Plot Details: This opinion reveals major details about the movie's plot.
I have something of a love-hate relationship with this film. There is so much to admire about it, but the film's flaws are highly irritating. This is one of those movies that is mediocre not by being uniformly mediocre, but by combining a lot of five-star qualities with too many one, two, or three-star elements. It's upsetting, in a way, to observe so much potential dissipated by a few bad decisions. The source story is itself a marvel of English literature (though difficult to adapt to film). The period settings and costumes are gorgeous and there are a whole string of superlative performances. The film's problems are in mainly three domains: decisions made by director Jane Campion and scriptwriter Laura Jones in relation to the screenplay; some of the directorial decisions made by Campion; and one tremendous casting gaffe that grossly distorts the essential nature of the story.
Historical Background: After her first three films, Jane Campion had established herself as a talented young director with an innovative visual style, a penchant for feminist themes, and a distinctly feminine perspective to enliven a male-dominated industry. She had established an international following with successes at Cannes and other film festivals throughout the world. With her fourth film, Campion turned to more traditional source material, the Henry James classic The Portrait of a Lady and then applied a feminist lens to the filming of the story. The result was a movie that disappointed both her fans and the general run of critics.
Campion, who was born in 1955 in Wellington, New Zealand, graduated from the Australian Film, Television, and Radio School. Her debut film, Sweetie (1989), a rather daring examination of a dysfunctional family, earned Campion immediate attention. Campion's second film, An Angel at My Table (1990), was an ambitious adaptation of the autobiography of Janet Frame. Then, Campion had her greatest success with The Piano (1993), which shared the Golden Palm at Cannes. Since that success, Campion has worked on a steady schedule, directing The Portrait of a Lady (1996), starring Nicole Kidman, Holy Smoke (1999), with Kate Winslet, and In the Cut (2003), starring Meg Ryan.
The Story: Isabel Archer (Nicole Kidman), a spirited, young American woman, has resided in England since the death of her parents, with her aunt and uncle, the Touchetts (Shelley Winters and John Gielgud). Mr. Touchett is a wealthy banker and his only son, Ralph (Martin Donovan), is a sickly man of about thirty, slowly dying of consumption (the former name for pulmonary tuberculosis). Ralph dearly loves his young cousin, so much, in fact, that he has no wish to saddle her with an invalid such as himself. His foremost joy, in life, is observing Isabel's gradual coming-of-age and maturation into a full-blown woman.
Isabel quite naturally excites that kind of admiring interest with a combination of sparkling intellect and beauty. She has more suitors than she would wish. As the film opens, Isabel is desperately fending off the earnest and sincere marriage proposal of the well-heeled Lord Warburton (Richard E. Grant), who declares that he doesn't "go off" easily, but when he does, it's for life. He has a seat in Parliament and an even half-dozen castles to choose among, in which Isabel could reside. He assures her that she might pick any one of them. He urges, if it's the moat (at one) that troubles her, she could pick another. Isabel reassures him, saying, "I adore a moat," but she just isn't ready for marriage. There's a whole big world out there to be experienced, and Isabel is full to the brim with youthful curiosity. "I will begin," she says, "by getting a general impression of life." Ralph, even more her admirer, now, declares, "I shall have the thrill of seeing what a young lady does who won't marry Lord Warburton." That, of course, is the same thrill made available by this story for every reader or viewer. "The world interests you," Ralph adds, "It's so fine!"
Isabel begins her travels with a short excursion to Liverpool. Her aunt insists that she not travel about unescorted (it's not proper!), so Isabel links up with a compatriot and old friend, Henrietta Stackpole (Mary-Louise Parker). Henrietta is devoted to Isabel but a bit of a busybody. Her worst fear is that Henrietta might marry a European. Henrietta takes it upon herself to inform Isabel's American suitor, Caspar Goodwood (Viggo Mortensen), of her whereabouts. Caspar is madly in love with Isabel and would even wait for her, for a year or two, if only he could get a commitment from her for the future. He can't, however. Isabel prizes her freedom and independence. She assures him, however, that she has no intention of marrying soon. She may never marry. He has to settle for a demure kiss of her hand, before returning to America. For her part, Isabel is content to satisfy her romantic inclinations, for the moment, in fantasies involving her three lovelorn admirers, Lord Warburton, Caspar, and Ralph.
Returning to the Touchett residence, Isabel's future is soon materially altered by two crucial developments. The first is like a chapter out of the old television series, "The Millionaire." Mr. Touchett is sickly and approaching death. Ralph asks his father to leave part of his fortune, £70,000, to Isabel. Ralph will still have more than enough for his own short life and there are no other heirs. It is a request that is simultaneously generous and selfish on Ralph's part. He has nothing better to do with his life than to observe how his beloved cousin develops, having means that can support her youthful imagination.
The other key development is a chance meeting, at the Touchett's home, between Isabel and an old acquaintance of Ralph, Madame Serena Merle (Barbara Hershey). She is a woman of the world, who plays Schubert on the piano with a sensitivity that excites Isabel's envy. Serena insinuates herself into Isabel's web of trust, pretending to have Isabel's best interests at heart. In reality, Serena is a dangerous schemer who uses people without conscience. "I don't pretend to know what people are meant for," she says, slyly, to a conspirator, "I only know what I can do with them." Serena has learned about Isabel's fortune and her intent is to deliver Isabel into the clutches of the pretentious dilettante, Gilbert Osmond (John Malkovich). Why Serena is in league with Osmond is not revealed until near the end of the story, so it won't be revealed here.
Osmond lives in Florence and Isabel will be traveling to Florence. Through Serena's interventions, Isabel encounters Osmond in Florence and he rather easily seduces her, playing on her naivety and innocent belief in the sincerity of people. Osmond is an artist and a man of exquisite good taste, but is also lazy, cynical, manipulative, and an old-fashioned Chauvinist of the most egregious kind. During their courtship, Osmond turns on the charm, maneuvers with his clever intelligence, and plays the aesthete, while Isabel's friends fret that she's perfectly capable of falling in love with the beauty of his opinions and his signature on a Michelangelo. Though Isabel's entrapment is delayed by a whirlwind tour of the world (depicted in a brief surreal montage), she soon returns to the spider's lair in Florence and marries Osmond. The disappointed Ralph can only moan, "You're the last person I expected to get caught." Isabel replies that Osmond is "the lightest, gentlest, and kindest spirit," but she will soon learn otherwise.
Osmond, who was a widower from a brief first marriage, has a daughter named Pansy (Valentina Cervi), who has been raised in a convent "in the old way," as Osmond puts it. He has taught Pansy that her foremost responsibility in life is never to disappoint her father. In matters of romance and marriage, she is to do whatever her father prefers. Pansy has acquired an utterly devoted suitor, Edward Rosier (Christian Bale), but he is not wealthy enough or situated well enough for Osmond's purposes. Instead, Osmond settles on Lord Warburton as a suitable prospect for his daughter. Warburton is still hopelessly in love with Isabel, so much so that he would marry Pansy merely to please Isabel and gain some association with Isabel. Neither Isabel nor Warburton himself understands Warburton's motivations, but others do. Isabel is brought up to speed by this marvelous conversation with Ralph:
Isabel: It's about Lord Warburton. Is he really in love?
Ralph: Yes, I think very much. I can make that out.
Isabel: Oh!
Ralph: You seem disappointed!
Isabel: No, no, only mistaken. I thought I'd been convinced he doesn't really care for Pansy.
Ralph: Oh, Pansy, No!
Isabel: You said just now that he did.
Ralph: That he cared for you.
Isabel: That is nonsense, you know!
Ralph: To me he's denied it.
The on-again, off-again courtship between Lord Warburton and Pansy brings to a head the marital problems between Osmond and Isabel. Osmond insists, "You must have a great deal of influence with him. I'm sure the moment your really wish it, you can bring him to the point." He's right that Isabel could do that, but she has too much integrity to do so.
Ultimately, Isabel does break free of her terrible marriage to Osmond, in which she is subject to constant psychological abuse and occasional physical abuse. It takes the combination of a plot revelation, provided by Osmond's sister, the flaky Countess Gemini (Shelley Duvall), and Ralph's deteriorating condition back in England, to break Isabel free from her bondage. In England, Isabel has to bid farewell to her one most devoted, if platonic, lover, Ralph, but finds another still waiting in the wings. The film's final few frames, with a pale Isabel framed against a wintry door that she has chosen not to pass through, are exquisite and the very best of the entire movie.
Themes: The novel's basic theme is the sheer wondrousness of a young woman of passion and intelligence stepping out to find herself in the world and finding the courage to deal with her own missteps, to triumph in the end. The movie's theme is quite different: that women are bitterly abused by marriages to Chauvinistic men and by the social restrictions that make escape from such marriages patently difficult. My personal opinion (the credibility of which is compromised, in this instance, by my being male) is that the heroic Isabel of Henry James's novel is a worthier feminist character than is the foolish and victimized Isabel of Campion's adaptation. Figure that! One is a form of feminism based on positive portrayal of women as intelligent, vibrant, and competent; the other a negativistic form depicting women as helpless victims of Chauvinists and their corrupt systems. I cringe at the very thought of what Campion et al. might have done with Elizabeth Bennet of Pride and Prejudice.
Production Values: The script's greatest strength is its arch dialog, for which we have mostly James to thank. The film's biggest problem is it's treatment of the character Osmond, through the combination of poor script choices and a dismal performance by John Malkovich. Osmond is presented as such an obvious swindler and deceiver, during the courtship, and tyrant, during the marriage, that one can only conclude that Isabel is either stupid, cowardly, or masochistic, or some combination of those traits. That, in turn, undercuts the entire premise of Isabel being such a magnificent and fine specimen of womankind that everyone adores her, including Ralph, Warburton, Goodwood, and, even, Henrietta Stackpole. By making Osmond too obviously bad, Campion has made Isabel too obviously weak. Malkovich portrays Osmond as a sleazy lizard that no person of courage and intelligence would abide. There needs to be enough ambiguity in the character to give us reason to forgive Isabel for being duped by him.
Another script problem is that the story is hard to follow, at least on a single viewing. I've seen this film four times over the course of about four years. Having gained familiarity with the story, I no longer find it difficult to follow, but it was very confusing during the first viewing. The transitions from scene to scene are unclear. Sometimes, we don't even know where in the world the story is transpiring: Florence, Rome, England? We're not even given any clear basis as to why Isabel marries Osmond.
I'm not a "purist" in relation to adaptations of great classics. I don't object to a few changes provided that the insertions, deletions, or alterations add to the quality of the cinematic presentation. James's novel was such a sprawling story that elisions of one kind or another are absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, most of Campion's cutesy additions are detractions. There's an opening vocal background featuring modern girls (or young women) talking intimately about kissing. The intent, I suppose, is to provide a modern context to the story that follows, but it requires no such contextualization, the primary theme being inherently timeless. Campion abbreviates the pre-marriage portion of the novel and gives us little of Isabel's sparkling intelligence and imagination that would build our admiration for her. The scene in which Osmond first declares his love, in a catacomb-like tunnel, is made far too artsy with spinning parasols, as though Isabel were being hypnotized. Later, Campion uses a ridiculous surreal montage to abridge a long part of the novel in which Isabel gains experience of the world. On the other hand, the abusive marriage relationship, by which Isabel's good qualities are beaten into retreat, is dwelt upon at length.
I'm not sure that other viewers of this film experience it in the same way that I do, but, for me, Ralph Touchett is the character that represents myself. I have the same fascination with Isabel that he has. I approach the film wanting to admire Isabel, in all her facets, and watch her progress through life. I have great respect and admiration for Nicole Kidman, as an actress, so it's no stretch at all for me to see her in the role of Isabel. I think that Kidman's performance in the role is exquisite, within the limitations of Campion's script choices. Unfortunately, we viewers are reduced mainly to admiring Isabel/Nicole mainly for her physical beauty and charm because we are denied evidence of her searing intelligence and spirited curiosity. I would have greatly preferred watching the progress in life of a broadly admirable woman to that of a woman of questionable judgment.
The cinematography, by Stuart Dryburgh, is excellent, except for the overly artsy black-and-white surreal Freudian dream segment in the middle, which I assume was more Campion's idea than Dryburgh's. It's always nice to see Kidman partly exposed, but less so in such a ridiculous context. Dryburgh gives us lots of great close-ups of Kidman's face, both in joy and in sorrow, consistent with the voyeuristic nature of the story. The costumes and sets are magnificent.
The performances in this film, outside of that by Malkovich, are generally outstanding. Nicole Kidman pushed very hard for this role. "She [Campion] cast me and then said I don't think you can do it," Kidman later explained. "I said, you've got to give me a chance to audition. You can't just take it away from me." Even after the audition, Campion was prepared to jettison Kidman, but Kidman kept insisting. In my opinion, Kidman is brilliant in the role, within the limitations imposed by the bad script choices. It is Kidman who salvages whatever degree of admiration we retain for Isabel, in this film, despite the script casting her mostly as victim. Kidman's other work includes Nightmaster (1987), Dead Calm (1989), Flirting (1991), Batman Forever (1995), To Die For (1995), Practical Magic (1998), Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Moulin Rouge (2001), The Others (2001), Birthday Girl (2002), The Hours (2002), The Human Stain (2003), and Cold Mountain (2004).
Barbara Hershey is stellar as the duplicitous Serena Merle. I've often admired Hershey's work, in such films as The Natural (1984), Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), and Falling Down (1993). Martin Donovan was excellent in the role of Ralph Touchett. Mary-Louise Parker was a tad grating as Henrietta Stackpole, but Shelley Winters and John Gielgud were superb as the elder Touchetts. I liked Richard E. Grant as Lord Warburton but thought Viggo Mortensen too cookie-cutterish as the American suitor. Shelley Duvall was comically entertaining as Countess Gemini. Malkovich, as stated earlier, was wretched as Osmond, though he may have been hamstrung by Campion's conception for the film.
Bottom-Line: I'm giving this film four-stars, recognizing that it will be a higher rating than any other reviewer has given it, thus far, here at Epinions. I don't much disagree with the other reviewers. I'd give it 3.5 stars if I could, but I'm rounding up specifically because, like Ralph Touchett, I get a real kick out of watching Isabel/Nicole blossoming. It's worth putting up with bad script choices and Malkovich's lame performance for the joys of the fine story, mostly strong performances, great costumes and sets, and, most of all, Kidman as Isabel.
Recommended:
Yes
Video Occasion: Good for a Rainy Day Suitability For Children: Suitable for Children Age 13 and Older
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