Un ángel en mi mesa

"An Angel at My Table" (1990) made by Jane Campion is a true life-story of Janet Frame (1924-2004), New Zealand's most famous author. The film starts with young Jane, a funny -looking red haired girl, shy and quiet who knew too well that she was "poor, smelly, and unpopular". Then it follows her to misdiagnosis of schizophrenia and more than 200 electroshock treatments in a mental hospital where she had spent eight years and a severe, lifelong shyness that was her only problem. Even in the hospital she was writing and was able to have her book published - writing did save her from losing her mind. The film is based on three of her memoirs, "To the Is-land", "An Angel at My Table" and "The Envoy from Mirror City".

Jane Campion made a very affecting and quietly powerful portrait of a writer who also was a gentle and genuinely humble woman. The film is never a sentimental manipulating story of a talented but misunderstood artist. It does not idealize Frame but it is a very honest and sympathetic portrait of an artist.

For some people, "An Angel At My Table' would be a VERY long sit-through. The story of one of New Zealand's most famous authors, who succeeds despite having gone through schizophrenia isn't exactly family entertainment. But although the movie runs far too long, at 2 and a half hours, I found myself engaged quite a bit as soon as the story got moving, and not a relentless character study. Janette Frame, a girl with a serious shock of red hair, grows up, realizing her passion for writing, and suffers tremendous setbacks, both emotionally and professionally. What a performance the three actresses give as Janette, we see Janette as a young girl, a teenager, and as a young adult. Although Kerry Fox is the most well known of all three, all three are tremendous here, each taking the nuances of Frame, and developing the character beautifully. As per the case of all Jane Campion's films, she knows how to frame the camera quite well, and again, although the movie IS long, it does have a lot of amazing little moments

What do these people have in common: Lou Reed, Vivien Leigh, Yves Saint Laurent, and Janet Frame? Answer: They were all given electroconvulsive shock therapy for highly questionable reasons, and suffered because of it.

Going in to this film I'd never read anything by New Zealand author Janet Frame, but nevertheless found the story of her life to be interesting. She's a compelling figure because of how awkward she was, clearly intelligent and talented but also riddled with social anxiety. It's very well cast, with the transitions between three actresses at differing portions of her life from child to adult being seamless, and all giving good performances.

I didn't give the film a higher rating because despite coming in at 238 minutes spread out over three parts, it left me with questions about aspects of her life and somehow lacked detail in places it shouldn't have, and was probably too long in others. Transitions were often on the abrupt side, and there seemed to be a certain softening of things. Maybe that's how life is when told with a backward glance over decades though, I don't know. Anyway, it's a pretty good film, and one with an uplifting spirit to it.

Superficially, this is a sort of "My Brilliant Career," meets "A Beautiful Mind."

It features one of the most extraordinary actresses, new to me. I saw her in "Intmacy" and had to find more. It is made by a talented and sometimes engaging filmmaker who explores how women are haunted. It is about a writer whose books don't grab me, but whose story does. She believed herself haunted.

The problem is that these three songs from different souls don't overlap that much.

Frame created written images that were teased out of a struggle with life, one that infused her. Her sanity came from the writing. She didn't write about insanity and marginalization, she wrote from them to counter and co-opt them somewhat. This engages the reader because most of us are afraid to go as deeply into the darkness as these visions indicate.

That's a different thing entirely than the story Campion has chosen to give us, which is about all the external agency that surrounded her. I cannot think of an instance where the literary kite and the cinematic string are in such different dimensions. Sure, its an interesting story that someone's light survived, I suppose. But we never see that light, or the ledges that were climbed, or the images that were carried out for us.

What's left for Fox to do is emote visually. She does an extraordinary job, quite apart from the fact that it is ineffective in this container. I really do think she's something — another of those Australian/New Zealand crowd that just seem to have something that is rare elsewhere.

She and the girls who play her younger selves are redheads. That's not at all a cinematic device, though it is used cleverly to mend the three actresses. Frame actually had that Clarabelle hair.

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

It's a biography of New Zealand author Janet Frame played by three different actresses over her life. She was born in 1924. Her large family is relatively poor. She's a chubby sensitive kid with big wild red hair. As a young teacher (Kerry Fox), she has an emotional breakdown and spends time in a mental hospital. She is diagnosed a schizophrenic. With her mother's approval, she is admitted to a mental hospital for over 8 years where she is subjected to 200 shock treatments barely escaping brain surgery.

This is an interesting portrait of a life. It isn't that dramatic except for the hospital section. It's more a series of events where a nervous Janet is belittled and overlooked. It doesn't fit the traditional three act play structure. It's a simple straight time line of events. Jane Campion uses her style of directing. It's natural and confident. A more standard biopic would concentrate on the 8 year hospital stay making a drama out of it. Instead, this way is a more humanistic way of showing a life. Kerry Fox is terrific and the little girl has an unforgettable look.