The Magus (dir. Guy Green, 1968) — Review

Upon its release in 1965, John Fowles’ hefty postmodern tome The Magus was an instant hit among the navel-gazing, spliff-puffing readership of the day — doubtless due in part to the clear streak of British self-abasement running through its existential pronouncements. With lashings of sun, sea, and steamy shenanigans, like an airport novel abridging of Camus, the original version of The Magus relied openly, and entirely, on the benevolence of the reader’s imagination — making the utter self-indulgence of the tale of an Oxford grad fending off a troupe of lithe, randy young women on a Greek island just about bearable.

Alas, when Fowles decided to cast his avatar out into the world in film as well as in print, the illusion was spoiled.

Perceived as a commentary on the aftermath of two world wars, the decline of Western religion, and the timeless nature of human condition, The Magus is an absolute disaster. Perceived, however, as essentially a very long, very British Star Trek knockoff, it is deeply enjoyable.

In the wake of the film’s critical and commercial bombing — it lost Fox nearly $5 million — almost everyone involved lined up to bash it, from stars Michael Caine and Candice Bergen to Fowles himself (adding yet another layer of postmodern irony, since he had written the screenplay). If Fowles’ deeper message got lost, it’s more than adequately replaced by the glorious sixties schlock of a beautiful film, which at least managed to claw back a Best Cinematography BAFTA and a cult following for its troubles.

Michael Caine stars as Nicholas Urfe, a disillusioned English teacher at a Greek island boarding school in the 1950s, fleeing his post-Oxford ennui and a messy breakup. Modelled, obviously, on Fowles’ own experience, the Urfe of the novel is colored by a thick layer of self-deprecating narration, allowing the reader to snort at the self-confessed fantasies of a spoiled, nihilist horndog. Unfortunately, Caine, despite being a famous cockney, is far too handsome and professional to convey Urfe with the scorn which the character cries out for. With his perpetually bared barrel chest, weirdly iridescent blonde crew cut, and occasionally stilted, melodramatic diction, Urfe is more Captain Kirk than Charles Ryder, even before the bevy of mysterious, soft-focused babes float onscreen to paw at his exotically Anglo-Saxon loins.

Wandering out of the school one day, Urfe meets the mysterious Conchis (Anthony Quinn), a leathery and immensely rich older man resident on the other side of the island in a villa which appears, in typical sixties form, to be made out of styrofoam. The period decor extends to the obligatory raft of creepy prop antiquities, and to the ravishing Candice Bergen, burdened with the challenging role of ‘mysterious and sexy woman’. Challenging indeed, as the true name or identity of this ‘mysterious sexy woman’ is deliberately left unclear even in the book. Bergen later complained: "I didn't know what to do and nobody told me. I couldn't put together the semblance of a performance." But she looks great doing it.

The film then descends into a chaotic montage of Edwardian courtship, hypnosis, pronouncements on (and reenactments of) Nazism, séances, and underwater handjobs. The whole glorious mess is set to a soundtrack reminiscent of The Twilight Zone during moments that aspire to the cerebral, or, more frequently, yet more Star Trek-esque dramatic wheezing of horns or spooky plink-plonking. The cast does a fine job of wheezing through a lurid assemblage, which possesses all the twists and turns of a schlocky psychological thriller with absolutely none of the necessary plot clarity. William Goldman reports in his memoir that when Peter Sellers was asked if he’d do anything in his life differently, he responded with "I would do everything exactly the same except I wouldn't see The Magus." His advice should be ignored by anyone with 90-odd minutes to spare for a luscious, acid-trip sixties progenitor of Shutter Island crossed with Mamma Mia.

Áine Kennedy is a London-based writer and manager of the ScriptUp blog.