Just about every advertisement for director Billy Condon's new film, a biography of controversial Indiana University biologist Alfred C. Kinsey, bears the same, simple mantra: "Let's talk about sex." Since any mention of sexuality today is greeted either with puritanical reproach or voyeuristic enthusiasm, such an overt suggestion would seem an invitation to chaos. But Kinsey is nothing more and nothing less than what its driving motto implies--an honest, unashamed discourse on human sexuality. For once, the movie industry has delivered a piece that not only avoids the extremes of smut and chastity, but tackles the nature of sexual activity with academic impartiality.
Yet Kinsey is more than a tempered analysis of intercourse. In its own right, it is an elegant film, a rare near-nonfiction piece that both exalts and criticizes its subject. There is plenty of information, complemented by a few likely myths, about the life of Alfred Kinsey (played by Liam Neeson) in Condon's new release. In any case, Kinsey portrays a sharp conflict between science and convention, physical love and cultural norms, that is worthy of attention roughly half a century after its subject's death.
The mind behind two revolutionary scientific volumes, Alfred C. Kinsey, whose initial studies concerned the gall wasp, was the product of a strict, stifling upbringing. Fortunately, Condon's film dwells on these minor, though valuable notes. As Kinsey depicts it, Kinsey's aversion to absolute abstinence was a mode of rebellion against his uptight father (John Lithgow), a professor and minister who flouted his family and railed against modern technology. However, before he turned to sex research, Kinsey met his future wife, Clara McMillen (Laura Linney), a promising biology student herself.
In all honesty, Liam Neeson was an unlikely choice for playing Kinsey, a nerdy bisexual in real life. It seems that neither Mr. Neeson's performance nor Mr. Condon's script capture all of the professor's eccentricities. Aside from that, the acting in Kinsey is as good as it gets. Kinsey becomes, in Mr. Neeson's hands, a man ferociously dedicated to his work, but not without a boyish, occasionally oblivious sensitivity. Though a clear departure from the courageous lothario he played in Schindler's List, Neeson's performance works beautifully.
Later, Prok (as Kinsey was called by his students) initiated a course on sexuality at the University of Indiana. Determined to improve scientific knowledge of this formerly taboo area, the entomologist turned anthropologist set out to collect data on intercourse and sex patterns. With a team of assistants, Kinsey conducted thousands of interviews regarding sexual activity. His later life, captured believably by Mr. Condon, was a roller coaster ride between professional acclaim and public outrage, culminating in an early death.
While films like A Beautiful Mind and Ray dwell mostly on the emotional impact of genius, Kinsey lends equal weight to Prok's work and personal life. However, Kinsey's closest relationships were just as turbulent as his career. On one hand, Neeson's Kinsey finds a true companion in Linney's Clara, well played with complementary doses of intimacy and resolve. On the other, he is a man whose belief in science leads him to sexual experimentation, including an affair with his personal assistant, Clyde Martin (Peter Sarsgaard).
Yet the uninhibited rigor that nearly destroys Kinsey is never remedied. Even when Clyde, who in all the earlier scenes is a model of nuanced, understated drama, tearfully questions Kinsey's sexual morality near the end, Neeson's character remains the man he has always been--dogged, curious and pragmatic. Like its protagonist, Kinsey views sex more as a product of human expression than anything else. Whenever Condon feels headed towards a platonic insight, his film turns abruptly back to carnal knowledge in its most scientific manifestation.
It is easy to accuse Mr. Condon of heaping greatness on a subject whose ideas are still reviled by certain sectors of the public. While Kinsey does view reserved morality as ultimately stifling, it is not a promotion of sex, but a statement of ambition. His life's work greeted with disgust, Mr. Neeson's Kinsey is angered by an America that rejects the knowledge he wants to spread. Whatever his faults, Kinsey was a man who could handle the most shocking truths.
When asked by a reporter if there are plans to make a film based on one of his books, Neeson's Kinsey completely disregards the idea. Indeed, this is one of the movie's most flagrant ironies, considering that Mr. Condon has made both a coherent film and an excellent intellectual statement out of Alfred Kinsey's life. As we watch Kinsey, we are drawn into a world where the power of inquiry and the value of human connection become evident in the most subtle, delicate ways.
