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Shine (1996)
This is one of the most important and insightful films of 1996, and arguably the best musical biopic since Milos Forman's Amadeus from 1984. This time, it's not a world-famous, legendary composer we get to meet, but an unusual piano talent – and his road to failure. His name is David Helfgott, and he is embodied here, heart and soul, by Noah Taylor (as an adolescent) and Geoffrey Rush (as an adult). From Helfgott's mental illness begins to manifest during his teen years, propelled by a typically harsh mid-20th century upbringing and an abrasive relationship with his father Peter (Armin Mueller-Stahl), the film's juxtaposition of Helfgott's award-winning talent and the hopelessness he feels facing the world gives Shine an irresistible bittersweet quality, which director Scott Hicks milks and utilizes expertly, but never without a genuine concern for his subject. Noah Taylor's performance as the young Helfgott is masterful. He exhibits, in a subdued manner, Helfgott's ambivalence in relation to almost every person in his life, even those who had an obvious positive influence on him, such as his London music teacher Cecil Parkes (John Gielgud). It is Taylor who lays the foundation for Geoffrey Rush's final half-hour of trying to pick Helfgott find his place in life again, aided by his girlfriend Gillian (Lynn Redgrave) and his rediscovered love for music and the piano. The latter is, of course, the real message of the film. It's an obvious but at the same time so universal and healing message that everyone will and should embrace it, claims Hicks. And in the film's wonderful finale, Shine is also able to be an uninhibited celebration of our inherent idiosyncrasy as human beings. Hicks ultimately wants to underplay the pathological aspect of Helfgott's being, which, to me, feels like a sensible human approach. Shine is a love story in the broadest sense. End note: The music in Shine
is mainly played by David Helfgott himself, making the soundtrack
intimately beautiful. The musical highlight here is David's final
concerto in London, where he plays Rachmaninoff – with the 92-year-old Sir
John Gielgud watching and listening enthusiastically. You've got to be
in awe of this incredible British actor, who made his movie debut all
the way back in 1924! Hang in there a few more years, Sir John. Your
grandeur is perfect for films like this.
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