The Belly of an Architect (1990) – DVD

***/**** Image B+ Sound A-
starring Brian Dennehy, Chloe Webb, Lambert Wilson
written and directed by Peter Greenaway

by Travis Mackenzie Hoover Living as I do in Toronto's rapidly-gentrifying Queen West gallery district, I am often subjected to graffiti and other detritus romantically asserting the social necessity of art and aesthetics–as if a fresh coat of paint and some nicely-arranged furniture will somehow go towards solving the homeless problem. I find this hilarious, because despite the left-wing cast that the artistic community has acquired, it can all too easily turn into the plaything of the rich, as has happened with local hotspot the Drake Hotel, a former transient lodge transformed into a posh art venue and nightclub for pretentious scenesters. Peter Greenaway's The Belly of an Architect simultaneously addresses and embodies the creative hubris that overlooks this fact, whipsawing between annoyance at its corpulent hero's placement of aesthetic considerations above all human interactions and wistfully lamenting the fact that such considerations often add up to nothing. If the results are imperfect, they'll at least give the art-minded a certain amount of pause.

Stourley Kracklite (Brian Dennehy) is a prominent American architect visiting Rome. He's come to put on an exhibit for obscure French architect Étienne-Louis Boullée (1728-1799), something he's been planning for years and in which he has invested much of his ego strength. Maybe a little too much–he soon finds that lesser colleague and assistant Caspasian Speckler (Lambert Wilson) is not exactly on the up-and-up: not only does he have designs on Kracklite's much younger wife (Chloe Webb), but he may also be diverting funds from the exhibition to pay for the restoration of fascist architecture. But the situation is possibly less cut and dried than simple finger-pointing, since Kracklite brings at least some of his problems on himself by obsessing over his beloved Boullée and making paranoid accusations over his wife's non-existent poisoning attempts. Is he driving her into Caspasian's arms? Is he causing the Boullée project to collapse? Or is he taking a stand for certain artistic values that need protecting?

The distinction turns out to be a fine one. There's no denying Greenaway's dedication to the art world–he is, after all, a painter-turned-avant-garde filmmaker-turned-arthouse darling. And his erudition and formal rigour inform every frame: he gets big mileage out of the Roman architectural marvels that he clearly loves and therefore must identify with his protagonist's consuming desire to elevate art to the top tier. But being less casually leftist, Greenaway also has to admit the absurdity of making art the number-one consideration, and so he finds himself in a nasty bind. Building as they do monuments to fascism and other dangerous ideologies, to not keep the ethics of one's work is to let the Caspasian Specklers of the world run riot over the landscape. Yet to blur the line between culture and life is to short-change the world outside the fantasy and the people who reside within it. Kracklite is at once absolutely right about his art and completely in the dark about everything else, and this does damage to his body while jeopardizing his closest relationship.

Regrettably, The Belly of an Architect fights a battle between its painterly compositions and the drama that those compositions swallow up. While there's no denying the skill with which Greenaway renders his static compositions, his general refusal to cut into the action blunts the narrative by making nothing in a given scene seem important; his refusal to point out the important parts of the scene causes them to peter out emotionally, pushing us politely away instead of putting us in the shit with the characters. This remoteness (and for that matter, Greenaway's meticulous mise-en-scène's austerity) blunts the urgency and effectiveness of the argument. Still, if you can claw your way through the visual underbrush, you'll find a provocative thesis at the film's core–a caveat that any creative-minded individual should take to heart before he or she builds megalomaniacal monuments to one's apparent good intentions.

THE DVD
MGM's DVD release of The Belly of an Architect doesn't make a strong impression. The 1.85:1, 16×9-enhanced image is a little soft, with fine detail suffering as a consequence; darker scenes are beset by grain. The Dolby 2.0 Surround sound is unspectacular but serviceable, with Wim Mertens's percolating score coming out on top. The disc's only extra is a theatrical trailer, which, despite a lack of contrast, still has better fine detail than The Belly of an Architect's own transfer.

119 minutes; R; 1.85:1 (16×9-enhanced); English Dolby Surround; CC; English, French, Spanish subtitles; DVD-5; Region One; MGM