Director: Charles Gormley
Screenplay: Charles Gormley
Starring: Tom Conti, Helen Mirren
Country: UK/Scotland
Running Time: 92 minutes
Year: 1986
Vic Mathews (Tom Conti) and Ruth Chancellor (Helen Mirren) are teachers at Glasgow’s Blessed Edith Semple School. When the school authorities decide to pursue full canonization of their namesake, little miracles begin to occur and Vic has to reassess his beliefs.
One of the advantages of boutique editions is the possibility of uncovering some long-forgotten gem, especially a film that had a poor reception on its original release, perhaps misunderstood by perplexed critics. That’s not Heavenly Pursuits and it was not misunderstood on its first muted release. Probably somewhat forgotten, Charles Gormley’s film is eccentric, which might be fine if it had some clarity, but worse, it’s quite dull.
I don’t know if Gormley was trying to capture the cosiness of Gregory Girl’s or Local Hero, but that kind of magic can’t be bottled. It would have helped if the story was less confused though; it flits awkwardly between poorly pitched miracles and a romance. The two threads never mesh.
The muddy focus, lazy direction and a story that seems to perversely revel in a lack of ambition, lets down a cast of acting stalwarts. They’re not exactly being stretched, but that makes it easier for Tom Conti, Helen Mirren and David Hayman to mine possibilities. Perhaps I’m not being fair to Charles Gormley. Perhaps it is his direction pulling out these vignettes and it’s just joining them together that fails. His dialogue is naturally lively and the lead cast work it beautifully. And Conti has a wonderful physicality we don’t often see.
And yet, despite their efforts, the film falls flat constantly. The twee story lumbers along, and we grasp at every beautifully workshopped acting class to which the cast rise. A middle aged meet-cute with Conti and Mirren could have given the film a solid core, but their relationship, of sorts, leaps ridiculously. A funny moment of Mirren calling Conti a “wanker” dissipates to a romantic scene with no justification. In fact, this is where the film turns from dull to hopelessly out-dated. Mirren’s teacher is a character to who things happen and Conti’s is allowed to succeed despite his misogynistic behaviour.
Let’s not forget though, it really was a different time, and the film isn’t worth unpicking any further. It’s just that I only reviewed The Long Good Friday recently in which Mirren famously lifted her underwritten role. To see her natural and considerable ability wasted is striking.
VIDEO
Colours bloom rather harshly at times, but otherwise it’s an excellent transfer. Especially considering the penchant for colourful 80s filmmaking transferred to pale Scottish skies.
AUDIO
The audio track is fine. Dialogue is a little high and detached, though that’s typical of the mid-tier style of the age.
EXTRA FEATURES
The BFI can always be relied upon to have the most unpredictable extra features, leveraging their incredible archive. Actual material for the film itself is conspicuous by its near absence. The interview with Tom Conti is wonderful, but from then on, we have bizarrely fascinating pieces on x-rays and a short animation. Their link to the film is tenuous, but I applaud the effort!
- A Magic Touch (2024, 20 mins): Tom Conti looks back upon the making of Heavenly Pursuits in this interview recorded especially for this release.
- The Miracle (1976, 13 mins): a man attempts to escape from the prison of egotism by adopting various self-projections, but all fail until a mirror appears, inviting him to look within himself. This experimental, neo-surrealist animated film is influenced by the work of Paul Klee
- The Science of Miracles (1897-1943, 19 mins): feast your eyes on some startling scientific marvels – and wonder upon the peculiar power of X-ray photography – as you study these rare films from the vaults of the BFI National Archive
- Original trailer
- First pressing limited to 2,000 copies
- **FIRST PRESSING ONLY** booklet with new writing on the film and full film credits