Getting to Know "Withnail & I"

It wasn't until I finished watching "Withnail & I" and was going through the supplemental materials on the DVD that I realized that I'd just watched a comedy. Sure, I had noticed the farcical situations and the often hysterical dialogue, but I had unconsciously categorized the film as one of the better low-budget, coming-of-age, slice-of-life, character pieces that the word "quirky" is used to describe, whether or not anything resembling a quirk is actually involved. "Withnail" has a lot of funny situations and funny people in it, but was it a funny movie? I found it disgusting, exciting, insightful, weird, moving, and wonderful, roughly in that order. Funny too, yes, in a way, but funny alone doesn't really do it justice.

The film is set in the late 60s, in London, where Withnail and the unnamed protagonist (listed in the credits as "...& I") are a pair of young, out-of-work actors who share a filthy flat, and spend much of their time drunk, high, or both at the same time. Richard E. Grant and Paul McGann made their big screen debuts as the doped-up duo, and though both went on to have successful careers, I wouldn't be surprised if these roles turn out to be the ones they're best remembered for. Grant's Withnail is a delightful creation, a mean, tempestuous, cowardly, conceited, and completely charming mess of a man. There's an awful lot of talent somewhere under all the unkempt clothes and drug paraphernalia, and you might almost feel intimidated by his imperious glances and razor-sharp wit, if he wasn't constantly on the verge of keeling over. He's such a great boozer, it's astonishing to learn that Grant is actually allergic to alcohol.

McGann, who gets points just for keeping up, plays Withnail's better half. He's the friend and roommate who has a clearer head, but nonetheless lets Withnail lead him into disastrous situations and ends up scrambling to bail them both out. Yet despite being constantly outraged and frustrated by Withnail's behavior, he never does anything about it. He's not as interesting as Withnail, not as bright, not as witty, and not as daring, but is drawn to those qualities in his friend and thus willing to forgive him just about anything. McGann gives the character a bedraggled, exasperated sincerity, that gets the audience on his side immediately. As he struggles through one calamity after another, it doesn't take long to realize that "I" has a lot more going for him than he thinks he does.

Watching these two reprobates booze around Camden Town would have made for a pretty entertaining movie, but then they get the bright idea to go for a holiday in the country, and this is where the film really takes off. Withnail's uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths) is a rich, garrulous, barely closeted old lech, who is always very generous with the wine. After paying him a visit and avoiding his advances, our heroes borrow the key to his cottage in Cumbria, and then set off to the countryside for the weekend. But what awaits them at the cottage is not what they expected. There's no heat, no food, horrible weather, and lots of mud. Having few survival skills to speak of, the hapless pair are reduced to begging for supplies from the locals and tromping around in improvised boots made of plastic bags. Tempers rise, relations become strained, and the insults get more bitter. And then an unexpected visitor shows up.

"Withnail and I" is one of those indie miracles, a film that had an unknown cast, an unproven director, and all sorts of financing and production troubles, but somehow turned out to be a classic. Bruce Robinson, best known for scripting "The Killing Fields" at the time, wrote and directed "Withnail." He patterned the characters and story off his own experiences as a struggling actor and addict, creating a very, personal, genuine piece of cinema. It captures the odd thrill of life on the brink, where Withnail can be a complete bastard to everyone because he has nothing to lose - or almost nothing. And then the film turns around and shows us - and Withnail - how little that really amounts to. If this is a comedy, it's a dark one, but it's also deeply nostalgic and a little sentimental too. Just a little, when it's not shrieking profanities or putting the poor protagonist in seriously dodgy sexual situations.

The low-end production values are actually an asset, helping to bring out the grunge and the grime of the lifestyle. There's nothing fancy or slick about the film, no distracting devices to take away from the story. The 60s setting is suggested more than recreated, especially with the help of several Jimi Hendrix songs on the soundtrack, a little Procol Harum, and even a rare Beatles song. I'm not surprised I hadn't heard much about "Withnail" before I stumbled across the DVD, because the story is tied so closely to British culture of a particular time and place and mood, watching it as an American viewer felt a little bit like trespassing on someone else's nostalgia landscape. I can't think of an American drug movie memoir that's the equivalent of "Withnail," though. At least, nothing this touching and funny and brutally honest.

It'll be hard not to think of Withnail the next time I get drunk. And it'll be hard not to think of his roommate the next time I get hung over.