Elsinore - London Film Festival review: Andrew Scott scales Oscar-worthy heights

The last time I cried this much in a cinema was three years ago. That film was Andrew Haigh’s All of Us Strangers, and I wept like a baby. The common thread between that film and Elsinore? The completely devastating performances of Andrew Scott.

Scott was criminally overlooked during awards season then, but dispel any scepticism about those already shooing him in for an Oscar this time round. This is a performance of a lifetime; and one the Academy voters would need a collective bout of insanity to ignore.

Andrew Scott in Elsinore

Anthony Dickenson

And for those who accused the makers of All of Us Strangers (about fictional characters) of manipulating audiences to tears, the difference here is that Simon Stone’s Elsinore follows the desperately heart-wrenching and glory-bound life of a real human being: young actor Ian Charleson.

We open on stage at London’s National Theatre in 1989. “Just say the f***ing line,” pleads a cast member to Hamlet, who has frozen speechless at the ghost of his father, before storming back to his dressing room door to reveal the name plate “Daniel Day-Lewis” (his last ever stage performance).

Rewind a month and Scott’s Charleson is doing spirit-draining video auditions for shonky action movies, swanning around gay Soho — where he has an awkward altercation about the Aids epidemic with old friend Derek Jarman (David Dawson) — and having a full-on luvvie old time with best friend, the casting director Patsy Pollock (Billie Piper).

At this point, those who come out in hives at the thought of yet another tedious movie about theatre might have cause for concern. Worry not, that cosiness vanishes as soon as Charleson discovers a large spot on his face (a sign that his HIV is developing to full-blown Aids).

Andrew Scott and Olivia Colman in Elsinore

Anthony Dickenson

Then just as Charleson is enduring another cheeky London cabbie humming the theme tune to Chariots of Fire (he loathes being recognised for his role as Eric Liddell), he hears Day-Lewis has left Hamlet. Soon after he gets the call he’d always dreamed of from director Richard Eyre (Johnny Flynn): to replace Day-Lewis as Hamlet.

He’s utterly terrified of dying (Aids was decimating the gay community) but of course he’s going to take the part, with only Eyre aware of his condition. He tells blunt-humoured stage door manager Linda (Monica Dolan) the spot is a sinus infection; “To breathe or not to breathe,” she quips (one of endless Hamlet references, all of them perfectly placed).

However, the gay costume guy can tell Charleson has scarily shrunk in size: “Do you have a good doctor?” Enter Margaret Johnson (Olivia Colman on fine form), a pioneer at extending the lives of Aids patients – and in this case keeping Charleson well enough to go on stage.

Tragedy is looming heavily, but there’s a never-ending pulse of joy between Colman and Scott. “If you are going to play this part, there’ll be no more talk of death,” she demands. “That might be tricky,” he retorts. “What about urine?" she asks him at the clinic. “I’m fine with this coffee, thanks.”

Andrew Scott and Johnny Flynn in Elsinore

Anthony Dickenson

When the trauma does come, it’s almost unbearably moving. It’s hard to watch the crushingly beautiful moment between Charleson and his dying friend Georgie (Luke Thompson) without physically quivering with emotion.

Firebrand Jarman returns with a blisteringly political call for Charleson to go public about his condition, while Peter Mullan appears briefly (for another tsunami of tears) as Charleson’s father.

Did Charleson make it through any performances of Hamlet while dancing with death? You can look it up or preferably just watch this film. As he says, “I wanted to scale the heights.” And in Elsinore, Andrew Scott reaches highs seldom witnessed on cinema screens.

Elsinore is screening at the London Film Festival, October 9 & 16, and is on general release from January 29; whatson.bfi.org.uk/lff