James Erskine (director)
(studio)
12A (certificate)
88 (length)
23 February 2018 (released)
21 February 2018
There’s possibly a few reasons why this film is released now: there’s the current Winter Olympics, and the upcoming I, Tonya feature about the American figure skater Tonya Harding. But the simplest and most compelling is that John Curry’s story has long been overdue for telling. He was a key factor to the later success of British ice skating at the Olympics, his pioneering post Olympics projects, and he was the first openly gay Olympian.
This writer well remembers John Curry winning the gold medal at the 1976 Innsbruck Winter Games and afterwards along with the rest of the class looking up where Innsbruck actually was! A British success in these games was rare that it should come from a virtually unknown sport was remarkable. Where had he come from?
The film opens with Curry in conversation with Roy Plomley on Desert Island Discs, in 1977. As such director James Erskine discards a linear narrative for a more fragmented one; skipping between his childhood and early years in Birmingham and the difficulties he had with his father, and footage of Curry performing. While episodic it doesn’t jar too much as Freddie Fox’s readings of Curry’s personal letters bring a contemplative air, though adding to the enigma of an already complicated man.
It’s after 1976 that Curry truly comes into his own as a choreographer, dancer and troupe leader. Touring the world to packed houses the shows were a triumph of beauty, skill and grace. However, these artistic triumphs didn’t always translate into a healthy financial return and money was a constant concern.
Interspersed with this is Curry’s complicated private life with his family, friends and lovers. His father’s failure to understand, and his difficulties with (at times abusive) relationships. He never appeared to find true contentment maybe only with Heinz Wirz though this seems to be a more of a lifelong loving friendship. His sexuality he by turns hid and revelled in depending on the circumstances. The fact is that Curry was also a bit of a partier and was out to enjoy himself.
It is also around this period, late 70’s early 80’s, that HIV/AIDS started to be diagnosed. At the time it was virtually a death sentence, and it affected the gay community hardest. They were knocked for six, doubly so as it further inflamed prejudice against them.
There were no boundaries. The cruelty and tragedy of the virus is coldly poignant in a fuzzy piece of film of Curry and three other skaters in flamboyant purple and blue costumes dancing to the Blue Danube: they would all eventually succumb to AIDS.
Nothing is glossed and nothing is lingered on either, Curry’s faults and strengths are presented as they were. We don’t ever get to the centre of the man, genius isn’t easy to analysis but we get an insight into his character, and an appreciation of how exceptional an athlete he was.
That image was built as Erskine has got some frank interviews, and very rare archive footage. The latter is significant, including what is considered to be his masterpiece, Moonskate. This is in pretty good condition. Other recordings are ropey and there’s little of it. It’s a great pity that we don’t have more but it does make one wonder what his 1984 William Tell at the New York Metropolitan Opera must have looked like from sole, poor quality fragment of footage that exists.