The second Earl of Rochester, John Wilmot (Depp), is a free spirit without any sense of morality. His wife (Pike) puts up with his antics, while his friends bask in his raucous, intelligent glow. Charles II (Malkovich) commissions him to write a play for a visiting dignitary, but the patently obscene production sits at odds with John's sudden discovery that he might be in love with his lead actress (Morton). Although she's not about to follow him into the hole he's digging for himself.

Opening with a to-camera monologue in which John states that he doesn't want us to like him, we know from the start that this is going to be a journey into depravity and, of course, redemption. Dunmore films it in deep shadow; everything takes place in a muddy gloom that looks interesting on screen but continually obscures the action (it'll be unwatchable on video). And Jeffreys' script isn't much clearer, wallowing in shadowy decadence with dialog that sounds written, not spoken--like Shakespeare filtered through Tarantino. It's intelligent and literary, but rarely believable.

Fortunately the cast brings the characters to vivid life, adding texture and colour. Depp gives a dazzling tour de force as a man who loses his soul, then his heart, then his body. It's a continually surprising performance. Yet even though his interaction with Morton and Pike is sharp and smart, the mannered filmmaking keeps it from being as emotional as it should be.

As artful and lively as this film is, the filmmakers seem to get bogged down in their moralising message, only offering token portrayals of decadence in lieu of a cautionary tale about a wasted life. Darkly elegant and sometimes brilliant, it's still a grim mess of a movie. Yet even as the drifting plot gets melodramatic and ill-defined, Depp holds it together and keeps us glued to our seats. His final scenes are staggering.

themes, language, violence, sexuality, nudity

23.Sep.05