Burton’s infernal performance finds itself stuck in a Hellish adaptation.
Doctor Faustus is a film as grand and ponderous as the man at its centre. Starring Richard Burton in the title role and co-directed by Burton and Nevill Coghill, this adaptation of Christopher Marlowe’s classic play offers a highbrow take on the legend of a man who sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge and power. It should be a heady brew of Shakespearean gravitas and supernatural horror, but instead, the film lurches between bloated vanity project and tediously theatrical melodrama, weighed down by its own sense of self-importance.
Burton is, of course, the main attraction here, and his performance is everything you’d expect from him: booming, intense, and dripping with gravitas. Faustus is a man of contradictions: brilliant but reckless, ambitious but self-destructive, and Burton embodies all of that with a sense of tragic grandeur. His Faustus is a man who burns too brightly, and you can almost feel the desperation as he spirals into his inevitable damnation. If you’re a fan of Burton’s style, there’s a lot to appreciate, but for everyone else, it may come across as a touch too overwrought, bordering on hammy.
The story follows the broad strokes of Marlowe’s play, with Faustus making his fateful pact with Mephistopheles (played here with sinister charm by Andreas Teuber) and using his newfound powers to summon spirits, indulge in debauchery, and generally revel in his godlike abilities. Of course, it’s only a matter of time before the bill comes due, and Faustus must face the consequences of his hubris.
Where the film stumbles – and stumbles hard – is in its adaptation of Marlowe’s rich, poetic language. While the dialogue remains largely intact, the film struggles to bring the material to life in a cinematic way. Much of the action feels static, as though the camera were simply pointed at a stage production. Despite the lavish sets and the occasional supernatural effects, the film never quite escapes the feeling that you’re watching a filmed play rather than a fully realised movie. The pacing is slow, with many scenes dragging on as Burton declaims monologues with theatrical fervour, and the film’s attempts at spectacle often come off as hollow.
Elizabeth Taylor, in a wordless cameo as Helen of Troy, adds a touch of glamour, but her presence feels more like a distraction than a meaningful contribution to the story. Her role as the embodiment of Faustus’s desires is clear, but the film doesn’t do much with her appearance beyond showcasing her as eye candy. It’s more of a celebrity nod than a moment of genuine narrative or emotional impact.
The film does make some attempts at visual flair. There are moments where Burton and Coghill play with lighting and set design to evoke the ethereal and the infernal, and the film’s colour palette often reflects Faustus’s descent into damnation. The imagery of angels, demons, and the damned has a certain Gothic charm, but it’s all a bit too stagey and artificial to really hit home. The film’s low – budget special effects, particularly the use of papier mâché and makeup, haven’t aged well, giving some scenes an almost unintentionally campy feel.
For all its faults, Doctor Faustus is worth watching for Burton’s performance alone. He throws himself into the role with gusto, bringing Marlowe’s tortured scholar to life with the kind of intensity that only Burton could muster. However, his performance can’t quite save the film from its own limitations. It’s a film that feels trapped between two mediums, too beholden to the stage to fully embrace its cinematic potential, and too reliant on star power to dig into the deeper themes of Marlowe’s work.
In the end, Doctor Faustus is a missed opportunity. It had the potential to be a gripping, philosophical exploration of ambition, damnation, and the human condition, but it gets bogged down by its own pomposity and a stifling theatricality. Burton fans will find something to savour in his fiery portrayal of Faustus, but as a film, it struggles to live up to the power and poetry of Marlowe’s original work.
If you’re a fan of the play or fascinated by Burton’s magnetism, Doctor Faustus might still hold some appeal, but for everyone else, it’s a slow, lumbering adaptation that never quite ignites the spark of infernal grandeur it so clearly wants to achieve.
