Sommersby

I'm sorry for this long digression, but Sommersby reminds me of Berthold Brecht's play The Good Woman of Szechuan, based on a biblical parable. In the original parable, two women each claim that a baby is hers. King Solomon says he'll settle the matter by cutting the baby in half; one woman stops him, saying that the other can have the baby. Solomon gives the baby to the woman who has offered to relinquish it, on the basis that she loves the baby more than the other, so she must be the real mother. But in Brecht's version it is the false mother who relinquishes, and is therefore given, the baby. Brecht draws the Marxist moral from the story that things belong to those who love and use them best, regardless of legal ownership.

Jon Amiel's beautiful and touching film, adapted from a French movie, makes much the same point - that the pretended Jack Sommersby (Richard Gere) deserves to be regarded as the true husband of Laurel (Jody Foster) because he loves her more than the legal one; deserves to be regarded as the owner of the Sommersby land because he works it better; and deserves Sommersby's name - whatever that brings - because he honours it more.

At a realistic level there are a few difficulties in translating the original Martin Guerre story from the Middle Ages to the post Civil War era, and parts of the courtroom sequence could have been more incisive; but these flaws are of little account, compared with the overall sweep of the film, both plot-wise, but especially visually. It achieves epic proportions at some points, and there are wide vistas of people working in the fields reminiscent of Terrence Mallick's Days of Heaven, which also starred Gere.

It seems to be the done thing on these postings to sneer at Gere's acting; I've no idea why. Time after time, in a wide range of parts and films - from Yanks and An Officer and a Gentleman to Internal Affairs and Pretty Woman - he delivers professional and sensitive performances. Here again, his performance is impeccable; as is that of Jodie Foster, whose part calls for her to be restrained, especially when Sommersby first appears. (Incidentally, I couldn't care less whether there was any so-called chemistry between Gere and Foster; some film-goers should get it into their heads that couples on the screen are acting at making love, not engaging in the real activity.)

For the most part I found this movie to be nothing more than a routine movie about a man who may not be who he claims to be. But then, somehow, the last twenty minutes or so struck a chord with me and made the whole thing worthwhile.

Richard Gere plays Jack Sommersby (or does he?), a Confederate veteran of the Civil War who returns home after several years in a Federal prison camp. He is accepted by the townsfolk and by his wife, but he is a changed man (war could do that) and suspicions begin to rise. Ultimately, the question of his true identity becomes a life and death issue when he faces trial for murder. Is it or is it not a case of mistaken identity?

Richard Gere handled this role superbly. I was very impressed with him. I was less impressed with Jodie Foster, who seemed terribly miscast to me. Be warned: this is not a fast-paced movie, and it sometimes bogs down, but it manages to hold its own. Not a classic by any means, but worth a look-see.

6/10

Released in 1993 and directed by Jon Amiel, "Sommersby" stars Richard Gere as a Confederate soldier returning to his rundown estate in Tennessee and his wife, Laurel (Jodie Foster), after a long six years absence. Curiously, Laurel discovers that the war has changed Jack for the better. Bill Pullman plays his rival for Laurel's affections while James Earl Jones appears as a judge in the final act.

This is such a well-done Civil War drama, taking place just after the war in 1866-1867. The story is contrived, but executed believably with convincing performances. Contrived or not, something like this COULD happen, if you reflect on it. I can't say more because it's best that you go into the movie without knowing the revelations of the final act. The first half is low-key, but it's just a foundation for the realistic thrills of the mid-point and the suspenseful drama of the closing act.

The film runs 114 minutes and was shot in Virginia with the opening winter scene filmed at Snowshoe Mountain Ski Resort, West Virginia.

GRADE: B+

ADDITIONAL COMMENTARY ***SPOILER ALERT***

A clueless reviewer criticized the film on the grounds that "this story fell a bit flat for me when Jack, for some reason, doesn't tell the same (true) story (that clarifies the identity confusion) to the court, that he does to his wife in the final jail scene."

This is incredible because the movie plainly reveals several reasons why Jack didn't want to tell the truth that he wasn't really Jack Sommersby: (1.) The freed blacks and others who bought & farmed parts of his land would lose it; (2.) his wife & daughter would be condemned as an adulteress and a bastard child respectively; (3.) he "buried" Horace Townsend forever when he buried the real Jack Sommersby; he wasn't willing to "resurrect" that wicked loser, even at the cost of his life.

And (4.) If jack was proved to be Horace, and was released, another court would have arrested him on the grounds that he was a liar, an impostor and a thief. That court would NOT have released him on the grounds that he had found love and done charitable things while impersonating a dead man. He would have gone to prison and possibly even died for his actual crimes.

So dying for a cause he believed in, for people who respected him, made more sense than dying without any honor or legacy whatsoever.

There's a clever idea serving as the basis for this film: A farmer returns to his village after fighting in the American Civil War and subsequently being imprisoned for desertion, and turns out to be a much better and compassionate husband and townsman than he was before he left. What has made him change? The period elements are well done initially, and the story is told with an agreeable rhythm by director Jon Amiel (later of Copycat and Entrapment). With a big budget and stars Richard Gere and Jodie Foster trying their hand at the 1800s for the first time, there's a lot at stake for Sommersby. And it ultimately shows, because the picture plays it safer and safer as we get closer and closer to the denouement of the mystery. There's a drawn out segment from a courtroom which feels more like the 1993 version of Richard Gere explaining the plot of a period picture than the charged climax it should have been. Gere and Foster are fine in the interpersonal segments and the everyday life in the village, but they cannot help coming off as anachronistic during said trial. It's partly Amiel's fault, of course - he strips away the story's edge and pain and replaces it with a docile romance aesthetic. Based on the 1982 French film Le Retour de Martin Guerre, which in turn was based on real events from the 16th century.

In events occuring before the time line in the story, Homer meets and gets to know his double, Jack Sommersby, in a Civil War prison. When Jack dies, Homer decides (for reasons barely hinted at) to impersonate Jack and take up his life where it had left off before the war six years earlier.

Viewers who have trouble accepting this story's basic premise and its subplots must not understand denial, the strongest defense mechanism of all. Laurel believes the returning soldier to be her missing husband because she wants to -- as does her son, and indeed the whole town (with a few menacing exceptions). This new guy is nicer than the other one. He is good to his wife, his kid, and his poor struggling neighbors, inspiring them all to work together to save the community at large from certain starvation if things do not change. In short, they all *need* this Jack Sommersby; therefore, he must *be* Jack Sommersby.

When folks are in denial -- does anybody not believe in mass hysteria? -- discrepancies are often overlooked, and reality is suspended. If that is hard to swallow, then consider that some folks were well aware of Homer's impersonation (if not his true identity), but chose to ignore it because it was in their best interests to do so.

The courtroom situation is another area where viewers have remarked on non-reality. But this may be chalked up to historical artifact. With today's high levels of movie/TV courtroom drama, and even genuine courtroom TV, this century's viewing audiences are far more sophisticated than the actual participants of court proceedings of the mid-19th Century, even among many lawyers and judges of the era. I had no trouble believing the courtroom of a small, largely uneducated community might have gone just the way it did in this movie... ...except for one thing, where all belief is suspended: the black judge, presiding over a southern courtroom, just after the Civil War. If there actually were any black judges in existence then, my guess would be that, like the few practicing black MD's, they were restricted to cases involving blacks, Native Americans, etc -- and not the trial of a white (and formerly rich) landowner.

Yet this plot device does not get in the way of my enjoyment of the movie over all. The judge strives mightily to be impartial, even with those townspeople who would not be so with him. Their rabid hatred of his race cries out for justice; therefore, the judge appears to provide it, with almost comic relief, precisely at a point when the tension demands it.

A haunting, well-told tale for those who appreciate depth of character over high-paced action for its own sake.