LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) – Having created an indelible rogue’s gallery of lovable freaks and nonconformists, Johnny Depp ventures deep into the realm of the monstrous in the demanding film “The Libertine.” – By Sheri Linden
He delivers a haunting portrait of the 17th-century poet, provocateur and debauchee John Wilmot, second Earl of Rochester, who achieved literary acclaim only after his lingering death at 33, ravaged by syphilis and alcohol. One of the achievements of director Laurence Dunmore’s insistently gritty first feature is that his protagonist, a repellent creature of rapacious sensual appetites, grows more recognizable the more physically grotesque he becomes. A dark cousin to such screen rapscallions as Raoul Duke, Jack Sparrow and, yes, Willy Wonka, Depp’s dissolute earl possesses a staggering allure, sorrow and intelligence beneath the blood-chilling sneer.
“You will not like me,” Rochester promises from the shadows in his to-the-camera prologue. Stephen Jeffreys’ screenplay, based on his play, doesn’t explain or excuse the behavior of a man devoted to pleasure and yet numb to it. A favorite in the king’s court, though no worshipper of the throne, Rochester accepts a commission to write a major work of literature for Charles II (John Malkovich, who shepherded the project over its nine-year development after playing the title role in the U.S. premiere of the play). Rather than get to work, Rochester pursues his commitment to drink and sex, between escapades trading pornographic ripostes with writers George Etherege (Tom Hollander) and Charles Sackville (Johnny Vegas).
Rochester is shaken from licentious routine when he sees struggling actress Lizzie Barry (Samantha Morton) booed offstage. She’s one of the first generation of female actors — following the trail blazed by women like Claire Danes’ character in “Stage Beauty” — and Rochester determines to make her the leading light of the London theater. He succeeds. Known for his brutal honesty, he demands truth from Lizzie’s performances, and the fiercely independent actress, overcoming her wariness, flourishes under his tutelage. She also becomes his lover, igniting a passion that Rochester recognizes too late.
Although capable of listening respectfully to the advice of a favorite whore (Kelly Reilly), the earl shows his pious mother (Francesca Annis) only disdain. Matters are more complex with his wife, Elizabeth (Rosamund Pike), who has her eyes wide open to his philandering. Pike is extraordinarily affecting as the woman who began her relationship with Rochester as his teenage kidnap victim and ended it as his devoted caretaker. Morton, though underused, conveys Lizzie’s ardor and formidable ambition.
Bawdiness notwithstanding, there’s a touch of the conventional in the dialogue’s self-consciously literary profusion of language. And however flavorful all the supporting turns, the piece is clearly a showcase for its star, who delves into sinister depths that his previous screen work touched upon only in moments.
