The Designated Mourner

Before you consider renting this, consider the fact that it is a filmed stage play consisting of three people at a table talking not to each other but to the person watching.

Nobody here has mentioned the coloring of each scene. There is some significance here.

If you enjoy a true exercise in using your little grey cells, you will enjoy this. If you enjoy watching skilled actors talking ideas, you will enjoy it.

Don't look for action or plot. This is only for people who love thinking, who are able to live in the world of the mind.

'The Designated Mourner', a play by Wallace Shawn, is above all else an exercise in writing. Three people (in this adaptation by David Hare, sat statically throughout in one of two locations, one of which appears to be a television news desk, the other a table in a small café), discuss their relationship. But although they respond to each other in tone, they rarely directly address the subject material that the others refer to; and the wider backdrop to their personal story, a crypto-fascist coup, is mentioned only elliptically by all three participants, just as it might be in real conversation where certain things would be taken as known. But there's little that's naturalistic or conventionally conversational about these carefully constructed interlaced monologues; they better represent the inner voices of self-justification (or alternatively, the voices of published autobiography). In spite of the artifice, one does develop a sophisticated sense for the nuances of the trio's characters; everyone has an agenda, and deciphering the three unreliable narrators is exactly the point. Thi particular film of the play is well acted, and it's probably sensible that Hare has chosen to add very little to the basic script (having made this decision, almost his only work as director is to choose when to cut between alternative close-ups). But while theatre has to work within certain intrinsic limitations (and offers you the benefits of live performance as a compensation), cinema does not and in this sense, this seems a strange work to put on screen. Nonetheless, it's still an interesting experiment, and worth watching if you like your drama wordy and cerebral.

This is a very funny film, especially for anyone who has been to a University party with self congratulatory, self aggrandising pretentious smart alecs. The whole film is done in the same 'high-brow' style whether it is the weepy self pity and anguish of Judy or the prurient, ignorant, though arguably more accessible filth of Jack. This is VERY trying, it is what turns most people off the film but is also entirely the point. This film would have been better served if it had been a lot shorter as it would have made the same points and been more accessible at the same time. The main benefit of it's length is the increased time to include the snappy one liners that helped to lighten the mood of the monotony.

Three characters sit at table, taking turns speaking directly to the camera, talking of courage and cowardice in a time of repression, in an unspecified yet intuitively recognizable place and time not far from our own.

Shawn's virtuoso writing (far more nuanced than a short summary can convey) meditates on the hairsplitting liberal in us all, as 'the last people who really understand John Donne' are casually wiped out in the interest of 'fighting terrorism'.

As for the lack of action: yes, maybe it's really a radio play, but every actor or actress should *see* Mike Nichols, who gives an extraordinary, one-of-a-kind performance. Particularly, he breaks all the rules of "actor's diction," so he sounds just like a *real* person (say, being interviewed for a documentary). Not an effect you can use just anywhere, but brilliant here.

A drama of evolving inconsequence may evoke a certain appeal, as we hear the meandering rambling from one to another, the authors describe each other and themselves, analyze and criticize without arriving at any apparent conclusion or plateau of resolution. A seemingly unapparent effort in arousing suspicion amongst it's audience-in an effort to suggest a deeper meaning, a plot or subtext (this quite obviously is non existent) And yet, they continue to groan and meet with more intimate resolution as the 'play' takes a more detailed step forward, only to be rudely interrupted by their chief protagonist 'Jack' The whole affair reminds me of production meeting of a fictitious film company, with fictitious goals, offering pointless objectives based upon circumstances manipulated at their leisure as a means to perpetuate their overtly pointless existences. Still, it inspires writing in others, and indicates a challenge to conventional wisdom of broadcasting commissioners.

Overwhelmingly describes the tedious equation of life over time, as seen through the eyes of the oppressed middle classes, with no drive or enthusiasm remaining-or perhaps they are simply too boring to inject the juice into their lives once more.

Did somebody die?-I forget

If you manage to read this review and find your brain elsewhere by the second paragraph, do yourself a favor- rent Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey!