One can only sit back and wonder at what the world of England in 1981 must have been like. A world in which three hours of primetime Christmas television programming on BBC1 (not BBC2, mind) was set aside for a film of comparatively funereal pacing.

That alluded to Greek mythology and Scandinavian cinema, not to mention the faint whiff of homoeroticism, and that had a plot that even David Lynch would have been scratching his head at. Twenty-some years later we would have to make do with some sort of reality-TV nonsense. Oh, how we have progressed!

From what I can gather, the film depicts a battle of some sort between Good and Evil. The Good represented by Helith (Sting), and the Evil by Asrael (Roland Curram) and his semi-willing pawn Von Drachenfels (Dan O’Herlihy). Our guide through this tale is the science-fiction novelist, Gideon (Hywell Bennett). And it is Gideon, along with his friend Gwen (Dinah Stabb), that add a human face to the proceedings. In fact, just as humanity is careering towards some impending apocalypse, Gideon and Gwen are themselves on a voyage towards some sort of emotional growth. In the final scene of the film Gideon asks Gwen of her story, how did she get there? She replies that the story is not important, but what is important is that they are there, they are where they have reached. They have developed to the point where they can be together. Gideon goes from cold and guarded to vulnerable and open, and Gwen from meek and weak to strong and opinionated. Their journeys are complete.

Another interesting aspect of Gwen’s remark is that the opposite could be said of this film. That the destination, the ending, is the unimportant aspect, that the journey is what really counts. And it is quite a journey. The first hour will test the patience of most viewers. It all appears to be wilfully obtuse, and one can‘t help but wonder what anything has to do with anything else. At least that is the case on one’s first viewing. (This is a film that demands multiple viewings.) On a second viewing, the first hour becomes absolutely mesmerising; details that at first appeared unimportant, now begin to piece together. There was a design! There is a point!

That’s not to say that people won’t enjoy the film, as I certainly did, on their first viewing. The abstract qualities of Alastair Reid’s mise-en-scène, that on a second viewing take on increased meaning, but on the first viewing have a simple beauty that one can only experience on that first viewing. David Jackson’s chiaroscuro lighting, in particular, is often quite breathtaking.

And, or course, there is also a certain amount of pleasure to be garnered from attempting to decode a particularly enigmatic work of art. I think that most of us like a good chin scratch every now and then, to exercise the intellectual muscles, and to be in the presence of an artist who respects our intelligence.

http://iainstott.blogspot.com/2008/07/artemis-81-1981-david-rudkin.html

Resource Box: Iain Stott is a 32 year old aesthete from the north west of England. http://iainstott.blogspot.com/