Review - The Phantom of the Open is named after a book which was named after a newspaper headline which was named after a nickname for an English crane operator and fabulist called Maurice Flitcroft.
Flitcroft still holds the record for the worst round ever shot at the British Open – 121 in the 1976 qualifying rounds.
He was a peculiarly British character and The Phantom of the Open is a very British film, one that owes more to the broad 1970s television spinoff films like Are You Being Served? or On the Buses than the slightly grittier The Full Monty.
There are some dodgy ‘70s wigs and facial hair on offer, some wide ties and lapels, you know the sort of thing, but it doesn’t seem to build its world with much care and attention. It’s all a bit of a joke – and so is poor Maurice.
Flitcroft is played by Academy Award winner Mark Rylance, one of the finest British actors ever to tread the boards but since that Oscar – for Bridge of Spies back in 2015 – I’ve found his screen performances to be somewhat idiosyncratic, as if he’s bored with naturalism and wants to play with it a bit. But that play can often come at the expense of the ensemble, or the whole.
In Ready Player One and Don’t Look Up, he played similar tech entrepreneurs, people who are not really of this world, they see beyond it into a world only they can imagine. I’m sure there is truth in characterisations like that – but that sense of a character not really being present in his scenes or even his own life to any great extent can make that character pretty frustrating to watch.
And it’s that kind of performance that Rylance brings to Flitcroft. He’s playing him as a dreamer with an accent and moustache, a walking apology for his distractions and his obsessions, but with not much else going on to build a film on.
At the end, as is so often the case these days, the filmmakers present some real-life footage of the man so we can compare and it’s a puzzling choice. Because the Flitcroft in the grainy video is nothing like the version that Rylance produces. And then you see why Rylance has made those choices, because 90 minutes impersonating that dreariness wouldn’t sell a ticket but replacing it with two or three character traits doesn’t really help.
Maybe Flitcroft did a couple of eccentric things once and then found he had to keep going but that alone doesn’t make him interesting.
Also, and I’m sorry to aficionados out there, but golf isn’t very cinematic. One player against a ball simply doesn’t generate the tension that a great sports film can. At least, it doesn’t here.
To ratchet up the tension we have to have Rhys Ifans as the secretary of the Royal and Ancient pretend to have steam coming out of his ears. It is one of the more thankless roles I have witnessed in recent British cinema.
Saving grace is Sally Hawkins as the saintly Jean Flitcroft, the rock the whole adventure is built on. Often an annoyingly fussy actor but when confronted by Rylance’s teeth and wig she sensibly dials it all back and tries to find the heart of the film – and for the most part she succeeds.
The Phantom of the Open is rated M for offensive language and you can find it at select cinemas across the country.
