The rich truly are different from you and me, as “The Man Who Bought Mustique” bears out. Thank God: After taking in this docu about erstwhile jet-set kingpin Colin Tennant, viewers might find themselves clutching lowly proletarian status for dear life, much as Linus does his security blanket. A memorable portrait of an unbearable personality, vid-shot feature is a natural for global tubecasters, though trimming down for hourlong slots could only make His Lordship easier to stomach.
Brit blueblood Tennant, aka Lord Glenconner, purchased the wee, idyllic Caribbean isle Mustique for a pittance in 1956. He developed it into a posh resort that was hedonistic ground zero for such ’60s and ’70s A-listers as Mick and Bianca Jagger and David Bowie, as well as fellow titled aristocrats.
More big spender than savvy businessman, however, Lord G. lost fiscal control of the island (regrettably, a drama not detailed here) just as the disco era ended. He now lives in much humbler circumstances on nearby St. Lucia, spewing no end of invective at the “jealous, smug, small-minded people” who currently inhabit his lost sovereign paradise.
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Descending upon Mustique to terrorize its nouveau riche residents (whose clenched-teeth comments are so tactfully polite you can practically hear their suppressed screams), Tennant shows the camera crew around while relentlessly stage-managing its every move. His hissy fits spare no one (long-suffering spouse Lady Anne aside), from the native workers to his onetime manager.
Climax is an elaborate al fresco lunch with old friend Princess Margaret. He fawns over the once-swinging, now-frail royal, yet embarrasses them both by directing attention to an “exotic” coitus-depicting tapestry specially hung for her perusal. “She’s an example to everyone of how you can be well brought up,” he intones as she flees.
There’s considerable entertainment value in watching this fallen-and-hellishly-resentful-about-it fop throw tantrums hither and yon. Still, filmmakers’ preservation of every last insufferable remark and childish action seems a tad gloating after a while. Docu gets its revenge, and then some, with rather too obvious pleasure.
Tech aspects are pro — and lensing does make Mustique look heavenly — though there’s no mistaking the TV intent.
