By itself, the prospect of seeÂing Sir Ben KingsÂley play SalÂvador DalĂ would be enough to get more than a few movieÂgoÂers into the theÂater (or onto their couchÂes, streamÂing). But then, so would the prospect of seeÂing him play pracÂtiÂcalÂly anyÂone: MahatÂma GandÂhi (as the AcadÂeÂmy acknowlÂedged), or Georges MĂ©liès, or Dmitri Shostakovich, or a foulÂmouthed LonÂdon gang enforcer. DalĂÂland, which comes out next month, promisÂes a rich porÂtrayÂal of DalĂ not just by KingsÂley, but by also Ezra Miller, an actor posÂsessed of a physÂiÂcal resemÂblance to the artist in his youth as well as a pubÂlic life seen as scanÂdalous and occaÂsionÂalÂly crimÂiÂnal.
This choice of castÂing, with the trouÂbled Miller playÂing the young DalĂ and the ultra-respectable KingsÂley playÂing the old, reflects a cerÂtain intent to capÂture the dualÂiÂty of the charÂacÂter himÂself. KingsÂley has spoÂken of develÂopÂing his interÂpreÂtaÂtion of Dalà “based on his lanÂguage; his behavÂior; his taste in love, life, food, wine, and everyÂthing; and also his darÂing to break so many rules.”
You can hear him reflect more on the expeÂriÂence in the DeadÂline HolÂlyÂwood video just below. “I love his work,” he says. “I love his fearÂlessÂness, and he was exhilÂaÂratÂing and exhaustÂing to play, as I anticÂiÂpatÂed he would be.” He also has high praise for direcÂtor Mary HarÂron, who’s known for her adapÂtaÂtion of Bret EasÂtÂon Ellis’ AmerÂiÂcan PsyÂcho.
HarÂron’s first feaÂture was I Shot Andy Warhol, about Warhol’s near-murÂderÂer Valerie Solanas, and her most recent, CharÂlie Says, tells the stoÂry of Leslie Van Houten and the ManÂson famÂiÂly. Such picÂtures demonÂstrate her facilÂiÂty with bioÂgraphÂiÂcal draÂma, as well as her investÂment in the culÂture of postÂwar AmerÂiÂca and the eccenÂtric perÂsonÂalÂiÂties that both enlivened and darkÂened it. DalĂÂland takes place in the winÂter of 1974, which DalĂ and his wife Gala spent at the St. RegÂis Hotel in New York. Its proÂtagÂoÂnist, a young gallery employÂee played by ChristoÂpher Briney, gets pulled into DalĂ’s world and becomes responÂsiÂble for makÂing sure the artist has all the work ready for his fast upcomÂing show.
“The film’s sevÂenÂties setÂting allows it to be a porÂtrait of the moment when the art world underÂwent its tecÂtonÂic shift, fusÂing with the monÂey culÂture, becomÂing a kind of pigÂgy bank for the wealthy,” writes VariÂety’s Owen GleiberÂman. “DalĂ and Gala have, in their way, played into this. They’re exploiters of DalĂ’s legÂend who have, in turn, been exploitÂed.” At that time DalĂ still had about fifÂteen years to go, but KingsÂley sees the periÂod as “posÂsiÂbly the closÂing chapÂters of DalĂ’s life,” the setÂting of “his comÂing to terms with morÂtalÂiÂty, a subÂject with which he strugÂgled dreadÂfulÂly.” The pheÂnomÂeÂnon witÂnessed by Briney’s charÂacÂter, and thus the audiÂence, is “how a genius leaves the world” — and, in this parÂticÂuÂlar case, leaves it conÂsidÂerÂably more surÂreÂal than he found it.
RelatÂed conÂtent:
A Soft Self-PorÂtrait of SalÂvador DalĂ, NarÂratÂed by the Great Orson Welles
Two VinÂtage Films by SalÂvador DalĂ and Luis Buñuel: Un Chien Andalou and L’Age d’Or
SalÂvador DalĂ on What’s My Line?
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂter Books on Cities, the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles and the video series The City in CinÂeÂma. FolÂlow him on TwitÂter at @colinmarshall or on FaceÂbook.