Movie review • The last of England : the decline of an ultra-liberal society by Derek Jarman

A true visual and poetic symphony, Last of England remains one of Derek Jarman’s most experimental and popular films, bringing together a whole host of images, sounds and cultural references.


The Last of England is a film object with a radical singularity. Taking the opposite of fictional linearity followed by Sebastiane, Jubilee and The Tempeste, The Last of England unfolds a deeply diffracted narrative. many stories as heterogeneous by the genres they summon as by the temporalities in which they fit. We thus jump from a sequence of gay iconoclasm showing an ephemeral punk trampling on Caravaggio’s Victorious Love (before masturbating on it) to that of the brief execution of a man by a trio of militiamen with fascist-like looks. Both appear, moreover, to unfold in a near and dystopian future.

These hooded and armed men will be discussed in another episode featuring a group of captives and captives placed in their care. And over which seems a frightening genocidal threat. But on the other hand, there is no trace of these paramilitaries during their escapes to the edges of the fantastic, alternating the ancient vision of a dancing fauna and that of a "Boschian" one of a torchbearer with a strange conical headgear. The same supernatural fragrance still pervades the wild dance of a woman embodied by Tilda Swinton, filmed in slow motion against the background of the setting sun, and akin to some shamanic ecstasy. The same Tilda Swinton who, in previous scenes with queer humor, embodies a virginal bride (or almost ... since accompanied by a newborn) having for witnesses two beefy bearded and hairy, dressed in Pompadour fashion...

If the reappearance of certain protagonists can fleetingly create in the spectators the impression of a narrative continuity, this is however regularly put in check by the sudden emergence - most often cut, the editing sometimes goes as far as to curl the epileptic - images fundamentally foreign to the scene in progress. In particular those that Derek Jarman will draw from amateur films made by his own grandfather and father between the 1920s and the eve of the Second World War. Some of these stills show members of the filmmaker's family smiling placidly at the camera. Others show shots of RAF airplanes on the ground or in flight filmed by his father in service. And these documentary projections thus dynamise the internal coherence of the fictional sequences.

Relating to a priori antithetical registers, these images from reality and those produced by the filmmaker are nevertheless linked by a disturbing formal kinship. Derek Jarman has indeed chosen to shoot the whole of The Last of England in super-8. What's more, filmed by an extremely mobile camera - at the risk of being clumsy like that of an amateur - the film's most extravagant science-fictional or dreamlike flights take on para-documentary attire. And the eye soon finds it difficult to distinguish the authentic Jarman family archives from the shots imagined and staged by the director. As if the latter did not seem to make any difference between these traces of reality that are the memory images of home movies and those artificial ones coming to represent his fantasies ... Such an assimilation is not without recalling the point of view of Alain Resnais regarding to the question of memory and the images generated by it.

The director of Hiroshima mon amour envisioned memory not as a documentary recording of reality but as an integral part of the imaginary. The Last of England would still be - in its admittedly hardcore way ... - by its script explosion evoking that of Muriel or the time of a return or even of Stavisky ... And whose apparent disorder marries in reality the erratic dynamic of the imagination. It is therefore possible to understand The Last of England as a fascinating "documentary on the imaginary" by Derek Jarman himself. A reading to which the filmmaker himself seems to invite his spectators. Since the opening sequence stages him as the narrator of a film whose images seem, by the grace of the editing, to literally flow from his speech.

In addition, constantly echoing other titles by Derek Jarman, The Last of England brings together in a single film motifs scattered between Sebastiane, Jubilee and The Tempest. From Sebastiane, we find in The Last of England his ambivalent evocation of sexuality, viewing it as well in its most solar light as in its most distressing aspect. Notably in a halting sex scene between Eros and Thanatos, showing a naked man roughly making love to a militiaman against a backdrop of Union Jack. The punk vandalism sequences in The Last of England evoke the iconoclastic connection to art that Derek Jarman spectacularly demonstrated in Jubilee. In addition, The Last of England incorporates in its more baroque episodes the aesthetic of The Tempest, mixing cross-dressing and wonder in an ostensibly queer way.

Both compendium and manifesto of his inner universe, The Last of England was undoubtedly also a kind of anticipated testament for Derek Jarman. We will not forget that the filmmaker made this film in 1987, barely a few weeks after learning of his HIV status on December 22, 1986. That is to say in times when surviving AIDS was inconceivable as well. as recently recalled 120 beats per minute of Robin Campillo. While Derek Jarman obviously did not know he would succumb to the consequences of the virus eight years later, he no doubt considered his days to be numbered when he produced this sumptuous work of The Last of England.


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