KEN RUSSELL (1927–2011)

ENGLISH PROVOCATEUR

Few British filmmakers have been as controversial or as outspoken as Ken Russell, a writer-director, memoirist and photographer, whose flamboyant personality was as notorious as his work.

It would take a hardy person to claim to like all of Russell’s films without reservation: not because Russell’s films over his 40-year career ran the gamut from high art to kitsch exploitation, but because of their wildly varying quality. Occasional accusations of misogyny, blasphemy and homophobia notwithstanding, Russell has, at various times, been heralded as a filmmaker of great talent, a fascinating biographer of classical composers, an artist exploring and exploiting the fringes of popular culture and a cult director whose finest works are compelling and visionary.

Born in Southampton, Russell started his career as a freelance photographer and documentary filmmaker. He was noted for his photo-essay on teddy girls in Picture Post, and for his early short films, particularly Amelia and the Angel (1958), which attracted the attention of the BBC. Employed to work on the influential arts magazine programme Monitor, Russell soon showed an aptitude for directing expressive documentaries that interspersed interviews with dramatic recreations. He was especially drawn to biographical profiles of classical composers.

Although Russell’s Billion Dollar Brain (1967) proved he could deliver a mainstream studio hit, and Women in Love (1969) balanced the controversy of D.H. Lawrence’s novel with images of sublime beauty, the filmmaker’s subsequent career was dominated by outrage and controversy – both on and off the screen. As his films became more outrageous, he took on the personality of a flamboyant, dandy-like character who never seemed afraid to speak his mind. During this shift, Russell continued to produce portraits of classical composers, but the films increased in their bizarreness. Changing gear musically, Russell’s version of The Who’s rock opera Tommy (1975) revelled in excess. No less controversial, the filmmaker’s diptych of sexual perversion in the United States, Crimes of Passion (1984) and Whore (1991), shocked audiences and critics, with the latter’s commercial failure pretty much destroying any chance Russell had of continuing his career in the mainstream.

Despite this, Russell’s films feature moments of breathtaking beauty. The Devils (1971), arguably the closest he came to a masterpiece, is an extraordinary vision of an apocalyptic world. A provocation above all else, it is what Russell should be remembered for, its depth and passion anathema to the momentary celebrity he achieved towards the end of his career on the television show Big Brother.