More Fuller than Sirk, but it's an intoxicating mix.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
I've had a long held fascination with beats. I've never actually participated in their indiscriminate open air loving (not knowingly anyway) but I've spent hours watching from the sidelines. It helps that I live directly across from one, at least I did until the police locked it up. But even if I didn't, these public places where "men who have sex with men" have sex with "men who have sex with men" are pretty common. Therein lies the fascination.
The British, they just don't seem to make films like this anymore. These manicured, composed, intricate films used to be the backbone of the British film industry (Peter Greenaway, anyone?) and now they are sorely missed, by me anyway.
I love the esoteric quality of Potter's adaptation. I love its symmetry. I love its archness.
Shelmerdine: You are hurt, ma'am?
Orlando: I am dead, sir.
Shelmerdine: Dead? That is serious, can I help?
Orlando: Will you marry me?