Guinevere

Writer/director Audrey Wells, who would go on to make 2003's "Under the Tuscan Sun" as well as the recent "Shall We Dance", directed Sarah Polley in 1999's "Guinevere". Wells' forte seems to be characters in search of romance who find it in unexpected places. It was the 'ugly' girl in "Truth About Cats & Dogs", Italy in "Tuscan Sun", and the older man in this film. That older man is played with wild abandon by Stephen Rea, often inappropriately stealing the show. Ignoring Jean Smart's histrionic heavy scene later in the film, and the control Rea's Connie has over Polley's Harper, this is Sarah Polley's film. What make this film work is its sensitivity and subtly, especially toward Harper's youth, naivete, and uncertainty in love and life. It's a sweet film about self-discovery at any age, and although it gets a bit moody toward the end, it works well as a date movie.

This is a murky, unfocused little film. It is clear that Audrey Wells is a talented writer-director, but I felt a lack of assurance in the execution of her story. However, Jean Smart delivers a brilliant performance that enriches the film, making it memorable. She nails every single SECOND of the film she's in; her monologue towards Rea is a devastating piece of acting that was shamefully overlooked by the Academy. This woman is one of the best actresses of her generation, and if you saw her hilarious, Emmy-winning spot on "Frasier" you know she's got strong comedic chops, too. Give Jean Smart better roles!

The young Canadian actress Sarah Polley can sizzle in character parts--she burns a hole in the screen in her tiny bit in Cronenberg's EXISTENZ, and she was luminous as the princess in the wheelchair in THE SWEET HEREAFTER. But in leading roles, she seems both brittle and amoeboid. As Harper, the insecure and overlooked daughter of a family of cutthroat lawyers, she has one amazing scene--being seduced, her reactions fry out her speakers, sending from giggly hysteria to overdrive lust. Harper is seduced by an aging bohemian wedding photographer (Stephen Rea)--a lush who talks a big game, pontificates in bars with his low-rent cronies, and makes a sport and a pastime of mentoring (and groping) avid young women. But we don't see any hunger, any passion or obsession in Harper. When the photographer, Connie, tells her she has talent it's an obvious pick-up line--not because she hasn't done any work, but because she shows no interest in anything but being noticed.

The writer-director, Audrey Wells, doesn't show much interest in anything else, either. The author of the scripts for GEORGE OF THE JUNGLE and INSPECTOR GADGET, her first indie feature has more than a whiff of the dilettante. Like AMERICAN BEAUTY, GUINEVERE likes to flirt with the idea of having an "edge," then shies away from it. Both of these movies are just too damned clear. The pleasure of that seduction scene is that Harper responds in ways that are messy, funny, unprogrammed; every other scene in the picture makes its point in letters so bold the thickest member of the audience couldn't miss it.

You can take the girl out of the studio, but ain't no way you're taking the studio out of the girl. The lechy photographer's big sin--the thing that makes him evanesce in Harper's eyes--is that, at fifty, he's still stumping and hustling for cash. Can Audrey Wells really intend that it's okay for Connie to be a serial phony, an ego-inflating come-on artist, but his real Achilles' heel is that he never made real money? (Wells' point seems to be: Connie gets Harper's tender young flesh--he could at least pay the bills.) Every scene is so blandly overdetermined it reeks of falsity--especially the much-applauded one where Harper's bitchy mom (Jean Smart) comes into Connie's loft and undoes their relationship with a single cutting observation. (Would these lovers react with such shock to such an obvious accusation?)

For someone making a movie about the romance of the artist's life, Wells seems to have no clue how artists talk to each other, or even behave--she seems to think that's egghead stuff the audience won't care about. But it's that, not sex, that's supposed to be the fundament of Connie and Harper's relationship. Despite Rea's and Polley's efforts, the movie drowns in big-movie timidity. And the ending--a Felliniesque princess fantasy where all of Connie's sweet young things gather for an All That Jazz adieu--maybe intended to be tender. It comes across as a final, passive-aggressive flipping of the bird to a half-forgotten, dirty-minded teacher.

I can't say exactly what, but something is missing in this movie. Poor Connie. I think he gets less out of the relationships than the Guineveres. Maybe I like things "tied up" too much, but I wish we'd seen a little of Harper's work so we could judge just how well Connie taught her. A scene of her in a gallery or studio somewhere surrounded by her work as she answers a ringing telephone (presumably with Billie on the other end) would have been satisfying--no dialog necessary, just a look of sadness on her face. Whatever else, this movie sure spurred some dialog between my 25-year-old daughter and me.

Interesting that (along with another reviewer) I saw the connection between the Stephen Rea character, Connie, in this movie and Herman Wouk's Noel Airman in the 50's novel "Marjorie Morningstar" and talked about that as we walked home. And as big a bitch as Harper's mother was, she had it right as she saw through Connie. Beautifully acted by all principals!

A young woman living in San Francisco, who has just been accepted to Harvard, decides upon another path after meeting and falling under the influence of an older man, an artist, in `Guinevere,' written and directed by Audrey Wells. Sarah Polley stars as Harper Sloane, who lives with her career oriented, rather self-absorbed family-- her parents, Alan (Francis Guinan) and Deborah (Jean Smart), and her older sister, Susan (Emily Procter). Rather self-conscious and unsure of herself, Harper has allowed her parents to plan her future-- a career in law, though it is decidedly against her own wishes. Then at Susan's wedding she meets the photographer, Connie Fitzpatrick (Stephen Rea), an artist, who quickly gains her confidence and lures her into his own bohemian lifestyle. She moves in with him (unbeknownst to her parents, who think she's staying with a friend for awhile), and he becomes her mentor; she is his `Guinevere,' and the only demands he makes of her is that she `create' something every day. The choice of her artistic endeavors is entirely up to her; photography, painting, writing, dancing. but she must create.

Inevitably, of course, their relationship develops beyond the mentor/protege stage, and she learns some things about him that ultimately lead to complications. And she discovers that her reign as Queen Guinevere may not be all that she had expected it to be.

Wells convincingly presents the allurement of a lifestyle free of constraints and overwhelming demands, which makes it quite understandable that the indecisive Harper would choose to go with Connie, rather than adhere to the wishes of her parents, who are rather cold and impersonal and altogether controlling (especially her mother). The fact that Alan dotes on Susan and could seemingly care less about Harper, as well as Deborah's apparent lack of actual concern for Harper, qualifies the facility with which Harper is able to effect her plans so readily. And even when Deborah finds out what Harper is up to (which, of course, was inevitable), she seems to take it as a personal affront more than anything, and is content with merely denigrating the relationship into which her daughter has entered, rather than even trying to change it, which ostensibly at least, would be the appropriate reaction of a concerned parent.

Polley is well cast as Harper, as physically and emotionally she is able to fit Harper's profile perfectly, and she gives a credible performance, though given her unassuming manner and fairly nondescript appearance, it says more about Connie than it does about her. And what you have already been able to deduce about Connie from his pursuit of Harper is further underscored during a scene in which Deborah confronts him with her views on the situation (which is arguably the most powerful scene in the film).

Rea is perfectly cast, as well, affecting a patient, reserved manner, touched with an almost forlorn weariness evocative of a certain wisdom-of-the-world attitude that makes Harper's attraction to him believable. And as the story unfolds, he very subtly allows you to see more of what lies beneath the surface until, in the end, you have a concise picture of who Connie really is. It's a fine, understated performance, and a good bit of work by Rea.

In a supporting role that demands mention, Jean Smart gives a smoldering performance as Deborah, a woman of seemingly insatiable needs and an overwhelming desire to dominate. And Smart plays it perfectly, from the look in her eye to the telling way she carries herself, making the most of her limited screen time and making Deborah the most memorable character of the film.

The supporting cast includes Gina Gershon (Billie), Paul Dooley (Walter), Carrie Preston (Patty), Tracy Letts (Zack), Sharon McNight (Leslie), Sandra Oh (Cindy), Grace Una (April) and Jasmine Guy (Linda). Though not a film with which you can get too emotionally involved, `Guinevere' has it's moments and does manage to maintain interest. The characters are real enough, but they evoke a sense of ambivalence; these are not people you are necessarily going to like or dislike. In the final analysis, it's a good film, and worth seeing-- but with the possible exception of Smart's character, there is nothing especially memorable or compelling about it. I rate this one 6/10.