No spoilers, even if it had a plot, because I turned it off before the end.
Two things in The Shooting Party work extremely well: and both are castings against type. John Gielgud, the ultimate actor-luvvie, as an early hunt saboteur, and Gordon Jackson as a lairy professional poacher, when he usually did cap-doffing yeoman or butlers. I will say he suffers a bit of accent drift. The casting of James Mason, in his last film, as an aristocrat of the old school doesn't work because James, god bless him, does a sort of bank CEO turn (see Anthony Hopkins in Meet Joe Black), which is not the same thing at all. But that doesn't matter because this is the National Trust version of Brideshead Revisited.
For the rest of them, it's the usual suspects playing at toffs, and they have a lot of fun with old cars, guns and billiard tables. Edward Fox, who was to stuck-up black-tie wearing waxworks what Burt Kwouk was to Japanese POW camp commandants, does it on autopilot and it shows. A special mention however for two of the absolutely worst child actors I've seen in a long time. Producer's kids, probably. Sorry kids, I hope you found gainful employment in accountancy later on.
It's good that they have plenty to do at this country house, because as far as the audience is concerned, there's NOTHING GOING ON. Some will say that the film lyrically shows the imminent collapse of the English aristocracy on the eve of World War I; I say this film will tell you more about the collapse of the English film industry under the weight of poorly scripted son-et-lumière nostalgia masquerading as historical drama - the sort of thing Stephen Poliakoff does on TV, or used to before budgets got really tight.
This, of course, is the point of The Shooting Party - it was trying to show upstart TV that UK cinema could do costume drama so much better in the 1980's. Unfortunately it was wrong. The 1981 TV version of Brideshead Revisited will tell you all you need to know about the decline of the English ruling class, as well as being a rattling good yarn. The Shooting Party isn't so much a yarn as a bit of tinsel.
Two things in The Shooting Party work extremely well: and both are castings against type. John Gielgud, the ultimate actor-luvvie, as an early hunt saboteur, and Gordon Jackson as a lairy professional poacher, when he usually did cap-doffing yeoman or butlers. I will say he suffers a bit of accent drift. The casting of James Mason, in his last film, as an aristocrat of the old school doesn't work because James, god bless him, does a sort of bank CEO turn (see Anthony Hopkins in Meet Joe Black), which is not the same thing at all. But that doesn't matter because this is the National Trust version of Brideshead Revisited.
For the rest of them, it's the usual suspects playing at toffs, and they have a lot of fun with old cars, guns and billiard tables. Edward Fox, who was to stuck-up black-tie wearing waxworks what Burt Kwouk was to Japanese POW camp commandants, does it on autopilot and it shows. A special mention however for two of the absolutely worst child actors I've seen in a long time. Producer's kids, probably. Sorry kids, I hope you found gainful employment in accountancy later on.
It's good that they have plenty to do at this country house, because as far as the audience is concerned, there's NOTHING GOING ON. Some will say that the film lyrically shows the imminent collapse of the English aristocracy on the eve of World War I; I say this film will tell you more about the collapse of the English film industry under the weight of poorly scripted son-et-lumière nostalgia masquerading as historical drama - the sort of thing Stephen Poliakoff does on TV, or used to before budgets got really tight.
This, of course, is the point of The Shooting Party - it was trying to show upstart TV that UK cinema could do costume drama so much better in the 1980's. Unfortunately it was wrong. The 1981 TV version of Brideshead Revisited will tell you all you need to know about the decline of the English ruling class, as well as being a rattling good yarn. The Shooting Party isn't so much a yarn as a bit of tinsel.