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6.4/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.4/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Evensong remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like your biopics to feel like a polite tea party where everyone is holding in a secret, you’ll probably get a kick out of Evensong. If you need your movies to have, you know, actual momentum or a pulse, look elsewhere. People who love historical costumes and operatic dramatics will be fine. Everyone else might feel like they’re waiting for a train that already left the station.
Evelyn Laye is playing Melba here. She’s got this intense, wide-eyed commitment to every scene that is both impressive and a little bit exhausting. She’s constantly vibrating with the effort of being a Legend. It’s like watching someone try to act while wearing a suit of armor made of expectations.
The pacing is… well, let’s call it leisurely. There are scenes that just sort of drift into the room, hang around for a bit, and then vanish without really doing much heavy lifting for the story. You get these long, sweeping shots of performance halls that feel like they were included just because they had the set for the day.
I caught a glimpse of a young Alec Guinness in the background. It’s funny seeing him before he became the icon we all know. He’s just kind of there, existing, waiting for his real career to actually start. It’s a nice little reminder that even the greats have to sit through these mid-tier dramas first.
The music is obviously the centerpiece, but the way it’s spliced into the narrative is so abrupt. One minute we’re having a quiet conversation in a drawing-room, the next we’re full-tilt in an opera house. It gave me whiplash. It reminded me of the odd transitions in Nanon, where you’re never quite sure if the movie knows what it wants to be.
There is this one moment where the camera lingers on a piece of jewelry for way too long. I’m not kidding. It’s at least six seconds of just a brooch on a table. Why? Who knows. Maybe the prop department was really proud of it. It’s those little, messy choices that make me think the director just hit 'record' and went to grab a sandwich.
It’s not a disaster, but it’s certainly not a masterpiece. It feels like a movie made by people who were told to make a "classy" film and didn't really have a better idea than to just put fancy clothes on everyone and turn up the orchestra. It lacks the weird, infectious energy of something like Half Shot at Sunrise, which at least knows how to be loud and chaotic.
I walked away feeling like I’d just read a very long, very polite letter from someone I didn't know particularly well. It’s pleasant, sure. But did I need to spend the afternoon doing it? Maybe not. 🎭
IMDb 6.5
1931
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