O Amante de Lady Chatterley

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.

I truly do not understand why this movie is so reviled. I have read all D. H. Lawrence and most people fail (or do not wish to) understand that his main purpose was the study of social inequities and their devastating effect on British Society in the early 20th Century. All is work tends to illustrate that. Lady Chatterley's Lover is a prime example of that beyond the scandal around its publication. It is the first time that I truly see this aspect in an adaptation as well as the sex not being necessarily pretty and romantic. Their relationship is the closest one to the book I have ever seen. So haters pass your way, the cast, direction, cinematography everything rings true.

So sweet! I don't think I have seen anything that looks this gorgeous and beautiful and amazing in a long long long long long time! I have listened to the audio-book and it seems to have changed the ending and yeah some of the narrative which I find to be a lil' too invasive in the novel is removed here, but the ending here is so sweet! I loved it so much! I have to say! The two very different mediums and similar stories but I think the endings is what sets this apart, the journey experience are both really wonderful this is really neat and tight while the book is thorough and you learn a lot from the wise narrative but to look at! Wow! This is extra-ordinary! Really stunning! The director here did a fine fine fine very fine job! Exquisite! Thank-you Netflix!

This Netflix dud ruined my favorite novel. First of all, I hated the camera work. Cold hues of blues throughout, in a story about sensual love? Then it was wildly miscast and mis-directed. Corrin was too skinny, neither she nor Mellors exuded any sensuality, and had no chemistry. A young anorexic filmed in hues of blue in a story of sexual passion? Very misguided. No buildup of tension between Connie and Mellors at the onset of their relationship. Then, when they go at it, Connie looks like she is 14 and Mellors like he is 16. Clifford is a cardboard character.

The wit of the novel was put in the grinder. The costumes were too modern and 'on the nose' (see the red day dress). The dialogues mediocre, the sex scenes either cringing or just dull. So the directing was just terrible - and I am surprised at the high ratings offered by the supposed critics. Even more surprised with the fact that a team of Creative Execs at Netflix greenlit such a dud on the basis of the well-known actors.

And what is the matter with all the anorexic young British actresses? In the Crown season 5, the new Diana (played by Elisabeth Debicki is also anorexic and about 20 pounds skinnier than the rea Diana). When Corrin takes off her top and looks at herself and her naked breasts in the mirror she looks like freshly out of Auschwitz. I imagine the casting directors are pressuring young actresses to be so skinny, but someone should stop this fad.

So, no emotion for story and characters until like the last 15 mins.