Haus Bellomont

Director Terence Davies has done a magnificent job of recreating the turn of the century in "The House of Mirth," a 2000 film starring Gillian Anderson, Eric Stoltz, Dan Ackroyd, Laura Linney, Anthony LaPaglia, and Terry Kinney.

Anderson is Lily Bart, a beautiful young woman of good social standing, traveling in the best circles, who throws away her opportunities for a good marriage because she wants something more meaningful. However, her reputation begins to suffer due to her circle's misreading of an innocent situation, and things go from bad to worse for her as she descends down the social strata. She has it in her power to win back everything she has lost but refuses to stoop that low due to her love for one man.

It's obvious that Davies took a great deal of care with this film. It is not infused with modern sensibilities, the period look is authentic, as is the look of the cast. By that I mean, Gillian Anderson's sumptuous red hair, full beautiful face, and lovely figure are much more period than, say, Gwyneth Paltrow's -- and yet films are rarely cast with an eye toward capturing the period in that way. The casting of Dan Ackroyd as Trenor is unusual but very right - he's not truly of the class he travels in and a real glad-hander. Eric Stoltz is Selden - handsome without being drop dead gorgeous, gentile without being effeminate, who has good chemistry with Anderson.

The villainess of the piece is Laura Linney as the awful Bertha Dorset, a cunning witch, and as usual, Linney is perfection -- smiling, subtle, and you can just see the knife going in. In the book she is more responsible for Lily's troubles than in the film. In the film, we see her making initial trouble for Lily; in the book, she continues to work on destroying her with a whisper here and word there.

What makes the story of Lily so frustrating is that she can ruin Bertha in five minutes but refuses, suffering instead, which drove me crazy. That's not the film's fault.

This was an era where no one expressed emotions, so when someone says, thank you or I understand, there is a world of meaning to be read in the eyes. It's a world of artifice, and Davies obviously worked at getting this from his actors. Everything is in what lies beneath.

The acting is uniformly excellent; only Gillian Anderson falls a little short of the mark. Lily is an extremely difficult role, and Anderson at least in 2000 did not have all the necessary skill to completely pull it off. She has the look, the bearing, and the intelligence. What she lacks is the ability to actually become someone of that era, rather than putting it on like an overcoat. She does much better in the latter part of the film, which calls for a different set of acting muscles than in the beginning.

Reminiscent a bit of "Sister Carrie," "The House of Mirth" points up the difficulties of women in that time period to make their way, of the boundaries of class, and the rigidity of the upper class. Highly recommended, but not an easy, cheerful film by any means.

This is a slow paced mesmerising film. If your only knowledge of Gillian Anderson is as Dana Scully in the X-Files then you are in for a big surprise. Firstly the lady can act, and secondly with great subtlety. If you have read the book then clearly the writer/director Terence Davies has taken a few liberties. But so much script has been lifted word for word from the novel that I think he can be forgiven any eccentricities. This is a story of manners in early twentieth century New York and environs. Everyone seems so decent and 'proper', but each plays their own manipulative game. No-one (with the exception of Sim Rosedale) tells the truth. As a morality tale it seems as relevant today as when Edith Wharton wrote it. Davies has succeeded in losing none of its mood or punch by transferring it to screen. Unfortunately I think this is a film that requires watching more than once as some explanatory scenes appear to have ended up on the cutting room floor. Generally the acting is excellent throughout though I felt that at times Davies's enthusiasm for detail hamstrung some actors where others appeared to have relished the close direction. This is a film to add to your personal collection.

Along with Scorsese's, The Age of Innocence and Iain Softley's, The Wings of the Dove, Terence Davies' The House of Mirth forms a triumvirate of modern period drama for a discerning audience. Davies is not interested chiefly in either scenery or costume - that is, in history as a heritage theme-park - but in the story, its themes and characters, and in teasing out good performances from his cast. The modest budget of this film works in its favour. Most of the best scenes and shots are framed in intimacy, not lost amidst panoramas of superficial grandeur or the shallow aesthetics of Merchant-Ivory-style film making.

At the heart of Davies' film is Gillian Anderson's brilliant performance as Lilly Bart. Since she is on screen almost all of the time the film really stands or falls by her performance. She sheds her "X-Files" persona in moments and conveys an enormous range of subtle emotions as her character vacillates between an almost involuntary avarice and moral scruples, foolishness, charm, fortune and tragedy. The affect of Anderson's performance is lasting and deep. Indeed, this film lives on long in the memory and continued to trouble me for weeks after I had seen it.

I haven't read "The House of Mirth" by Edith Wharton yet, but I intend to now. This movie interpretation captured Wharton's acidity towards NY society more than Scorcese's "Age of Innocence" did, which focused more on personal failings.

Here a magnificently beautiful Gillian Anderson's character is stupid and stubborn, but doesn't really do anything wrong that society manipulates and revenges on her. She is absolutely superb with a very wide-ranging performance and it's a real shame she's being overlooked in end of the year awards.

The costumes are absolutely gorgeous. Having worked at a Hudson River estate museum I thought the movie absolutely captured the feeling of those hazy summers out of the city then was astounded to see it was all filmed in Scotland (which would explain the rocky coasts that were the only thing that confusingly didn't look like the Hudson).

The long movie is a bit slow and I think my mind wandered such that I missed a crucial plot point here or there - not sure we needed all the twinkling on the water shots.

Laura Linney plays against type as a practically evil duplicitous friend (worse than her wife in "The Truman Show").

It was interesting to compare this to Jane Austen interpretations which tend to emphasize the humor of her pot shots at silly society figures, but those folks were in small towns, not the big leagues where raised eyebrows affect fortunes. For society types, this is The Show.

Ebert (and my mother) gave it negative reviews because they absolutely refused to believe that a woman in her social class in 1906 had no other choices besides marriage but I think it was historically accurate, as Wharton was writing, bitterly, about a society she had observed (in a line from George Eliot to Hardy's Tess and Crane's Maggie). The women coming out of the theater agreed that we'd want to see it again.

(originally written 1/28/2001)

Reviews of this movie seem to fall into few categories, loved it because of Gillian Anderson, loved it because of the book, loved it because it was dreamy, hated it because I just didn't get it, hated it because of Gillian Anderson, hated it because it wasn't the book, hated it because it had no Arnie and wasn't Armageddon.

If you can't follow Edwardian English, if you can't follow a movie with scene shifts without a subtitle that says "you are now in London", "You are now in New York", if you can't read emotions off of actor's faces even when their words contradict their feelings, well, you're going to hate this movie. If you need a driving soundtrack to tell you exactly what mood you're supposed to be feeling for each scene, you're going to hate this movie. If you can't accept the fact that flawed characters develop but don't always overcome in the end, you're going to hate this movie.

OK, now that the summer action flic viewers have stopped reading this review in disgust (just as they left this movie early), we can get on with the review. I think Gillian Anderson was a good pick for the part, and did a very good, if not quite excellent performance. Part of Guilded Age/Edwardian upper-crust behaviour was the semblance of civility under the most trying of circumstances, such as saying "Thank You" when you've just been fired or otherwise dissed. Add that to the stylized English and you end up having to PAY ATTENTION to understand what is going on to get it.

One of the brilliant aspects of casting is the Gillian Anderson pick. Instead of a brilliant blonde or smouldering brunette, you have a non-conventional look (short, voluptuos and red-headed) that jolts (and excites) the modern eye, but actually better fit in to the pre-Chanel standard of beauty of that time.

At its heart the novel is a morality tale, describing the pitfalls of being beautiful, manipulative and shallow while failing to be cunning and wise. Lily Bart is callous to her suitors at first, only to fall into multiple social traps. In the end she relies solely on her integrity and dignity, which is insufficient to extricate her from her circumstances. This may offend many who expect the heroine to prevail in the end due to a simple basic morality (which is there in Lily), perseverance (which is also there), a clever plot twist and a 40mm grenade launcher (both missing).

Lavish sets, beautiful backdrops, gorgeous costumes, good acting (with the possible exception of Akroyd), all make this a surreal, if sad, journey for the cognitively aware and patient. I say "possible exception" because of one subtext of the novel & movie is the interplay of the American Nuveau Riche and the old nobility of England and Europe. Thus the wealthy American Entrepeneurs are depicted as brutish and obvious, though this is tolerated in society because their path was already blazed in the 1890's by the first wave of gold miners, oil drillers and electric company tycoons that swept through Europe and married into storied, if not monies, bloodlines. Thus, Akroyd's blatant and crude manipulations and language are somewhat justified.

But, if you don't like period pieces, costume dramas, and identifying with wealthy people who have never worked a day in their lives, all this will be lost on you.