In a revelatory documentary from a few years ago, which served to be an intimate and insightful portrait into the personal and professional life of one of cinema’s greatest iconoclasts, David Lynch spoke about a concept known as “the art life”, which he defined (or rather, loosely commented on, and which I’m paraphrasing here, based on his vague but compelling commentary) as being a particular way of seeing the world through an artistic perspective, finding the beauty in everyday life, and realizing that absolutely anything can be considered art if one approaches it correctly. We don’t always realize that we’re surrounded by art on a daily basis, so much of the world around us being the product of someone’s artistic vision, even if that wasn’t the original intention. Very few films have been able to capture this more than Ronald Neame’s astonishing The Horse’s Mouth, an adaptation of Joyce Cary’s fascinating novel that leaps into the world of art through the story of Gulley Jimson, a middle-aged artist who sees the world in various shades of paint. Written by Alec Guinness, who also incidentally plays the leading role and gives probably the finest performance of his long and prolific career (a contentious opinion, but one that could easily be argued in favour of, since this is incredible work), the film is an elegant and hilariously irreverent comedy that uses its platform to not only entertain viewers, but also to impart a particular message that would normally be otherwise muddled in more serious works. Neame, a director who worked in many different genres throughout his career, lends an assured hand to the pure, unhinged madness incited by Guinness and his cohorts in this adaptation, turning narrative anarchy into one of the most profound and compelling expressions of the artistic spirit, which as Lynch so poignantly states, gradually evolves into the art life, which we experience first-hand through this utterly delightful film that finds so much value in life’s simplest pleasures.

Not enough is written about Alec Guinness as one of the most versatile actors of his generation. There is certainly an abundance of praise heaped upon him as one of the most consistently strong character actors, but he’s often taken for granted, reduced to a small handful of performances in films that have pervaded the public consciousness, not necessarily due to his work (consider that his most well-known film is likely to be Star Wars – A New Hope, which contains a terrific performance from the actor, but not one nearly encompassing of his many gifts). As a comedic actor, very few could match his level of talents, since his versatility and willingness to do anything to characterize his roles beyond mere archetypes made him such a compelling screen presence. A talented actor who had an almost chameleonic control of his craft, Guinness was able to play any role – and its in this flexibility that we get The Horse’s Mouth, which is a perfect exploration of his talents. Perhaps it doesn’t have him playing multiple characters, as was the case with another tremendous comedic masterpiece he is known for (Kind Hearts and Coronets), but that same madcap energy is contained within Gulley Jimson, a hilariously bizarre character who the actor brings such incredible depth to. Each moment he is on screen, we never quite know what to expect – we could be witness to yet another one of his rambling monologues about how accursed his life has been, and how he’s owed something by others (normally accompanied by elaborate vocal impressions, such as his telephonic communication as the “Duchess of Blackpool”), or we could see one of the rare moments of lucidity, where he dives into a passionate soliloquy about what art means to him. The Horse’s Mouth is built entirely on the work Guinness is doing (which makes sense, since he did write the film), and everything that makes it so special is filtered through his incredible work, which doesn’t receive the recognition it deserves.

The area in which The Horse’s Mouth succeeds the most is in how unexpected it is, functioning as a very funny comedy that isn’t averse to some more challenging subject matter. Fashioned as a delightfully upbeat screwball comedy in the sense that it has a hilarious story, populated by some of the most eccentric characters we’re likely to encounter (there doesn’t appear to be a single person in this film that seems realistic, which is part of its charm – everyone exists on some level of madness, rather than having some of them come across as sane, which would take us out of this deliriously fun world Neame and Guinness created for us), and writing that brings out the inherent oddity of this story – after all, The Horse’s Mouth does centre on a very strange group of individuals in a version of the world that is slightly detached from reality. Yet, the film never goes too far, and everyone involved knows precisely how to play to the rafters for the sake of entertainment, but also had the good sense to reign the madness in when it was necessary, which created several situations where the film seemed to be heading towards complete derailment and a submersion into complete, unmitigated chaos, but pulls itself back up by the bootstraps just in time to continue being this fascinating comedy that flirts dangerously close with lunacy, but knows how to handle both tone and form with incredible aplomb. Neame was a fascinating filmmaker, so it only makes sense that, even with as deranged a comedy as this, he’d employ an orderly approach to the directorial process, where absolutely everything had some intention and reason for being included, even if it feels as if this is a work driven entirely by the manic exuberance of some very strange individuals. The extent to which The Horse’s Mouth manages to captivate us through well-placed incredulity towards rationality is incredible, and comes to create such an exceptionally funny, insightful comedy that refuses to take itself all that seriously.

However, beneath the insanity is a very tender story, which is another aspect of the film that contributes to it being quite special. While it is upbeat, hilarious and filled to the brim with witty repartee and outrageous visual humour, The Horse’s Mouth also has a very soft-hearted approach to its story, which is shown through the occasional diversion into the realm of serious commentary – it doesn’t draw us out of the film to see some more insightful discussion, since its only sporadic, and serves a complimentary purpose, rather than trying to nullify the more outrageous subject matter. It levels out the swashbuckling audacity, and gives nuance to a story that greatly depends on the balance between humour and pathos, which is perhaps the part of the film that works the most – there is literally method to the madness, and the sequences that see Guinness’ character explaining the artistic process, as well as giving a brief tutorial on how to appreciate art, is one of the finest pieces of commentary on art I’ve heard ever produced in a film. It has a depth that many might not have expected from what appears to just be a diverting, silly comedy – and it’s in these moments that we realize how wonderful this film actually is, since it isn’t afraid to bring out the melancholy that underpins so much of this story. It manages to be quite heartbreaking at times, since despite his very clear eccentricities, the main character is a man who just wants to express himself through his art, being driven to develop all his quirks as a defence against the naysayers that exist around him. It becomes quite touching, and actually finds the humanity in a story that could have just as easily been wall-to-wall absurdity, but is instead a poignant and heartwarming elegy to the artistic process, as seen through the eyes of someone who has committed himself entirely to the pursuit of some truth through his craft.

The Horse’s Mouth comes very close to being an outright masterpiece – in fact, it may have each met that exact threshold, with the only aspect keeping it from consolidating itself as one of the finest films of its era being that the audience may just not know what to do with this story. It has such a distinct style, but one that is detached from everything we think we know about film – it’s too absurd to be considered a simple comedy of manners, but it still manages to be restrained enough to prevent it from becoming unconvincing. Neame was a masterful filmmaker, and through guiding the incredible script written by Guinness, who showed remarkable prowess as a screenwriter (as well as a lack of vanity, since he may have written himself an interesting role, but avoided being the sole focus, giving equal attention to the terrific cast around him). It’s a beautifully strange film with a lot of heart and an even larger sense of humour, all of which goes back to its insightful commentary on the world of art. We don’t find many films that are as honest and unflinching in their portrayal of the artistic process, showing it as something that isn’t always the space occupied by tortured souls, but can also be home to those who just want to express themselves. The film celebrates art as a binding force – we’re all driven together by a love of expression, and as the stunning climax shows, most of us would not give a second thought to creating something that will leave a legacy, even if the work itself (or what it represents) may be finite. Unexpectedly poetic, outrageously funny and unforgettable in both its ideas and their execution, The Horse’s Mouth is an absolute marvel, and one of the strongest works on the subject of art, both its creation and the appreciations of it, ever committed to film.