The Last September

The story is convoluted. But the strength (and the JOY) of this film is the manner in which it has so genuinely captured an era and a place, the Ireland of 1920. The camera work is unique. It came as no surprise to see that the director is a woman. Deborah Warner brings a soft and compassionate understanding to her subject which would be beyond a male. Her framing, her angles, her pacing are all perfection. She gets everything out of her actors. Maggie Smith never has been better. This is a fine and memorable film in which the story is really less important than the dream like images that support it. It's artistry.

This is the only feature film directed by the well-known London theatre director, Deborah Warner. It is a pity she has not made more. She has a wonderful feeling for mood and atmosphere, and this film is soaked in it. The story is from a novel by Elizabeth Bowen and concerns the landed gentry known as Anglo-Irish who once inhabited grand mansions in southern Ireland (Eire) until the Troubles, when most of the mansions were burnt down (a great loss to architecture) by the 'republicans'. The film centres upon the great house and grounds of the Naylor family, and does not deal with the larger picture in Ireland. The remarkable Keeley Hawes starred in this film just before appearing in WIVES AND DAUGHTERS (1999, see my review), and as she began acting on television at the age of 13, she was already a trooper by this time, aged 23. There is no doubt that Hawes has always been, and continues to be a most impressive actress, as she proves once again here. In the story, the beautiful and skittish young Hawes has known since childhood a sinister young man who has now become an IRA killer, and she helps to conceal him in a local ruin, bringing him food and comfort. She does this despite knowing that he has just killed someone, fascinated by the evil of him and feeling no compunction because she likes the thrill and finds him sensually exciting. She lives with her aunt and uncle. The uncle is played with his usual expansive flair and mellifluous voice by Michael Gambon, while the aunt is played by Maggie Smith, who adds her lustre as always. An unexpected intrusion into the story is a visiting woman played by Jane Birkin, who adds a mysterious presence. An especially fine performance is given by Fiona Shaw, who effortlessly dominates scenes when she is in them. As Ireland and the characters of the story hurtle towards tragedy, we see a true 'end of an era', filmed on location in one beautiful rambling old house which seems to have avoided destruction. As visions of lost worlds go, this is a fine one, and the story is absorbing and beautifully filmed. The costumes were by John Bright personally, not just by his firm Cosprop. I remember him well from when he was just beginning, way back when, in yet another lost era called the sixties. The music is by Zbigniew Preisner, and is therefore highly superior, as is his wont. The film had no less than eleven producers, so many that they outnumber the main players in the cast. One is reminded of the 'Irish joke' which asks how many Irishmen it takes to change a light bulb. Never mind, wars can still be won when there are too many generals, as long as there is a good director on hand. This film deserves much more attention than it has had, and is a truly wonderful evocation of a time and place now lost in history.

"The Last September" is set in County Cork, Ireland in 1920, just prior to the institution of the Irish Free State, the days of Michael Collins. (Mr. Collins and the other scions of the revolution are notably absent in this film.) The view of the film is narrowed to the trials and tribulations of Anglo-Irish aristocrats, and friends, who inhabit their country manor on their last Summer holiday in colonial Cork.

The film's strength is its microscopic cinematic views of the lives of the aristocrats and their guests. The filming is rich and startling. Small distracted moments are captured with amazing effect. Reflections in picture frame glass and windows are very compelling. The viewer is sometimes made an involuntary voyeur. This created a discomfort, an edge, for me.

Sometimes Gothic, sometimes just frustratingly slow, the film's moods are overpowering. I felt like I had been made one of the aristocratic "tribe", as they call themselves. I could experience their self restraint and quit desperation at times. I found myself twisting in my seat at these moments.

Lois, played marvelously by Keeley Hawes, reminded me of Lucy Harmon in Bertolucci's "Stealing Beauty", as played marvelously by Liv Tyler. The film has trouble staying focused on her. Perhaps this is to be expected, since she represents the

elusive True Spirit of the Irish, conflicted about passion and pride, freedom and violence. Fiona Shaw captures in her character what Lois must become. The relationship between the two women is a painfully powerful representation of the Death of Self at the hands of conventions, the consequences of classism, sexism and tribalism.

The handling of the the other characters seemed cursory and prone to stereotyping. Michael Gambon and Maggie Smith did the work and turned the coal of potentially predictable rich 'county' types to diamonds of lovably faceted eccentrics.

The film is not easy. The time did not fly by. There were many laughs. There were many stunning visual and emotional moments. I guess it was like life itself, in a particular place and time.

Not everyone is familiar with the unique place of the Anglo-Irish in Ireland, and some of my companions expressed trouble following who was who, and how were they related. It took a while to get past this, I suppose. But the film itself is a compelling story of conflicting loyalties, misunderstood motives, and troublesome times. The juxtaposition of dinner parties and political violence was perfectly done. One of the most interesting "period pieces" I've seen, and of course, it's worth the price just to see Maggie Smith again.

Absorbing screen play. Not easy, not especially familiar to many of us but extremely thought-provoking, given the Anglo-Irish theme and the time in which the film is set. An excellent cast led by the magnificent Maggie Smith who simply oozes condescension, snobbery, class-ism and caste-ism, while displaying genuine affection for 'her own kind of people'. The setting of faded yet comfortable gentility is just right and the inclusion of down-on-their-luck relatives rings true also. Keely Hawes creates the right air of fragility, self-absorption and feyness. Her scenes with the admirable Fiona Shaw are powerful and reflect her dawning sense of self and of a desperation to escape, as the story unfolds. And David Tennant? Heartbreakingly real as the young would-be lover and army officer. What a very fine actor he is, despite a rather anaemic and quite unnecessary moustache. So good too to see the excellent Richard Roxburgh, playing Tennant's best pal in the army.

In summary, a film that is worth making the effort to see and to mull over. An auspicious beginning for Deborah Warner.