‘The Wicked Lady’ or — Better than ‘Barry Lyndon’?

The film opens with a naked woman running towards camera, and as her wobbling bazoombas fill the screen the words “Directed by Michael Winner” appear. Now, it’s important to point out that Michael Winner, under the pseudonym Arnold Crust, also edited ‘The Wicked Lady’ (1983) meaning this placement of his own name over a pair of bouncing melons was explicitly intentional.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is filmmaking operating at a level of genius so astonishing in nature it practically defies description. But let’s give it a bash anyway.

‘The Wicked Lady’ is a remake of the ludicrously enjoyable 1945 period costume melodrama of the same name starring Margaret Lockwood and James Mason, only this version is produced by Cannon Films and directed by the guy who made ‘Death Wish 3’ (1985). The story is exactly the same — a “wicked lady” steals her sister’s husband-to-be only to find married life deathly boring so sneaks out at night to become a murderous highwayman and have passionate sex with other highwaymen (basically it’s costume period dogging) — only here Winner has replaced the original’s style, flair and smouldering raciness with all his typical idiosyncratic trademarks: i.e. crassness, vulgarity, an active rejection of any form of taste, nonessential nudity, blunt shock value and a technical scrappiness that boggles belief.

For example — the cinematographer is the great Jack Cardiff, possibly the finest British cameramen who ever lived. So how come we’re looking at shots where we can clearly see the camera crew reflected in bedroom mirror? It’s almost as though you can hear Winner shouting “Cut! And that’ll do. What? There was a mistake? Who cares? We’re not making art here, darling. Next!”

Now, before any Winner fans reading this get their knickers in a twist, this is not a criticism. In fact, it’s a compliment because, personally speaking, I’d rather watch something scrappy yet dynamic than a piece of “perfectionism” that’s had all the life and energy beaten out of it (I’m looking at you, Kubrick). And Winner, for all his scrappiness, can never be accused of lacking life or energy, and ‘The Wicked Lady’ is positively bursting with both.

Any excuse for nudity, violence or nude violence and Winner goes for it. Is this sleazy exploitation? Yes. It is entertaining? Absolutely. If fact, this might be Winner’s most downright entertaining feature.

Both Alan Bates and Faye Dunaway appear to be having a whale of a time camping it up to the max, especially in the scene where Bates’ betrayed highwayman comes to exact his revenge on the treacherous Dunaway by ack-ack-acking his spiteful venom at her (he’s got a sore throat, you see, after being hung). John Gielgud and Denholm Elliott are clearly in on the joke, too, so there’s plenty of hysterical nonsense to go round.

Although the film’s most hysterical, and notorious, scene is the whip-fight between Dunaway and poor Marina Sirtis (from all accounts Sirtis most certainly didn’t have fun making this, and it’s not hard to imagine why) which is so hilariously extreme you can sense Winner deliberately testing the limits (and the humour) of both the censors and the audience.

Yet this also highlights Winner’s own limitations as a filmmaker because this constant reliance on provocation and exposed flesh actually dilutes the fizzy erotic charge of the original (the 1945 version is, by far, the sexier and steamier experience simply by showing less and implying more… that plus the fact that it’s the vastly superior movie).

Tony Banks’ score possesses a pretty central theme yet lacks the necessary muscular vigour to really work but in compensation we do get treated to some wonderfully outrageous costumes plus a seriously lovely Albert Whitlock matte painting of London (“Skating… and sinning”).

‘The Wicked Lady’ is complete and utter trash, but it’s the type of highly entertaining trash Winner could do so well (i.e. indefensible trash). Sure, the original might be the better film but this isn’t too far behind in terms of pure fun, and there’s even some things Winner’s does better. An example? Winner’s has the better final shot, without a doubt. That single closing image alone is camp melodrama at its most glorious.