of course there's no movie titled Docrate.
Should I consider myself lucky ?
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