(In 1971, Luchino Visconti presented the world with his film adaption of Thomas Mann's novella of Death in Venice, about a German composer, Gustave von Aschenbach, whose high spiritual vision of BEAUTY is realized when he sees young Tadzio on a vacation in Venice, Italy. At 124 minutes, many people, this reviewer included, think it takes von Aschenbach about 120 minutes too long to finally die. This review, however, begins at a later date. . . . )
Once upon a time (in 1989) there was a sexy young orphan named Todd Mahaffey and a dirty old man who thought that the hunky young orphan boy had a lot of potential (although the dirty old man's friends told him that it was just his testosterone talking). Then, to his disappointment, Todd Mahaffey went away, but soon, a sexy young twin named Brandon Walsh took his place, but the dirty old man still felt that the lad wasn't living up to his full potential. Then Brandon Walsh became television actor/producer/director Jason Priestley, and he got a job starring opposite Golden Globe and British Academy Award winning actor John Hurt and suddenly everyone was talking about what a fine "new" talent he was.
The film in question is Love and Death on Long Island, based upon Gilbert Adair's novel, and it is what Death in Venice might have been if Thomas Mann and Luchino Visconti hadn't both been such dreary, tiresome old bores. John Hurt plays the quaintly amusing "old crank" of a writer, Giles De'ath (pronounced DAY-ahth), who hasn't quite caught on to the Twentieth Century's arrival in London (he can't tell the difference between a microwave oven and a VCR, for example).
Like the insufferably tedious Gustave von Aschenbach, De'ath has also found the fulfillment of his Platonic ideals of BEAUTY - not in a skinny Tadzio, but in hunky young actor Ronnie Bostock, star of such American film classics as Hot Pants College II. What De'ath sees, however, is not a bad actor in terrible movies, but a promising young talent trapped in a world to which he is unsuited, one which he must rise above to achieve his full potential -- with the help of Dr. De'ath, of course!
De'ath determines to rescue Bostock (Priestley) from Grade Z movies and elevate him to the status of a real actor (and, we strongly suspect, hoping to get a little on the side). In order to engage in his new role of deliverer of the under-appreciated, De'ath is forced to enter the Twentieth Century, and he is soon introduced to such wonders as television, video rental shops, fax machines, pizza deliveries, teen fan magazines, shoplifting, and (of course!) stalking. Under the delicate direction of writer-director Richard Kwietniowski, Hurt's entry into the modern world is beautiful and humorous, like Miranda's discovery of her father Prospero's "brave new world" in Shakespeare's The Tempest. It has none of the depressing aspects of von Aschenbach's pathetic attempts to impress Tadzio. Rather, De'ath's efforts are those of a determined fan(atic) who is going to get what he wants, even if that means leaving the safety of London for the wilds of America. In pursuit of LOVE, De'ath takes his first airplane flight, crossing the Atlantic to Long Island, where Ronnie Bostock lives, hence the film's punning title.
On Long Island, De'ath faces numerous obstacles, from the peculiarities of American speech to the greatest obstacle of all: Ronnie Bostock's fiancee. De'ath, however, through half-truths and outright lies, soon enlists even her help in getting close to Ronnie, and eventually, he gets very close indeed.
Ronnie, entranced by the impressiveness of this foreign, exotic, cultured Englishman, finally comes to believe that he is capable of more than schlock work, and begins working closely with the internationally respected author on a rewrite of the latest Hot Pants College II sequel, a rewrite which will give Bostock at least one scene in which his talents will rise so far above the rest of the film that he must finally be recognized as a serious actor.
As the moment arrives for Ronnie to achieve his goal of being taken seriously, however, De'ath pushes too hard and Ronnie realizes that De'ath is endeavoring to come between him and his fiancee, which leads the viewer into the suspenseful climax of the film: will Ronnie Bostock, schlock actor, make the switch and go with the celebrated author to London, or will De'ath die ignominiously (like his spiritual forebear, von Aschenbach), or will something completely different happen, surprising everyone? Love and Death on Long Island is a film of rare sensitivity and grace, and the redeeming irony of its humor makes one wish for a sequel (as opposed to praying for Visconti's von Aschenbach to just shut up and die already). This film is yet another ornament to John Hurt's distinguished career, and it truly puts Jason Priestley on the map as a serious actor.
(By the way, that dirty old man became a film reviewer who is, today, very pleased with himself. He still likes Todd Mahaffey, and he is very proud of Jason Priestley.)