Firstly, I have never read the cult novel which is the basis of the film. I am reviewing the film as just that - a film - and what a film this is! A class act - and an acting class all-in-one. Albert Finney is pitch-perfect in every instance: voice and body language are used to create an absolutely authentic characterization of the Consul. (When Mr. Finney was not awarded the Oscar for his performance it was the equivalent of "Citizen Kane" not having won for Best Picture!) Apart from the acting (all of which is terrific) and the muscular, tight Guy Gallo script and the inner-demonic Alex North score and the crystal-perfect cinematography and the palpable atmosphere of each and every setting and the consummate direction by the legendary John Huston, the film is about Life and Death in the deepest meanings of those ultimately indefinable words.Jacqueline Bisset (Yvonne Firmin) was never more lovely. Sadly, her past brief adulterous fling with Geoffrey's half brother, created a lasting rift between her and Geoffrey, in spite of their enduring love and respect for each other. What a story: humanity struggling to live at the brink of its limits. I suppose it's been told a lot of times, but it's hard to imagine that it's ever been told better than this. This film really delves into Lowry's psyche, and you see the horror of being a man. It's a difficult and painful film, but the filmmakers never turn it into a cheap, sensationalistic film. It's narrated by Richard Burton, who had one of the greatest voices an actor ever possessed. Burton's narration lends a dignity to this film, and to Lowry's life. Albert Finney gives one of the most devastating portrayals of an intellectual mind pickled in alcohol ever captured on-screen. And, the legendary director, John Huston, shoves our faces in it.Overall rating: 8 out of 10.

I don't think I have ever seen a movie quite as deliberately and aggressively depressing as "Under the Volcano." In fact, I can hardly even imagine a more unpleasant film. It should be required viewing at AA meetings, as the central character could almost be said to be the tequila and mescal that Geoffrey, the nominal lead, guzzles from beginning to end. There is no plot to this movie. But there is Albert Finney, and that's just enough. It is a performance that saves "Under the Volcano" from director John Huston's almost sadistically morose tale. If there has ever been a better celluloid depiction of raging alcoholism, I haven't seen it. Finney is by turns funny, morbid, loving and spiteful. Did I mention that he drinks? Yes, he drinks. He drinks in bars, at home, at bullfights and even on carnival rides. His drinking isn't excessive, it's superhuman. Joining Finney in Mexico is his estranged wife, Yvonne, played by Jacqueline Bisset. Hers is an even more incomprehensible character: bright, beautiful and seemingly sane, Yvonne returns to Mexico in hopes of salvaging a marriage that I for one can't believe ever took place. There is no chemistry between Finney and Bisset. The other principal character, Geoffrey's half-brother Hugh, has also just arrived in Mexico from Spain, where he claims to have fought in the civil war. He and Yvonne had an affair once, but it's clear that neither intends on rekindling it for fear of sending Geoffrey even further into besotted self-pity and self-loathing. Bisset and Anthony Andrews, who plays Hugh, are fine actors, but their characters are preposterous and superfluous. Geoffrey doesn't deserve either of their affection, and the harder they try, the harder he resists.I am not a fan of the "feel good" movies of redemption that so often fill theaters these days. But "Under the Volcano" is the ultimate "feel bad" film. If not for Finney's truly amazing performance, I wouldn't recommend this film to friend or foe. But Finney takes one of the hoariest clichés in cinema and inhabits it convincingly, refreshingly, heart-breakingly. Because of him, you will not easily forget "Under the Volcano," however much you wish you could.

Don't be fooled by the dark glasses in the cover of its DVD box or its poster, this John Huston film is not about a hipster's feel-good adventure and Finney is no Hercule Poirot here (although he does reunite with his co-star Bisset from MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS 1974, 9/10), the truth is, it is adapted from Malcolm Lowry's classic but "unadaptable" novel with the same title. Set in 1939, Mexico, starts on the eve of the Day of the Dead, it focuses on a former British consul's life in one-day span, plagued by incorrigible alcoholism and blindsided by his ex-wife's return with an attempt to rekindle their new life together, he begins to realize he is a lost cause which is beyond any succor, and the finale is both stalely traumatizing and embarrassingly contrived. But one sure thing is that Finney devotes fully to the role and evokes wondrous affections from the very beginning, he is a genuine force of self-destruction, a damaged soul would be a nuisance to others, but underneath his portly and alcohol-soaked figure, he represents one state-of-mind can virtually remind us how fragile and pathologically determined one can be, even it heads to a doom. His two co-stars, Bisset and Andrews, come on board also pretty strikingly with their different nature of temperaments, Bisset is the glamorous ex-wife who balks at her further step as we do watch her hemming in the quandary, Andrews is a pleasant matador, his side of the story should have been more explored, clearly he knows what had happened between the couple, but nobody cares to shed a light here, as the horrible coda lurks, the movie only manages to exert all its energy to an irksome case of xenophobia without giving any justice to its cause and effect. So undeniably Houston's later career wanes harshly in quality, still, a notable mention should be addressed to the legendary composer Alex North (grabs his last Oscar nomination out of a total 15 nominations without a win except an Honorary award in 1986), whose eerie opening score of the variegated skull show does set a high bar to what this anti-climax film would actually offer, sad to say but this is another John Huston work I dare not to advocate (after THE MAN WHO COULD BE KING 1975, 5/10 and PRIZZI'S HONOR 1985, 5/10).

I've read the book and I've seen the film, and I can say that the reason the film is so bad is because it is based on the truly execrable novel by Malcolm Lowry. "Under the Volcano" is a novel about a drunk, written by a drunk, apparently while he was drunk. The unreadable, self-indulgent and presumptuous ineptitude of Lowry's novel was, unhappily, accurately reproduced by the film. Albert Finney can always be counted on for a terrific performance, great professional that he is; but any film based on Lowrey's pathetic, rambling narrative would have to be, as this effort was, sadly hampered by its source material.