Reminiscent in spirit of a grander, much spiffier Fawlty Towers, Beechum House resembles a nursing home not one iota. Similarly, the pain and suffering of old age makes nary a dent here. Equal parts cute and dignified, Quartet marks the directorial debut of 75-year-old Dustin Hoffman with the whimper of feel-good fluff.
Released in Philadelphia on the same day as the multiple Oscar nominee Amour, Quartet is certainly the flipside of the gravity of the conditions faced by an aging couple as presented by the Michael Haneke film. Yet any positive notions of aging gracefully, while certainly evident in Quartet, are craftily tempered by a fundamental dishonesty within its seriocomic framework. As Roger Ebert pointed out none of the characters here even have so much as one visitor in this fairytale of a home for retired musicians and opera stars. Small pleasures present themselves alright. It’s fun to watch these spirited souls burst out into song at the drop of a hat. Billy Connolly provides an often witty take on the lascivious old coot eager to push the boundaries on acceptable behavior. And Maggie Smith is here, reprising her favorite alter ego: the grump displayed in Downtown Abbey and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. Tom Courtenay is even here. Audiences old enough to remember him from 1963’s Dr. Zhivago may gasp that he’s still the same vibrant Tom Courtenay.
The audacious Michael Gambon portrays a tyrannical figure who rallies the troops of this odd home to put on a fundraiser to save Beecham House from financial ruin. It is to take place on Verdi’s birthday and to pack the necessary wallop, it will require a reluctant Smith to overcome her unwillingness to reunite with Courtenay (a bitter ex-husband), Connolly, and Pauline Collins. Their mission? To tackle the Act 3 Quartet from Rigoletto no less. With the real life Hedsor House in Buckinghamshire, near London, offering somewhat over-dazzling backdrops, Courtenay must decide whether to forgive Smith for a marriage indiscretion, Smith on whether to sing again, and Collins on whether she can overcome an increasing dotiness (itself portrayed only in the safest terms) in order to pull off the project.
Just when it all comes together, Hoffman cuts away as the big performance is about to start. We’re treated with a cover version of the Quartet as the credits roll. Before we’ve had time to digest this sleight of hand, the credits reveal another feel-good crescendo: many of the supporting characters in the film are actual ex-opera stars. Who knew?
