Mr. Turner

Perhaps the trickiest element in a biopic about an artist is trying to capture the spirit of the subject and his work on screen. In the case of British painter J.M.W. Turner, the challenge is compounded by the abundant eccentricities both in the man and his art.

So credit veteran filmmaker Mike Leigh and actor Timothy Spall for capturing that essence in all its complexity in Mr. Turner, a handsomely mounted period piece with plenty of quirky touches.

The low-key film begins with Turner as an irascible middle-aged regular on the British art scene in the early 18th century, although his perpetual scowl and social awkwardness have rendered him a lonely bachelor whose primary relationships are with his father (Paul Jesson) and his housekeeper (Dorothy Atkinson).

He craves the praise that his landscape paintings garner from the public, refusing private purchases of his work in favor of display in the esteemed National Gallery. Eventually, he moves in with a kind widow (Marion Bailey) in Chelsea as his health begins to fade.

The dialogue is almost indecipherable at times because of Turner’s speech patterns, which include a constant array of sighs and grunts that make him off-putting at first.

Spall brings plenty of depth to his committed portrayal of the enigmatic and condescending Turner, a man whose art provide solitude and an escape from a troubled personal life. Still, public perception of his work is more valuable to him than any behind-the-scenes turmoil.

Leigh (Secrets and Lies), meanwhile, whose screenplays are usually heavy on improvisation at the character development level, manages to dig beneath Turner’s gruff exterior and shows an obvious appreciation for his subject.

Yet he’s not interested in a glossy hagiography. His boorish behavior in London’s Royal Academy is on full display, and a sequence in which he mourns his father (who was his greatest supporter) is both touching and unsettling.

Mr. Turner is an incisive examination of the fickle nature of art tastes and trends. It’s also the latest intimate and insightful peek into the artistic process for Leigh, whose deliberately paced approach favors long takes and atmospheric lighting courtesy of Dick Pope, his longtime cinematographer.

Never thrilling but always intriguing, the film is a highly personal portrait of an artist that itself becomes a work of art worthy of preservation.

Rated R, 149 minutes.