The Cherry Orchard

In this era of gratuitous special effects and uneven, even shoddy, production, one cannot depend on Hollywood to successfully transfer a stage play to the screen. This movie is partially the exception, as the movie amazingly pulls itself together in midstream to become a commendable work of art. The first part of this movie is a cinematic disaster. It's boring, slow, and muddled, with a terrible first ten minutes which is supposed to provide some background information about some of the main characters but which is totally disconnected from the main body of the story itself which takes place in a completely different venue. Then as this movie is heading toward a complete cinematic breakdown it amazingly recovers its strength and vitality and becomes crisp, sharp, focused and coherent, conveying a poignant story about torment and suffering in time of change. From that point on all the performances are great, especially that of Michael Gough, Alan Bates and the beautiful Charlotte Rampling who succeeds in capturing the essence of the woman whose whole world is being turned upside down. But despite the strong finish, that one first has to endure a truly bad start before getting to the good part makes this movie a tedious cinematic experience.

I have to say I hated this movie. I don't like to say that because Gerard Butler is in it. About a half an hour of boring conversation, sorry to all who actually care about the plot, I started fast-forwarding to Gerry's scenes. I really don't know the ending, I was that bored with it. If Gerry wasn't in it, I probably either done one of two things: fell asleep or turned it off, but Gerry is the bright light of this movie, as he is with most of his earlier movies. If you're a fan of Gerry's don't worry, he's as adorable and precious as he always is, but if you actually want to watch the movie for the plot, good luck because you'll need it, either that or lots of coffee or soda to keep you awake!

4/10...and that's just because the casting director had the sense to put Gerry in this movie, even though they had no idea of how to spell his name!

From the previous reviews I gather that this is where the elite meet to bleat. I wish those who are so afflicted by nearly everything in this lovely film could spell a bit better. I have seen several stage versions of this play, and I have read the play, so I was prepared to see the film. I agree with whoever it was who said it would appeal best to those who had seen or read the play and that is true. Not every film is for the popcorn crowd. I loved the atmosphere and that is something you cannot get in a stage play. How can acres of cherry trees in blossom be offensive to anyone? That falling-down hunting lodge seemed just right for that decaying family. The costumes were beautiful. There is not a single character in the story whom anyone could actually like, it's true, but by the end of the story you have been told so many things about them, if you pay attention, you can believe in them, which is better at times than merely being able to 'like' them. I believe Chekhov would have approved it.

How should one live? This is the fundamental question in most of Chekhov's works. Here it's openly exposed and discussed. Should the declining aristocratic family attach themselves to the possession of their cherry orchard (a symbolic representative of the grand ornaments of the Russian aristocracy) or should they give in to modern commercialization in order to survive? What is the value of tradition and how many trees should each one os us have? Chekhov does not answer. But he formulates the questions in the most fascinating way. In addition to scholarly speeches about such fundamental dilemmas, the author also takes pleasure in a witty verve, offering us a 'veduta' of high culture and life in style in 19th century Russia. But, as the critic Pierce Inverarity summed up, this is not just a typical nineteenth-century play; its potential topics, questions and answers are relevant to any individual dealing with society and history, anywhere and anytime. However, as universal and moving as it can be on stage, Chekhov's play isn't the stuff of a great movie -- there's simply nothing filmic about it.

People leave rooms, enter rooms. Peep through windows. Hide behind doors. Everyone behaves as if they've just lost their best friend. It's all so melodramatic. There's a piano score by Tchaikovsky that plays relentlessly on the soundtrack so as to cue us to the perpetual state of melancholy. A real cheerless meandering stagey bore of a movie. Charlotte Rampling tries hard and Alan Bates looks like he wandered in from another movie.