Lady Chatterley's Lover

It looks good. The acting of the 2 leads is convincing and yet there is no heat, no chemistry and no peril in what they may loose.

As with so much of Lawrence's adaptations, they capture the text, the story, but not the spirit of the author.

It fails to capture some of the subplots that would make this a real telling of the book. Lord Chatterley is a caring thoughtful man one moment and ridiculous stereotype the next. Hilda, caring when Connie is ill and yet cold and shrill later. Mrs Bolton was not developed in this adaptation, possibly because of time.

It's worth a watch. Netflix are starting to do more highbrow movies with Rebecca coming last year. This is better than that. Let's hope it continues.

This production of LADY CHATTERLEY'S LOVER neatly summarizes the plot of the novel upon which it is based, and it retains a surprising amount of the naughty bits that earned the novel its notoriety. In the process of condensing the story, the filmmakers lost some of its emotional appeal. Emma Corrin in particular brings depth to an underwritten role, but the rest of the cast capably acquit themselves with similarly underdeveloped material. Unfortunately, the romance often feels more like something that hits the beats of the story rather than something genuine and romantic or erotic. Most of the production values are good.

Sometimes a movie is more than the sum of its parts. Not this latest LCL. Here the parts stubbornly refuse to come together (pun intended).

In a culture ruled by intellect and divided by class, Lawrence advocated for connection and the body. But sex, for Lawrence, is not solely about climax; it is also a vehicle of self-discovery, a way to transcend class.

Unfortunately, the film demonstrates little of Lawrence's penetration. Instead, Lady Chatterley and her story languish under a frigid ideological lens.

Thus Corrin's Lady Chatterley can best be described as 'disembodied.' The director is more interested in her as an idea than a flesh-and-blood person. Her face registers, but what is missing is the experience of her awkward, boyish body. Honestly, if she manifested a new consciousness in the way she moved and held herself, I sure didn't notice it.

Similarly, she arouses no physical chemistry in a fine-looking O'Connell, who in turn does capture the accent, but not the ecstasy. Their nude scenes together, devitalized by the wan colors of the photography, are the reverse of joyously sensuous.

Speaking of which, has Venice ever been less sensuous?

In the end, the film makes the viewer an intellectual observer, not a partaker. The film's elements, though in ever such good taste, lack that lush, unashamed appeal to the senses that would have immersed us in Connie's and Mellor's awakening to what it is to be woman and man.

Qualified recommendation: despite its shortcomings, a springboard into a more personal, transgressive, and passionate imaginative experience.

While not completely awful, this latest adaptation feels a bit like the suburban woman's book club version of Lady Chatterley's Lover. Connie is given a light feminist makeover, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but in most respects the writing and the direction loses the muscularity and the rawness of the novel. The scene with Connie and Oliver frolicking naked in the rain is emblematic of this director's approach. It's cute and maybe a tad naughty, rather than erotically charged or daring or liberating. And poor Mellors, while beautifully played by Jack O'Connell, feels somewhat emasculated by both the script and the tepid direction. It's also telling that they chose a boyish, svelte, hairless, almost twinkish type like O'Connell, who doesn't exactly embody Mellors as written by Laurence. So it's fair to say this movie is more Connie's story than it is Mellor's. The actors are fine though - particularly Joely Richardson as Mrs Bolton. And the cinematography is some compensation for the lack of literary cred.

This is just another one of the many films that gets remade over and over again. The remakes never get any better, in fact often the reverse. And this film fulfills that formula perfectly. It's dumbed down, unsexy and uninteresting.

There is no chemistry between the two titular characters whatsoever and the acting is no very good. I didn't particularly hate the performances but I also didn't find them in the least believable.

The writing was pretty terrible. It seemed as though they wanted to have somebody be the "bad guy" but they just weren't sure about who to make it. Direction was poor. Too concerned with the surface appearances and ignoring the substance. The set and costuming were basically BBC average.

Like man Netflix "originals" they are scared of offending anyone and spend so much time and effort on avoiding that offense that the end product is as bland and tasteless as cafeteria food.