Em Roma na Primavera

It must have been an interesting film to attract such an array of comment which both support the film and criticises it. The interest for me lies not in the fact that it is of itself a good film or a bad film, nor in the fact that it is a remake of a Beatty/Leigh film. The interest lies in the fact that such a range of comments both approving and disapproving could be made about the performances of the actors, including Dennehy, with such vehemence. I must say that I do not find comments like; "He's hot! He gets to take his shirt off a lot" any more an objective comment about acting ability than Leigh was much better at acting 'the neurotic' than Mirren because that wasn't acting either, she really was that way! Williams often concentrates upon characters who are emotionally fractured or ragged: Kowolski in "... Streetcar ..." and Laura Wingfield in " ... Menagerie." Karen Stone is likewise emotionally frail. Cossetted by a rich husband for years and harbouring doubts about her acting talent, she is also physically unfulfilled. When her husband apologises to her for not fulfilling the physical role in their marriage, she retorts: "If I'd wanted to behave like an animal, I would have married an animal" but clearly she does want to behave like an animal as is evidenced by a string of marcetta that escort her in Rome. She is damaged goods, She is emotionally scarred and physically and emotionally vulnerable, a fact recognised by the Contessa, a vengeful, embittered, exploitative, parasitic harpy, whose business it is to know these things and arrange for a remedy. Ironically, Karen is anything but hardened like stone, whatever her name suggests. She embarks on a series of assignations culminating in Paolo, an arrogant aristocrat whose genius for story-telling rivals the Brothers Grimm. We cannot be sure he is even a Conte, when Karen attempts to phone him using the number on the gilt-edged card he has given her, the line rings strangely, but not unexpectedly, dead. Nor is Karen Stone unaware of what is going on. She remarks upon the series of young men that the Contessa has supplied, all of whom coincidentally had some friend in dire (fiscal) need. But she is content to be 'shook down' (to a degree) in order to have the attention of these attractive young men who could and would do with enthusiasm what her husband could not. I wanted to shake the woman, not for her stupidity because she wasn't stupid, but for her susceptibility and vulnerability. I wanted to say: "Act you age, woman, you're making a fool of yourself." Mirren's eyes flicker almost imperceptibly when Paolo changes his story about the six brigade members who were killed. First, they were killed "on the plains of Africa" but hours later they were killed "on the boat". He doesn't bat an eyelid, she does! But neither of them seem to care. He is so self-assured in his supposed aristocratic arrogance and she is so needy, the lie passes.

Williams's preoccupations were generally local, or at least American. In this story, however, he has introduced a European/American theme and I wondered if Williams had not been recently reading some Henry James. Here we have the American ingenue confronted by the might and deviousness of the European sophistication and tradition. The Italians may be impoverished, they may be reduced to running scams and fixing up lonely ladies with gigolos, they may be living in penury and have to beg but they have the weight of the European tradition and culture to support them in adversity. So the age of Rome is mentioned at least twice, overstating its age by some hundreds of years, and Paolo draws attention to the oldest street in the city. Whether it is or not, it serves his purpose to say it is. But to Karen he says: "You are only fifty years old" which to her should be an unspoken criticism, and shocks her that he should say it aloud. But he is really saying: You Americans have no history compared to us", a sentiment espoused earlier by the Contessa who opines that any country with less than 400 years of history, has no tradition. We see in advance the pathetic contempt that the vanquished European has for the triumphant ( and sometimes triumphal) American. It is fully articulated in the last scene with the Contessa in a bitter attack born of frustration. Without assessing the relative moralities of Karen Stone or the Contessa or Paolo, it is the American who morally crumbles at the end, inviting an unwashed, unkempt, possibly very smelly young man (he's a bit too old to be an 'urchin') into her bedroom. Her degradation is complete. It doesn't require anyone to murder her. She is already destroyed. The Italians still have their culture, traditions, and history to fall back on.

Much has been said of the acting of various characters so I don't want to comment on this other than to say that Olivier Martinez seems to have received special attention for being wooden. Having not seen him in anything else, it's hard to make a comprehensive statement about his acting but I thought he conveyed the stiffness and arrogance that one would expect of a 'titled' person. Others may disagree.

An intelligent and multi-layered treatment of the 1961 film classic from Tennessee Williams. Helen Mirren gives one of her best performances. All the casting works well. The pacing and cinematography is beautiful. John Altman's music is brooding and portends of the emptiness and tragic self-discovery that Mrs. Stone will ultimately find herself facing. Nice job Showtime. Please consider a DVD offering.

Since the other users have provided details, ad nauseam, I will only say that Mirren seems to be channeling Vivien Leigh at times, especially in the last half. Many mannerisms are nearly identical to Leigh's actions in the 1961 studio version.

Also, strangely enough, I prefer the sound stage artifice of the 1960s. This cable movie was actually filmed on location, but in muted, boring colors. The 1961 feature has the wonderful Technicolor hues.

I found the actor portraying The Young Man/stalker to be far more sexy than Martinez's Paolo, even though he eats food off the ground, urinates in public, hacks up phlegm and never speaks.

Bancroft is fine, although I would have loved to have seen Sophia Loren take a stab at it.

And will you cable movie directors STOP overusing the "atmospheric" smoke machines?!! It looks like your entire film crew was smoking cigarettes during the interior scenes.

The remaking of an old movie is justified if something is brought to it which was lacking in the original. The 1961 "Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone" was not an entirely successful venture. Unlike most of the other legendary Tennessee William's screen adaptations, "Roman Spring" originated as a novella rather than a play, making it trickier work for screenwriter Gavin Lambert. The relationship between ageing star and young gigolo could have been explored with greater candor. Despite the start quality of both Vivien Leigh and Warren Beatty there was a distinct lack of chemistry between the two.

There is no way a remake can escape comparison with the original. In every conceivable way this television remake is totally inferior. Casting Vivien Leigh in the role would have been mandatory at the time. Her unforgettable Blanche du Bois in William's "Streetcar Named Desire", together with her real life mental problems plus the last vestiges of her famed beauty would seemingly portend a great performance. But this all seemed to play against her in a mannered and predictable performance. Surely there is no lack of glamorous ageing stars of yesterday who could have had a field day with this role. Instead we have the distinctly unglamorous Helen Mirren, hopelessly miscast in a role she should have had the sense to turn down. A young Warren Beatty, working desperately hard at his Italian accent at least possessed virile sexiness, the stock of any self respecting gigolo. Here we have the pretty faced yet completely uncharismatic Olivier Martinez. There are hordes of spunky, hunky, and hopefully talented actors who could have injected a much needed dose of youthful bravado in this limp intergenerational affair. With this lackluster couple given center stage the movie is hopelessly sunk.

In the original, the Contessa, a pimp of inordinate greed, was played by Lotte Lenya with a thin veneer of social grace masking a menacing viciousness. Her scenes are the finest in the movie. Whoever cast the role in this remake must have thought the choice of Anne Bancroft as the Contessa especially adroit, with the expectation that she would tap into her Italian heritage. What they did not take into account were the many years spent in the company of Mel Brooks, plus a number of Jewish mother roles under her belt. There are moments when you may expect her to offer the gigolo in her stable a bowl of chicken soup while bemoaning the starving children in some far off country. It's a performance that makes one wince, especially with the memory of the inimitable Lenya.

Despite it's faults, the original "Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone" remains completely untouched by this pale and spiritless facsimile.

This beautifully costumed and photographed update of the 1961 film is vibrant, honest, and wonderfully acted. Helen Mirren's performance as the aging actress is at times playful, as when she brushes off an old "friend" with a lie about having a tumor, and heart-breaking as when her eyes travel from the perfect body of her lover to her own arms and then breaks down. Unlike most Tennessee Williams' works, "Stone" relies more on silences than on dialogue. Mirren registers every step in Karen's journey from humiliated actress to grieving widow to woman in love to woman scorned. Anne Bancroft, as the Countess, is also dead-on. Her arch manipulation of Karen conceals a passionate outrage at her own poverty that pours out with devastating effect in the film's final moments. Martinez and Santoro as the two young men are also effective.