Absolution (1978) Blu-Ray Review: Sins of the Father

Award-winning playwright and screenwriter Anthony Shaffer had a gift for constructing elaborate traps. In The Wicker Man, he lured a devout policeman to his doom. In Sleuth, he staged a deadly game of one-upmanship between two brilliant but overconfident men. Absolution might be his cruelest trap of all: a Catholic priest bound by holy vows that become the very instrument of his destruction.

Father Goddard (Richard Burton, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?) teaches at an all-boys boarding school in rural England. He runs his classroom with iron discipline and makes no secret of his favorites. Benjamin Stanfield (Dominic Guard, Picnic at Hanging Rock) enjoys Goddard’s approval. Arthur Dyson (Dai Bradley, Kes) does not. When a wandering musician named Blakey (Billy Connolly, Quartet, making his screen debut) camps near the school grounds, Stanfield befriends him despite Goddard’s explicit prohibition. What begins as teenage rebellion evolves into something far more sinister.

Shaffer builds his nightmare around Catholic confession. Early in the film, Goddard explains to his students that priests cannot break the seal of the confessional under any circumstances—not even murder. That doctrine becomes a weapon turned against him. Stanfield begins confessing increasingly disturbing acts, and Goddard cannot verify, report, or act on anything he hears. The psychological screws tighten with each visit to the confessional booth.

Burton was in rough shape during this period of his career. The drinking had taken its toll. Yet that weathered quality serves Goddard perfectly. This is a man clinging to authority and faith while both slip through his fingers. When the final act arrives, Burton meets it with the full force of his theatrical training. Bradley matches him beat for beat in their climactic confrontation—remarkable given the gap in experience between them. Guard plays Stanfield with unsettling charm, never tipping his hand too early.

Connolly brings warmth to his brief role, a welcome contrast to the film’s suffocating atmosphere. Director Anthony Page (who would next direct a maligned but very fun remake of The Lady Vanishes) stages everything competently without flourish. Cinematographer John Coquillon, who shot Straw Dogs and Cross of Iron for Sam Peckinpah and horror classic The Changeling, brings autumnal gloom to the English locations. The muted palette makes the school feel like a place where sunlight fears to linger.

Absolution suffered a disastrous release history. Disavowed by its writer who hated the director and whispered about on both sides of the Atlantic due to Burton’s continued battle with the bottle, the film struggled to find a release date. Completed in 1978, it didn’t reach UK cinemas until 1981 and arrived in America in 1988…four years after Burton had died of a cerebral hemorrhage. The film never found its audience theatrically but developed a following through television broadcasts and the rise in popularity of VHS.

88 Films presents both the theatrical cut and a 2018 director’s cut. However, stick with the theatrical version because the director’s cut unwisely trims scenes that strengthen the narrative. The 2K restoration delivers solid detail throughout to a film that I’m sure many never thought would get any kind of restoration. Two commentary tracks offer different perspectives: Kim Newman and Sean Hogan provide one, Kevin Lyons another. Interviews with Page and Guard add production context. Sean Longmore‘s new cover art deserves special mention as one of the nicest 88 Films has commissioned lately.

For those who missed the earlier Indicator release, this package finally brings a neglected British thriller into proper focus.  It’s worth investigating, if only for curiosity over Burton’s performance.