AllMovie

Although the protagonist of this measured, elegiac coming-of-age story is loosely based on Guy Burgess, an Englishman who spied for the Soviets and defected in the '50s, the events of the film are almost wholly fabricated. They're also deeply moving -- an alternately brutal and tender examination of class, status, disillusionment, and longing. Set to a mesmerizing, subtly mournful score by Michael Storey, Another Country deftly introduces its audience to the complicated world of British public schools, then methodically exposes the cracks in the system of oppression that holds such institutions together. Rupert Everett and Colin Firth give strong, economical performances as the homosexual dandy and the fervent Marxist who, for different reasons, chafe at the restrictions of their society. Both characters are callow and self-absorbed, but Firth's principled thinker and Everett's ambitious romantic undergo subtle transformations that make them ultimately sympathetic. The rest of the cast is uniformly fine, especially Anna Massey as Bennett's propriety-minded mother. Cary Elwes doesn't have to do much besides look exceptionally handsome and blush a lot as the dashing young man who steals Bennett's heart. But the restrained love scenes -- shot in the same wistful style as the rest -- are a lot hotter than the more explicit ones that have become the standard in years since. Julian Mitchell's witty, nostalgic script may not do enough to connect the dots between the main action and the framing device that establishes Bennett's later career as a spy. But the prologue and epilogue do set the film's melancholy tone and provide Everett with an absolute corker of a closing line. In short, the tart and thoughtful Another Country may not stick to the facts, but its sustained sense of yearning gives it a compelling emotional power.