Desonra

I have read the book and found it extremely bleak. I agree the film is (almost reverentially) faithful to the book, which is not necessarily a good thing. Many a good book has been the basis for a bad film (and vice versa). My main gripe concerns the casting of Malkovich, an actor I have admired - for example, he made a superb Ripley and was brilliant in Liaisons Dangereuses. However, in this film he was creepy, cold and unpleasant. Another actor would have given the character more emotional depth, but he failed to give the slightest indication that David cared about anyone but himself. I felt no involvement with the character and could not have cared less what ultimately became of him. Maybe it was a directing problem. But to me, Malkovich was wrong in every way, including being physically unattractive, for this role.

Being John Malkovich means you can make this sort of fairly unpleasant and often disturbing dark tale into both an actor's piece and a reasonably good movie, from what is a bit of a dog's ear, which I saw on BBC1.

Few do contemptible sneering the way that Malkovich can and as in his best roles, he's a suitably complex nasty piece of work, emotionally shallow and morally drowning, we see him fall from what grace he had - and into the disgrace of the title.

Set in post Apartheid South Africa, the location is unusual as are the economic and political set-ups, creating an intriguing if beguiling premise. It's based on the Booker Prize-winning novel by J M Coetzee and ably directed by Steve Jacobs, of which this is his second only feature.

After the suicide of the young female mixed-race student, who had had a sexual relationship with white university lecturer David Lurie (Malkovich), the English professor is sacked. Finding he has no option, he goes to live with his lesbian daughter on a remote farm in the bush. Both willing to fit in and help to protect his own interests Lurie tries to accept both his fate and the set-up he has to tolerate, while the ever presence of black odd-job worker Petrus (Eriq Ebouaney) both irritates and underscores the whole black/white power struggle that resonates throughout the film.

Just as the film settles, some very nasty things happen and these are, frankly, unpleasant and difficult to sit through, with no restraints on graphic details. He's set on fire, pet dogs slaughtered and a rape. All done by black youths, seemingly on a whim.

Get past these though and the you will be rewarded; not in a film of great triumph and people changed and redeemed, riding off into the sunset but a slow realisation that life is just that and one has to admit personal shortfalls and to live with that. Disgrace is a fairly memorable film (maybe some of the parts more than the whole) but isn't one I particularly wish to see again, so the DVD won't be on my Christmas wish-list. For those who like and appreciate a challenging, well acted and modern human drama, it has a lot going for it.

After having read J.M. Coetzee's complex, disturbing, shocking and controversial novel, one could not directly see how this story could be transformed into an appealing screenplay and still less into a convincing movie. It's heavily charged with all kind of sexual contacts, unforced and forced ones (by someone who is in a dominating position) and even with pure rape. It deals also with the eventual outcome of those contacts, like pregnancy and parental love. Moreover, the story unfolds against the violent background of open racism in a country known for its apartheid.

Steve Jacobs did a formidable job in turning the harsh and sometimes bitter and terrible realities into a moving, emotional and ultimately sublime movie, which matches the book. The director was impressively helped by his cast and in the first place by John Malkovich, whose (physical! and mental) interpretation of the very uninviting character of a sexually driven university professor is certainly one of his most memorable. He was superbly seconded by Jessica Haines as his fiercely independent daughter as well as by the rest of the cast.

A must see for all movie lovers and for all admirers J. M. Coetzee's work.

The motivations of this cast of characters is practically unfathomable. Playing against all reasonable expectations about human nature seems to be the point, here. This is an ugly, depressing movie about extremely neurotic people, none of whom elicit an ounce of sympathy. These people live in a society where "getting along" trumps pride and self respect. They are so world-weary, presumably from the black-white violence of their recent past that that will degrade and humiliate themselves just to maintain peace. It's not noble, it's not sensible, and it's very depressing. Why did the young black girl student, in the beginning of the story allow herself to be, essentially, raped by this odious troglodyte of a poetry teacher? She obviously didn't like him at all. Are we supposed to believe these blacks in South Africa have a slave mentality that prevents them from resisting a white man? I don't believe that for a moment. And how could the Malkovich character, so contrite about what he's done to the girl that he prostrates himself on the floor and apologizes to her mother—how does that attitude square with his seduction of the veterinarian woman without any regard for the feelings of her husband? And it goes on and on, all against a painful, callous background of dog euthanasia. Disgusting.

I haven't read the award-winning book on which it is based, but Steve Jacob's film 'Disgrace' is a thoughtful and intelligent story about wrongdoing and reconciliation that quite explicitly functions as a microcosm of post-Apartheid South Africa and its relationship with its own past. In it, John Malkovich's disgraced, womanising and cynical ex-University professor comes to understand the value of offering contrition (when reparation is not obviously a feasible outcome) after his daughter is attacked and there is nothing corresponding to justice available for her. Indeed, she lives (in the remote highlands) where the very basis of power (which is ultimately needed to support justice) is undergoing a practical (though ugly) renegotiation, and the attack itself is seen (by her, though not by her father) in this context. The fact that both the professor and his daughter are, in their own ways, prickly and proud characters, makes the story more interesting; and the temptation for melodrama is resisted at every turn (indeed, while the most obviously dramatic scenes are being played out, the bigger event is occurring off-camera). It takes a lot of discipline to make a film this way; but there's a pay off - it feels real throughout, and makes you think by avoiding all the easy clichés.