Bad Timing

This British drama from director Nicolas Roeg, an enigmatic filmmaker who prides himself on turning out jigsaw-puzzle movies intended for specialty audiences, isn't lusty or sensual--just perplexing. The plot has something to do with flirtatious, troubled Theresa Russell and her relationship with an odd young psychiatrist. Those who aren't especially impressed with Roeg's technique might say his films are constructed during the editing process, not before or during the actual production, and this leaves his pictures feeling empty or choppy (but always artistically choppy!). Ugly to look at, "Bad Timing" is also aloof and tiresome, though it did get some sterling notices in 1980. Curious viewers will be satisfied after about an hour. *1/2 from ****

I will admit that Bad Timing is well directed by Nicolas Roeg, a master of visuals - from his cinematography of The Masque of the Red Death (1964) to the enchanting Walkabout (1970). The use of music is effective if not as good, I suspect, as it could have been . The film falls down in three areas: the script, the acting and the length. The script is repetetive, often incoherent and tends towards the insular and melodramatic. The theme of relationships is done to death: there is no hinterland, just a monotonous unpersuasive intensity. The acting is a mixture. Not enough is made of Harvey Keitel and Denholm Elliott's talents. The crucial part is handed to Art Garfunkel, who, while not awful, is barely adequate. What was Roeg thinking there? Theresa Russell, however, gives one of her finest performances as an unstable woman. Where the film finally fails is in the way it drags on and on, with no real point and certainly few memorable scenes. The viewer is battered into submission by the repetitive, droning unsavouryness of it all. Not by any stretch of the imagination an enjoyable film. Rating:- ** 1/2 (out of *****)

I really couldn't accurately describe the contents of this movie. It's about a destructive love affair between a man played by Art Garfunkel and a woman played by Theresa Russel. Russel has attempted to commit suicide. In the hospital they're fighting for her life as Garfunkel is interrogated by a detective (Harvey Keitel) about what really happened. Slowly the real story unfolds and the viewer learns about the darker sides in both characters. Roeg switches back and forth in the chronology of the story and that makes Bad Timing an intriguing but difficult movie. The secrets that are uncovered are very shocking but one can still 'empathize' (if not sympathize) with the characters. In my opinion it's about stretching the line between good intentions and evil doings. The good part is that you can't really tell in which moment the line is crossed. See it and then see it again.

If it wasn't for the always fascinating Theresa Russell this film would be another "Bobby Deerfield". Russell and the gratuitous nudity really are the only things that are worth watching. First let me say that I do think Art Garfunkle can act and is a good supporting actor like he was in "Carnal Knowledge" but as a leading man in a slow moving film he's in over his head. I've also been a big Nicolas Roeg fan and "Walkabout" is one of my favorite films of all time. He's always been a patient director but this film seems to crawl at times and the script goes way to long when the film should have ended. At times the film becomes confusing when the two break up and then start spying on one another. They say leave me alone and the next minute their sitting in their car overnight watching the whole time. Make up your minds! Even Harvey Keitel seems out of place. This film does have its admirers from some prominent critics but you'll have a lot of explaining to get me to understand why. The whole thing seems to be a lot about very little. Thank god for Theresa Russell to make it watchable.

All I have to say is that if the hair on your butt looks just like the hair on your head, you probably shouldn't be in any sex scenes The movie was "OFF" enough without the * like scenes with art Garfunkel. I would call this a horrible flick that is a must have for any cult film collector. I wasn't even sure if the film was foreign or not thru most of it. I kept thinking to myself "what the..." All in all, I want everyone to see it if only so I don't have to be the only one. I will excuse Harvey since he later made a few flicks that were a bit more bearable than this one was. Even still, I hope everyone over the age of 20 sees this flick. Just so they can sat they did.

I didn't get this movie. 'Its a screwed up world and everybody has their problems' is the theme of the movie as far as I could tell. Garfunkel was extremely dull in the movie. Russell is better. Keitel isn't too convincing as the inspector. Also a 'cold war' vibe to the movie. Shown in flashbacks and sometimes confusing imagery. I wouldn't say don't watch it. I didn't like it but judge for yourself.

Art Garfunkel in his one great role as an American college psychology professor lusting after student Theresa Russell somewhere in Austria set in the late 70s. The camera work is amazing and keeps the same pace as the subtle plot lines and aesthetically deft sound score. Harvey Keitel plays a systematically intense police detective who has to unravel the near death of Russell following a harrowing sexual attack and drug overdose. Garfunkel is moody, and sophisticated, while never controlling as much as he is controlled by Ms Russell's ingenuous charms. Quite a psychological thriller, and a movie completely in it's own fresh mold. Anybody coming upon this film for the first time will find themselves drawn into the amazing weave which will entice them, and engage self-sexual questioning that is quite capable of opening one's own sexual subconscious. And, just for a treat. . . it almost seems as if every frame of this film is an art-piece in and of itself.

Love is internal. It is sustained by questions of doubt, tension, expectation. The solidity of the hand is strengthened by the slipperiness underfoot. So suppose you wanted to make a film about the fields that animate your anchor relationships. You couldn't do what everyone else does: deal with the tokens: the looks, the physical moving away of bodies and then re-entering. You want it to have the passion it deserves, which is a tricky thing: the passion in the relationships between the film and the viewer has to be based on the same field of passion between lovers. That field requires faith to overcome doubt. This need for investing in love as a counter to the doubts about love is what drives us, with religion and tribalisms as mere side effects. Roeg wanted to do this. During a certain sweet spot in his career, he could shape any story into this, a story about what makes story. And to do it all by cinematic misdirection. This isn't "Last Year at Marienbad," which is abstract. This is internal, subconscious, but with the real fleshy stuff we actually dream in. Some viewers will think this is a simple detective story. Bad guy lies; insistent detective catches him. It is all about sequence, the "timing" of the title. What happens first; how the thing is "explained." But I believe this is something much more important. Like Roeg's other films, these are dreams. The things that happen here — that we see — drift close to what actually happens, and then away being more like imagined fears. It is all about urges; the grandest passions rest on a collection of urges, most of which slip into uncontrollable futures. I will advise you to approach this as something that goes on in the character's soul. Polanski and Kiesloswki have the same relationship to reality, but here we work closer to image and the uncontrollable ends. The overall shape of thing is a love affair, one that is deep and all-consuming. The hero/filmmaker's mind has some tools that allow us to enter the world of dreams: — He is a "research psychoanalyst" in Vienna. This is the most unlikely of cities for intellect, and even today produces ideas that fold in on themselves in tightly wound ways. Roeg quotes "The Third Man" a bit, and assembles a number of Austrian artifacts, all having something to do with control. It is Wittgenstein in his first period. — He is a spy. He lectures about spies. He spies on patients as a theorist of obsession. He literally works for a spy agency, spying on the woman, who in other identities he is falling in love with. This is Wittgenstein in his second period, having renounced the genius of his knotted mind and theories of word play as mazes. — He is a detective, instanced as a second being, a sort of "Fight Club" alter ego that examines himself from the outside. This is Wittgenstein in his third, suicidal period, where his work was on himself. He literally builds a container, a house, here a film. Harvey Keitel since Taxi Driver understood the idea of playing and imagined other. Garfunkle's cluelessness as a person and actor is overwhelmed by him, just as that part of the character's mind is. These three fight for control of self over a woman. The film is so effective, and so energetically unsprung that there is a fourth layer outside. Roeg himself developed an obsession over this woman, falling deeply in love with her. (He would marry her.) The visual storytelling, the editing, the timeshifting, the identity swapping, the depth of texture could not have been as effective were he not obsessively in love in the three ways of the doctor. The genius of starting with Tom Waits and ending with Jarrett's Koln concert is by itself enough to make this an essential experience. Ted's Evaluation -- 4 of 3: Every cineliterate person should experience this.

I saw this film when it was originally released and it still ranks as my all-time favorite. From the opening strains of Tom Waits' gritty "Invitation to the Blues" (which is cut off by the wail of an ambulance!) every aspect--music, scenery, the astonishing acting--melds together into a masterpiece. Theresa Russell is simply a knockout as Milena, a woman who refuses to be "owned". She's beautiful, sexy, carefree, and absolutely infuriating to Art Garfunkel's psychologist Dr. Linden. His compulsion to control her leads to disaster, and Garfunkel's performance is absolutely astonishing. The expression on his face in the final scene is unforgettable. It haunts me still.

This is one of those movies that you have to force yourself to sit through - and ultimately the experience is almost completely unrewarding. The use of cross-over dialogue (most of which seems ad-libbed) becomes tedious and tiring. The repetition of lines and phrases is quickly irritating. Art Garfunkel gives a limp (no pun intended), lifeless performance. We end up with no sympathy for his character (which may have been the intent), little concern for the character's fate, and absolutely no understanding of his motivations or behaviour. There are only two reasons for tuning in: Harvey Keitel gives another stand-out performance (his character is probably the only interesting and sympathetic one in the film, and physically reminiscent of John Travolta in Pulp Fiction); and Theresa Russell's attractive and very watchable body is given ample exposure on numerous occassions. If only Art Garfunkel kept his clothes on a little more ... How to improve the movie? Less Garfunkel, more Keitel, and more of Theresa Russell's body. Oh, and a script would have helped.