|
The Golden
Bowl
USA/France/UK, 2000.
Directed by James Ivory, scenario by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala adapted
from a novel by Henry James. Starring Uma Thurman, Kate Beckinsale,
Jeremy Northam, Nick Nolte and Anjelica Houston.
In English, 130 minutes, rated R. Lions Gate Films.
In Hollywood's
million-dollar, action flick dominated ball court, some moviegoers
still count on certain filmmakers for slower-paced, more intellectual
movies. Inspired by English and American literature, Merchant
and Ivory have been reviving a more genteel way of life on the
silver screen for the last 20 years. With its stunning costumes,
breathtaking outdoor settings and character-driven scenario, The
Golden Bowl contains all the elements of the trademark Merchant-Ivory
period-piece style. Yet after seeing the team's latest production,
an adaptation of Henry James' "The Golden Bowl", one
can only wonder if the celebrated duo has become yet another victim
of the mainstream's pressure. The movie is contrived at times,
out of character at others, and ultimately feels like a stylistic
exercise, making the two-plus hours of screen time drag on.
In "The
Golden Bowl", Henry James sets up an elaborate stage of betrayal
and deceit. Charlotte (Uma Thurman) loves Amerigo (Jeremy Northam),
a destitute Italian prince. As they are both poor and have no
prospects together, Amerigo ends their affair and gets engaged
to a rich American girl instead. To complicate matters, the heiress,
Maggie (played by Kate Beckinsale), also happens to be Charlotte's
best friend. Maggie is blissfully ignorant of her friend's past
affair with her soon-to-be husband and does not notice Charlotte's
scheming either, while Charlotte is willing to go to any extent
to get her lover back, even marrying Maggie's father, Adam Verver
(a wonderful Nick Nolte), to be closer to her loved one.
It is the
classical love triangle with a typically Jamesian twist. In other
words, the convoluted scenario isn't groundbreaking. Kubrick's
Lolita toys with the same concept: the debasement of a
man marrying a woman he dislikes just to be closer to her thirteen
year-old daughter, the true object of his desire. But in The
Golden Bowl as in all of James' work, the characters' societal
positions and the complex, psychological behaviors that these
entail add unexpected turns to all too familiar stories. The film
doesn't focus on Charlotte's marriage as much as it does on her
pursuit of Amerigo and the slow erosion of her dignity and sense
of loyalty as her desperation increases. The prince finally falls
pray to his former mistress, but more because of his loneliness
than as the result of Charlotte's constant nagging and scheming.
His wife's devotion to her beloved father, as well as her blindness
to Charlotte's intrigues, alienate Amerigo in the long run.
Yet the unfolding
of these subtle twists of fate simply feels awkward at times in
Merchant-Ivory's adaptation. Neither director nor actors seem
convinced that the story is good enough to sustain the audience's
interest. Except for Nick Nolte's striking, effortless performance,
the cast of The Golden Bowl half-heartedly drags their
feet through most of the movie. Only Uma Thurman puts much enthusiasm
in her part, so much that she bounces through the slow-paced staging,
unable to tone down her modern mannerisms and gait. The adaptation
feels heavy-handed at times, which is unexpected coming from Ivory
and his long time associate, screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala.
The opening scene for example, that recreates the killing of Amerigo's
adulterous ancestors, and the recurrence of parts of this event
throughout The Golden Bowl are superfluous and cumbersome.
Other scenes weigh the movie down, hammering in points that have
already been made. The documentary episodes flashing by clash
with the overall style while abrupt cuts, seemingly intended to
bring excitement to the movie, alter its pace and make the character
development and unfolding of events look outdated and somewhat
absurd.
In a character-driven
film, the atmosphere is crucial and action should take the second
place. The over-dramatization in The Golden Bowl makes
the movie depart from this in what seems to be an attempt to follow
current moviemaking trends. However, the result of this halfway
compromise between Merchant-Ivory's trademark filmmaking style
and a more trendy cinematographic approach only burdens the movie
and draws it out. Let's just hope that Merchant and Ivory will
return to their own distinctive style so we can enjoy their depictions
of old-fashioned, improbable yesterdays a little longer.
© Briana
Berg, 2001
|
|