Mad About the Boy: The Noël Coward Story
Written and Directed by Barnaby Thompson
Narrated by Alan Cumming and Rupert Everett
Runtime: 95 minutes
In select theaters and available to rent on October 11

by Carmen Paddock, Staff Writer

Noël Coward is a one-man institution of the British stage and screen. As composer, director, actor, playwright, and singer–not to mention a witty and chic presence in interviews and artistic society–his prolific and prodigious journey through British and American stage and screen left an indelible mark on show business. The highs and lows of his life and output are chronicled in Mad About the Boy: The Noël Coward Story, a whistlestop documentary directed and written by Barnaby Thompson. The narration by Alan Cumming and Coward’s own words read by Rupert Everett are both immensely charming; when clips of Coward’s televised and radio interviews are played, it is clear both have studied the man’s turns of phrase and are delivering their best homage.

Mad About the Boy is not a warts-and-all portrait. This documentary is pure hagiography, spending much time on Coward’s achievements across theatre, revue, and film but giving little insight into any life outside the bright spotlights. In a mere 95 minutes, it is truly impossible to get much depth in a biographical portrait, let alone a portrait of a life so full and a talent so prodigious as Coward’s, so the focus on the good and glorious is appropriate for scope even if it does not elevate the documentary. The edges are all too smooth.

The biggest issue arises around the hardships Coward dealt with in his life, in particular, governmental and self-censorship of his writings and the need to hide his private life when homosexuality was criminalized in the UK. The film only asks surface-level questions about how these limitations affected his work and psyche. There is a funny, if telling, moment with Coward recalls having to hire an American pianist after his British collaborator was denied a US work permit due to communist ties, and the American pianists starts transposing some of Coward’s songs so that they are not all in the key of E-flat. Coward’s droll observations that his work has been Americanized sits against the backdrop of McCarthy-era censorship; many viewers may know that LGBTQ+ artists were among those most targeted by the House Un-American Activities Committee, but this political and social reality is not delved into in this documentary.

However, the love and admiration of the artists he worked with and inspired, represented in archival interviews and new testimonies, is palpable across Mad About the Boy. While the speed at which the documentary goes through his great works compresses some timelines, the reality of Coward’s ability to write the both heartbreaking Brief Encounter and the rollicking Blithe Spirit still greatly impresses. The most moving portion is possibly the film’s final section, when Coward lives to see the fruit of his labours of love in a world that is more accepting than that into which he was born.

Mad About the Boy: The Noël Coward Story is a pleasant hour and a half celebrating one of the 20th century’s most witty and versatile writers, but expect nothing deeper. For an introduction to Coward’s world and work, this is an adequate starting place, but viewers would be better served by exploring Coward’s own rich oeuvre across film, video, and audio recordings.