At the
movies Breaking the blockbuster mold
By JOSEPH CUNNEEN
Summer blockbusters are, again, not
aimed at NCR readers, except for sociologists looking for samples of
over-the-top violence and scatological humor.
But An Ideal Husband (Miramax), based on Oscar Wildes
1895 melodramatic comedy, proves there is movie relief from 95-degree heat.
Director-adapter Oliver Parker II may be trying too hard to suggest connections
between its central story and todays political machinations, but only
purists will fail to be entertained.
The rest of us will luxuriate in Wildes elegant paradoxes
and the equally elegant costumes, furnishings and handsome irresponsibility of
Victorian high society. If the plot seems rickety -- Sir Robert Chiltern
(Jeremy Northam), a promising politician, sees his career and genuinely happy
marriage to Gertrud (Cate Blanchett) threatened by disclosure of a letter he
wrote 18 years ago -- it also reminds us that insider trading is hardly a
recent invention and that Bill Clinton is not the first public official to be
threatened by tabloid scandal.
Even though Gertrud is too moralistic and adoring, Blanchett
captures some of the genuine idealism that can coexist with naiveté.
The point of view behind the many plot twists is that of Lord
Arthur Goring (Rupert Everett), an observant idler-about-town who is a stand-in
for Wilde himself. The surface cynicism he presents to the world and even his
father (who is ridiculously upset that his son hasnt married and launched
a brilliant career) obscures a sensitive man of sound judgment. Goring is Sir
Roberts best friend. Although at first introduction he may seem merely
witty and self-satisfied -- To love oneself is the beginning of a
lifelong romance -- it is he, rather than Sir Robert, who is ultimately
revealed as the ideal husband, to the delighted surprise of his
father.
The critique of society that often lies behind Wildes
epigrams is muffled; the director doesnt want anything to disturb his
attractive confection. He even makes a scene of Sir Roberts speech in
Parliament, which we are supposed to applaud because it ends by decrying
commerce without conscience. But there is a nice touch in showing
the Victorian beautiful people at the theater, where they attend the opening of
Wildes best play, The Importance of Being Earnest (also
1895).
For all its melodramatic contrivances -- to be fair, they are also
in the original -- An Ideal Husband easily surpasses recent
would-be romantic comedies in its ability to send audiences away satisfied.
Rupert Everett, after all, is quite a catch, and seeing him finally married off
may do more for family values than the last dozen sermons on the subject.
Matrimony, the movie suggests, will neither destroy Lord Gorings wit nor
crush Mabels sense of independence.
My best bet for your summer
moviegoing, however, is Autumn Tale (October Films), the last of Eric
Rohmers Tales of the Four Seasons, a delightful comedy that
should find the largest audience the French director has had in the United
States since Claires Knee. I liked it better than
Knee because it is refreshing to follow the romantic complications
of characters over 40. Loose ends of the plot are (as in life) left unresolved;
and the witty dialogue (a constant in Rohmer movies) is primarily at the
service of its autumnal theme, that rich love and companionship are possible
between men and women in middle age.
Appropriately, Autumn Tale takes place just as Magali
(Béatrice Romand), the widowed owner of a small vineyard in southern
France, is preparing to harvest her grapes. Her two children are grown, and her
insistence that her work is her only passion stems from her belief
that she is too old to be found attractive.
Best friend Isabelle (Marie Rivière), who is preparing to
marry off her own daughter, Emilia, knows Magali is wrong: The real problem is
that she is so isolated. Isabelle, though aware that her friend would abhor
such tactics, places a personal ad on Magalis behalf. The possibilities
for psychological confusion are doubled when the current girlfriend of
Magalis son, Rosine (Alexia Portal), decides to play matchmaker for
Magali and her former philosophy teacher (and lover), Etienne (Didier Sandre).
Such near-schematic plotting can approach farce, but Rohmers
characters are never one-dimensional, revealing themselves by the way they
listen as well as by what they say. Autumn Tales bias is for
wine that has aged, and its leisurely pace gives us time to know and appreciate
the two principal women, Isabelle and Magali.
Probably the richest fun takes place in the scenes in which
Isabelle meets with Gérald (Alain Libolt), a local salesman and eligible
prospect who answered her ad, interviewing him at length before explaining that
she is merely a surrogate for her friend. A charming strategist, Isabelle can
be seen as a stand-in for the director. She shows Gerald a photograph and
invites him to her daughters wedding where he can meet Magali
naturally.
Autumn Tale is the next best thing to a visit to the
Rhone valley. Rohmer makes the time of the year part of the action. Grapes,
birds and flowers are more than background. It is important to take the
tale of the title seriously; although things may seem hopeless,
there is always a sense of beneficent design. Despite his avoidance of
didacticism, Rohmer is deeply convinced that creation reveals a principle of
order, a purpose beyond the physical world in which he delights. The
cameras return to Isabelle as she dances at her daughters wedding
reception provides an ending worthy of Shakespearean comedy.
My Son the Fanatic (Miramax)
is worth seeing principally because of the overwhelming performance by Om Puri
as Parvez, a Pakistani-born father who has supported his family in an English
industrial town for 20 years by driving a taxi. Written by Hanif Kureishi
(My Beautiful Laundrette) from one of his own short stories, it is
a revealing (but inevitably incomplete) glimpse into a world of cultural
dislocation most of us know nothing about.
Parvez believes he has succeeded when he and his wife Minoo (Gopi
Desai) meet their prospective in-laws, an English police officer and his wife,
to whose daughter their son Farid (Akbar Kurtha) has become engaged. This
social encounter only points up the strains in English intercultural life, as
the overeager Parvez tries too hard to be agreeable. Puri catches both the
pathos and the comedy of his character, all too aware that he is caught in a
dead-end routine while his old friend Fizzy (Harish Patel) is a successful
restaurant owner who has long preached fitting in with the English scene.
Parvez is a decent, hardworking man, but in his drive to make a
few extra pounds he allows his taxi to be used to facilitate relations with
prostitutes. When Farvid breaks off his engagement to the policemans
daughter, he is also rejecting his fathers compromises with a culture
dominated by greed. His radical criticism is not without some justification --
They say integrate but they live in pornography and filth.
Unfortunately he finds no alternative except Islamic
fundamentalism. Kureishi fails to sketch in the less dramatic (but
majority) world of ordinary believing Moslems who would be as aghast as Parvez
if a Pakistani cult leader and some of his followers tried to take over their
home. Parvez delivers a comic speech about the harsh inadequacy of the
religious teaching he received as a boy -- which may remind Christian and
Jewish moviegoers of comparably narrow versions of their respective faiths --
but unfortunately My Son the Fanatic seems to confirm prejudiced
Western clichés.
Joseph Cunneen is NCRs regular movie
reviewer.
National Catholic Reporter, July 30,
1999
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