We aren’t going to like him, nor does he want us to.  So declares the second Earl of Rochester, John Wilmot (Johnny Depp) at the beginning of The Libertine.  Throwing off all pretense, and with it any form of societal restraint, the Earl is the perfect definition of the film’s title.  He boasts of his sexual, drinking, and writing prowess (including the ability to do all three at once) and shows little but cynicism for anything else.  In the late seventeenth century, King Charles II (John Malkovich) rules England and despite his patronage of the arts, science, and progress in general, he counts the drunken, debauched Earl as one of his friends.

The Earl’s one repose from his cynical attitude towards life is the theater, where he emotes vicariously through the performers on stage.  Elizabeth Barry (Samantha Morton) catches his eye for her particularly weak performance, and he endeavors to turn her into the best actress in the troupe.  This is no Pygmalion/My Fair Lady story though; Elizabeth wishes to improve, but refuses any effort that would turn her into the Earl’s creation.  Elizabeth becomes the only recipient of the Earl’s affection, as he spurns his wife’s (Rosamund Pike) devotion and insults the king with a mocking, pornographic play (satire aside though, who doesn’t find a giant penis funny?).

Depp is a charming, unapologetic rogue—almost a depressed and oversexed Captain Jack Sparrow.  If he is an antihero, it’s more anti and less hero.  The Earl is correct when he states that we the audience will not like him, even though we could easily be made to by making the king he insults less likable.  However, Malkovich’s portrayal is not of a tyrant but of a monarch trying to make a better society, and his lampooning seems mean and inappropriate.  Samantha Morton conveys a deep intensity to Elizabeth and her ability to play an actor playing an actor going from bad to good is impressive.  These performances prop Libertine up despite some unfortunate drawbacks.

There are flashes of comedy in this decidedly tragic film, but they are few and far between.  For the first half hour, we’re just trying to figure out what’s going on, a process not altogether enjoyable.  Libertine’s camerawork is difficult to follow.  Grainy and often darkly lit, a few difficulties with focus are mildly distracting while the scene transitions make almost no attempt at segueing smoothly.  The resulting jerkiness makes one wonder how the movie got past the editing room in this state.

The main problem with The Libertine is not with any particular performance, but a general life-sucking quality that sees the story drained of vitality.  Instead of embracing life happily as a hedonist, the Earl lives in no small part in cynical rebellion against everything else, and it lends him no cheery outlook.  The greater meaning taken from this seems more akin to a cautionary tale, although it would be a rather strange one.  We too can vicariously smirk at some of the Earl’s frivolities and exploits, or take heed and consider that at some point, as King Charles II says, we must stop destroying and begin creating.  But this is a fairly incongruous way of getting such a point across.

Film Rating: êê  (out of 4)