The portrayal of Turner by Timothy Spall is nothing short of a masterpiece. It deals with the incredibly complex and famous British painter, Joseph Turner, who is full of faults and haunted by personal demons: a true outsider who is allowed access into the upper class due to his brilliance as a landscape painter. If you want to watch a movie about a real human and the real people around him, see the movie now. Spall is superb.

Exactly what the scriptwriters and director thought they were producing is beyond me. As others have so rightly said this is a series of disjointed scenes, many that have no end or point. The Cinematography is superb and the acting is of a high standard but all of this is wasted on this pointless film. You learn little if anything about Turner. He comes across as an odd man possessed by one type of painting who is also a bit of a pervert. His relationship with his maid and one scene with a prostitute show him to be very odd indeed. But that is all we ever learn about the man. There is no story and although I watched this to the end, in the vain hope something would start to make sense, which it didn't, I was left wondering why this got so much critical acclaim. I can only assume that critics are not like the rest of us and like to see things that are not there to make themselves seem better than the rest of us.

Mike Leigh is arguably one of Britain's foremost humanist filmmakers to come out of the last quarter century. In a career percolating since the seventies, Leigh has done everything from fanciful period dramas to low-key domestic dramedy; all the while focusing mightily on the subtle character arcs that we're meant to see ourselves in. Sometimes it works, other times his serenity through the mundane can seem tedious. Unfortunately tedious is exactly how I would describe Mr. Turner.Mr. Turner concerns the last years of J.M.W. Turner (Spall) an English Romanticist painter whose life was filled with controversy and whose gallery was always full of momentous landscapes. He never married although he refused paternity to his two daughters birthed by Sarah Danby (Sheen). He carries on affairs with, among others, Hannah (Atkinson) his housekeeper and a landlady named Sophia Booh (Bailey). Despite his lechery, Turner was known as a "painter of light" and his techniques were shadowed and improved upon by a burgeoning group of European painters known as the Impressionists.Within the plot there is a lot to consider about Turner the man. He carries himself like a beast of burden yet he's readily accepted by the high society including the Royal Academy of Arts where he teaches. He's a lout to his mistress, yet he openly entertains and mentors childhood friend Mary Somerville (Manville) who broke British social norms by studying the sciences. He's dismissive of his daughters and their mother yet he honors and respects his father (Jesson). He was antagonistic to his colleagues yet fond of his friends.What we have in Mr. Turner is an exploration of humanity through a film that at once seems to be inspired by some of Turner's paintings. Through its singular protagonist it ambles around the frames of Turner's life, discovering every wort, every wrinkle, every discolored hair follicle; trying incredibly hard to prod meaning from the old curmudgeon.Yet while Leigh's mis en scene is inspirational and gorgeous, and while his themes are surmountable; I am sorry to say that Mr. Turner suffers mightily under the pressure of it's own stodginess. The film's textures can't help but feel bereft from life; it's filigree listless under the pageantry that defines Victorian era films. There is a reason why Turner's late work is viewed by art historians as proto-impressionistic; the feelings evoked from his "Helvoetsluys, Ships Going Out to Sea" are anarchistic, "Burning of the Houses of Parliament" antagonistic; yet with Mr. Turner we get the sense that the filmmaker and the subject are looking past each other. Perhaps instead of meticulously mimicking Turner's visuals, Leigh and cinematographer Dick Pope could have done well to meticulously mimic his ardor and passion.That said the film is very beautiful. Its depictions of sweeping vistas and sea drenched coastal villages lends the movie to be a little more than just your average costume drama like The Danish Girl (2015). Timothy Spall to his credit mimics Charles Laughton's Rembrandt (1932) only with the timber of a soggy old sea goat. Still even at his most crass, Spall's Turner still shines as an example of a character fully realized and sympathetic.There are worse ways to spend two and a half hours though there are certainly better ones as well. Mr. Turner is a gorgeous film that unfortunately rings hallow. No one is to blame for it. Mike Leigh is still a master of humanism and Timothy Spall still one of the most underrated character actors to ever exist. J.M.W. Turner is still a master of landscapes and his place in history is still undisputed. The globe rotates, the seas ebb and the world will undoubtedly forget Mr. Turner.

This biopic of 19th century painter J. M. W. Turner takes an episodic approach to its subject. We meet Turner late in life, when he is successful, financially secure, happily living with his father and respected by his peers. The film refuses to define an essential character trait, or set up any kind of redemptive arc. This eschewing of tired Hollywood script tropes is admirable in itself, except that it offers up very little to replace it. Turner is contradictory in his affections; he provides generous financial support to a fellow artist and gives sage advice freely. And yet he fails to acknowledge his own daughters, declaring himself childless even in a conversation on the trials of burying one's own offspring. He seems to come alive most with his common law wife, while treating his devoted housekeeper abominably. No underlying cause for such behaviour is presented, we are merely privy to these facts as the film ponderously ticks off a check-box of known character traits. The massive redeeming feature for this film is Dick Pope's cinematography, rightfully celebrated in numerous reviews. Turner's art was cinematic before the adjective existed, and Pope exploits that to its full extent, so that the frame itself at various moments takes on a Turneresque hew. The film favours image over plot, and poetic moments over narrative cohesion, which will delight a certain niche audience. Leigh queasily refers to himself in the third person on the DVD extras, saying Turner was a "perfect subject for a Mike Leigh film." That apparently means coaxing a slightly vaudeville performance from Spall, which along with the lack of narrative drive, renders this over-long film rather boring. Lots for budding cinematographers to enjoy, but precious little for the rest of us.