Geheimnisse

A young art restoration specialist based in Barcelona is retained by an art gallery to restore a 17th century Dutch Masters paainting that has been in a private collection since it was created. The painting depicts an elderly nobleman playing cards with a younger man, while a noblewoman watches in the backgrounnd. All restorations include an xray, and this image reveals an underlying original painting on the same two men playing chess instead of cards. On the lower right, in Latin, are the words "Who Killed the Knight." The film reveals the names of the people in the painting, their relationships to each other, and how they relate to the current owners.

This is a reasonably suspenseful film with qhite a few surprises. The performances are ot bad, although Kate Beckensale's inexperience is glaring. The story, however, more than compensates for this modest short coming, and the sight of the scantily clad beautiful English actress at age 21 is quite breathtaking.

The story behind this movie is quite interesting. Perhaps for some the real mystery was obvious all along, but for me, it held my attention for the whole duration, and it took a second viewing to fully unravel the threads.

The real gem in this movie is Ms. Beckinsale. She is radiantly lovely throughout, and there is a strong sensuality about her that pervades the entire movie. And yes, those who long to see her unclothed will not be disappointed. Even with clothes on, though, she manages to exude this alluring aura that is irresistible.

The supporting cast is mixed. Perhaps the best is the investigating police detective, who is a classic. The gigolo guy is rather over the top.

I also wish they had not inserted those brief historical re-enactments, as they neither fit well into the narrative thread, nor are they in any way convincingly real.

A young Kate Beckinsale barely 20 years old during principal photography (which began one week after her 20th birthday, 2 august 1993), stars as the ingenue protagonist in this light murder mystery. We immediately and easily glean that this is indeed inténded to be a light hearted lowbrow movie, from the cheery musical score which is incessant and at times quite annoying.

Beckinsale plays Julia Darro, a restorer of paintings in Barcelona, who gets a job to restore a 500 year old painting, by the fictitious painter Van Huys (sounds like Van Nuys .... from the boulevard ... get it?) from Flanders, so, not a true Dutch Master but something close to it. She discovers that the painting contains a hidden, painted over message in Latin: "Quis Necavit Equitem" or "Who Killed the Knight?". What unfolds is a who-dunnit with some plot twists, but since they eventually kill off all possible suspects, when we get near the end, it's pretty clear who is the culprit.

Now, miss Beckinsale bravely shows some skin in this movie but, there have been numerous women who done that before her and at a younger age at that. Of the 260+ actresses in this 18-21 age group, Amber Heard, Barbara Capell, Charlotte Alexandra, Charlotte Walior, Clémence Poésy, Donna Wilkes, Georgina Cates, Hayley Mills, Heather Langenkamp, Helena Bonham Carter, Jacqueline Byers, Katie Holmes, Lizzie Brocheré, Mathilda May, Melanie Griffith, Odile Michel, Romane Bohringer, Tamara Mello come to mind, and those are just the ones that were of legal, non-Brooke Shields age, so to speak. But what makes her truly braver than her younger collegueas, are two things that stand out: She has the lips of Art Malik touching her breasts and ... she shows some truly hairy armpits somewhat later .... I found that last one to be especially shocking, since "even" French actressess haven't done that since the 70s. And they dó get a bad rep on the whole hairy armpits thing anyway.

The lightness of the movie is fully intentional, so much of the whining that it doesn't do the book justice is wholly irrelevant. And I get the feeling that much of the negative reviews come from .... let's call them ... the "Cesar Belvedere"-side of the spectrum. Which is odd, because John Wood (what's in a name) is actually one of the excellent aspects of this movie. Even.

Oh well. This movie is like Back to the Future, and all JCVD movies: they are excellent in their respective genres. So, don't go comparing this to "They shoot horses, don't they?" That's nonsensical. If you think this movie hurts the book, get the funding and make one yourself.

7/10.

The Melancholic Alcholic.

Julia (Kate Beckinsale) an art restorer finds a hidden message in medieval painting she is working on that points to the murderer of one of the subjects depicted. Fascinated she digs deeper into the origins of the painting and the clues within. The old mystery though is soon paralleled by a new mystery as the people involved in her research start to die. The story is seemingly well suited to the British mystery genre but fails largely due to aspects of the execution.

Kate Beckinsale manages with her portrayal to be both slightly awkward as well as endearingly cute but she seems decidedly out of her depth in a few of the more emotional/dramatic scenes. The film does boast a strong supporting cast of British character actors who may not have name recognition to some but should be highly recognizable to many including; John Wood, Sinead Cusack, Michael Gough. For the most part the supporting cast acquit themselves well considering how clichéd their characters are.

While some may find it slow I was interested in the glimpse at the Art restoration process, I thought some things look authentic about the process, but other aspects didn't quite ring true. The current day murder mystery aspect was far less satisfying, character behavior and actions seemed inconsistent and for me the biggest flaw (considering the genre) was that the identity of the murderer seemed far to obvious. Further the brief flashbacks to the subjects of the painting did virtually nothing to advance or support the story, they simply felt unnecessary.

The film is set in Barcelona but features an almost entirely English cast that speaks entirely in English and makes no attempt at Spanish accents. This is common in American films but seemed odd in a British film. The film makes reasonable use of the Barcelona locations including some wonderful Gaudi architecture, but I actually would have preferred even more attention on the culture and the city.

No question in my mind, there's no question that the vitality of film these days is in the hands of Spanish storytelling: layered narrative, magical deviations from causality, sex as physics. The beauty of woman and places deeply rooted to the elegance of understanding.

There are narrative notions and cinematic qualities being nurtured in this broad community that are worth nurturing by us through appreciation. Here's a project that when you sum it all up is a dreadful movie, but it knows what it is about in terms of some intelligent ideas. It just didn't have the talent to match those ideas.

Here's the deep spine which is attempted: Pérez-Reverte writes mystery stories in a magical realism tradition. His device is usually to play between the happening of a thing and the representation of that happening in a book or painting. The idea is to fold his representation (his book) into the story, reaping all sorts of storytelling advantages.

Once these layers are established, he can jump in and out of various levels, and so can we as readers and some of the main characters as they develop insight. Layers are narrative layers, story threads, time, and almost always abstraction layers in terms of creating events and creating laws behind those events.

But the books themselves have problems. The ideas in their construction are a whole lot more engaging than the books themselves. The actual skill at storytelling just isn't masterful enough to control, channel and exploit these conceptual tides that have been unleashed.

One of his books was made into a film by a true master filmmaker, Polanski, and starred someone who knows that rare trick of layered or folded acting, where you inhabit more than one layer at a time. You had to work at it, but "Ninth Gate" really is as good as its ideas, and the ideas are in that film are both richer and crisper than in the source book.

And now we have this film of another of Pérez-Reverte's works. A simpler book in key ways.

One change it makes is to relocate the story to Barcelona and Gaudi's architecture. He is our most "folded" architect, and that change shows some real understanding of what is at stake. The filmmaker here is the guy who best exploited the environmental fabric of New Orleans to transform a simple story into a pretty interesting film in "The Big Easy."

For some reason, he is unable to do the same here. I think he could have if he had more time to get into the rhythm of the place, which is less hedonistic than New Orleans but more achingly romantic; more poundingly African under a sunny, slightly mechanical nonchalance. The project could have used this, and it was in his power, but it eludes us this time.

And that lack of control extends to more mundane production elements. The balance between realism and theatrical stereotypes/architypes was lost, probably unachievable with this cast.

The cast centers on Kate Beckinsale as our surrogate detective, who really is alluring, and in precisely the way the project demands: physically, she is made here as befitting of the place: sloppy, casual (unshaven pits), boyish face, innocent questioner on the surface -- deeply sexual and possibly powerful underneath. But she couldn't deliver that last part, the power part. Indeed, any emotion is amateurish. I haven't really paid much attention to her later work. I think it about the same.

So. What we have is a parcel of really great ideas. Important, central ones if you love movies and seriously use them in building a life and life awareness. These are all here, but mostly implicit. You have to almost ignore the movie to see them.

But along the way, you get a pretty girl, the most intriguing city on the planet, and a painting that is worthy of its role.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.