Prick Up Your Ears begins with a murder, and ends in a suicide – and for the two hours in between, we’re presented with a wildly complex character study that traverses many different ideas, such as identity and sexuality, the importance of art, and the cultural perceptions of certain issues that tend to carry immense weight when someone occurs on the wrong side of it. Stephen Frears is a director whose work looks into different genres, with this film being amongst his finest achievements, and one of the few times his style has actually taken on a voice of its own. Working from a screenplay written by the iconoclastic playwright and dramatist Alan Bennett, who was in turn adapting a biography by John Lahr, the film tells the story of Joe Orton and his lover Kenneth Halliwell, both of them writers in the early 1960s, who managed to achieve different degrees of fame and acclaim, to the point where it became a battle for dominance, resulting in a grisly end for both men. Prick Up Your Ears is an emotionally devastating work of biographical filmmaking, leaving a fiercely uncompromising impression on the viewer, taking us through a tragic story that is presented with sincerity and honesty, but actively avoids becoming too overwrought with inauthentic emotions – it pays tribute to the life of a fascinating artistic figure, navigating the trials and tribulations of the last few years of his life, as well as that of his romantic partner, forming a complex portrait of deeply human angst that is almost insatiable in tender fury, both towards the specific subject it is covering, and the broader socio-cultural implications that it carries. A work of intentionally unwavering discomfort, with blemishes of hope scattered throughout, Prick Up Your Ears is an exceptional work, one that takes some adjusting to, but ultimately becomes a rewarding experience that is as deeply unsettling as it is profoundly beautiful, looking at life through the lens of passion, desire and a lust for greatness.

Calling Prick Up Your Ears ahead of its time seems somewhat fitting, but doesn’t quite encapsulate everything that is remarkable about this film, which is arguably a very simple achievement in form, albeit one that tackles some very challenging themes in terms of how it looks at its subjects. Nearly all of its merits coming in how straightforward and earnest it is, being sincerely aligned with many of the other more unyielding artistic biopics produced during this period, in which complex subjects were explored in a manner that deviated from expectation and placed emphasis not only on the objective facts, but also on the more intangible aspects, looking into the human side of these stories and finding value in the . When describing the life and work of Joe Orton, nearly every work somehow makes reference to its shortness – he existed in the artistic zeitgeist for such a brief moment, but yet made such an impression in his brief flirtation with fame. However, while his career is fascinating, it has undoubtedly been eclipsed by the way it ended, with his murder at the hands of his own lover being seen in a number of ways, ranging from a great artistic tragedy etched into the culture of the period, to the fodder of contemporary true crime enthusiasts (particularly amongst those with the morbid fascination with crimes of passion), with many different meanings extracted from the horrifying event. Prick Up Your Ears is a work that doesn’t yield to expectations by focusing on one or the other – instead, Frears and Bennett put together a film that borrows generously from both sides of the story, which it forms into a poignant drama that straddles multiple genres, finding merit in adopting certain qualities of romantic drama and bleak social thriller, culminating in a film that may start by giving away the ending, but where such an approach is incredibly effective, if not thoroughly essential, since it gives the viewer the chance to decode this story, searching through the succeeding two hours for clues towards the reasons behind the conclusion – it is a rich, poignant experience that is only made even more powerful by the decisions made by Frears and his collaborators in bringing this story to life. We know how it ended, so the interesting part comes in figuring out all the components of the haunting journey to the heartwrenching destination.

Prick Up Your Ears employs a very peculiar kind of narrative structure, one that may stray from the sensationalist aspects that tend to plague this kind of story, while not dismissing some of the more unique characteristics that come from telling of the life of a true artistic eccentric. The film is quite reminiscent of The Naked Civil Servant, a biographical drama focused on the equally-fascinating Quentin Crisp, particularly in how it navigated the experience of being a homosexual in a time when it was a criminal offence in the United Kingdom. Considering Orton was quite a unique individual with his own idiosyncratic charms, it makes sense that Prick Up Your Ears would make use of some kind of gentle comedy throughout, employing it in small but meaningful bursts that create a sense of humour that drives the film forward and give it character, without making it an outright comedy, but instead taking on the witty, acidic exuberance that Orton would’ve probably liked his story to be told with – after all, he was known for his pitch-black comedies, and got odd delight from shocking audiences. Bennett in well-suited to the material, as not only did he start his own theatrical career around the same time as Orton (although in slightly more palatable fare), but his work often bears traits of more subversive glimpses into the human condition, where wry humour is contrasted with serious matters to create compelling drama – and as we see in the film, its tendency to be darkly comical at times makes it even more harrowing when we are subjected to the less-endearing ramifications. Bennett composes a script that is very entertaining and exceptionally well-written but also doesn’t ever lose itself in its unique narrative style, carrying a stark realism that alerts us to the underlying angst that pulsates throughout the film. It may often be extremely gritty, but finds an abstract lyricism that ties everything together and makes it so compelling.

What is often most notable about Prick Up Your Ears is how this is a film that occurs relatively early in the careers of Gary Oldman and Alfred Molina, who were still quite young professional actors at this point, but who had gradually started to make a name for themselves, and would go on to become two of the most beloved performers in the industry. Their work here is quite terrific – they’re almost symbiotic in how they play off each other. Oldman was at his peak here, playing an eccentric young playwright who endorses the idea of living as fast as possibly one can – youth is fleeting, and life is to experience in all its glory. However, there is a despair lurking beneath the surface that makes his performance so much more than just a cocksure young artist who is working laboriously to making himself known as one of the essential voices of his generation. Molina, on the other hand, is the more impressive of the duo, not only because his performance leaves the most remarkable impression, but also due to the fact that he plays the more interesting character. Joe Orton is a great part, but its Kenneth Haliwell the one that commands the screen, with Molina bringing such a brooding intensity to the part. It’s challenging to make such a despicable character seem nuanced, and while we may not be coerced into feeling sympathy for Kenneth, the film does very well in refusing to revile him as a one-dimensional villain. Orton may be the central character, but its Haliwell who we are most invested in – while his partner is self-assured and confident, Kenneth is a broken man yearning for an iota of the adoration the man who he essentially helped build up takes all the recognition. Both actors are truly magnificent in the parts, and bring the most important quality to a story like this: unflinching humanity. Any discussion on Prick Up Your Ears wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the legendary Vanessa Redgrave, who has a relatively smaller role as Orton’s agent, but who steals every scene she’s in, and bring such depth to a role that could’ve easily faded into the background. A wry smile, a witty retort or a brief glimmer in her eyes are more than enough to prove Redgrave’s performance here was more supplementary, but undeniably important to both the story being told in this film and the tone it has so meticulously established through its detailed engagement with these complex characters.

Ultimately, Prick Up Your Ears is a film about a failing relationship which is used as an allegory for more intimate issues, such as feelings of inadequacy once one realizes they may not become a great artist, but rather be confined to a form of mediocrity, especially when the success of those closest to us are more prominent. Frears adopts a very distinctive style in how he puts this film together, portraying the central relationship with a blend of discomfort and tenderness, showing how Kenneth and Joe were deeply in love, but also often in conflict – their social roles as lovers tended to be different to those as artists, which is where the peril rears its head, as we see them intertwine in ways that are at first disconcerting, but eventually reach a macabre crescendo. All the while, Prick Up Your Ears never resorts to heightened hysterics or implausible melodrama in telling this story, but rather grounds it within reality, using the medium to delve deep into the minds of these characters, conveying their inner quandaries and insecurites, without becoming too weighed down by their varying delusions. Prick Up Your Ears is a film about a relationship gradually heading towards destruction: but the cause of it isn’t quite clear, since the film doesn’t blame one man or the other for the problems they faced. Instead, the film is more insistent on looking deeply into the two main characters’ lives and what drove them to become the people they were, and how their story ended quite tragically. It is a staggering work, one that feels so invigorating, yet so deeply unsettling at the same time. It is a high-point in the careers of everyone involved, and while it may be intentionally uncomfortable at times (especially in the moments of anguish that are directly juxtaposed with those of more heartfelt intimacy or good-natured humour), to deny its profound, raw brilliance is misguided – its a tremendously effective piece of drama, and an absolutely essential film of its era that feels authentic, both in the discussions it is willing to have, and how it executes a plethora of challenging ideas.