VivienLeighsnumber1fan

"Far from Heaven" is Todd Haynes' homage and attempt to recreate what was called, in the 50's and 60's, a "weepie," a domestic melodrama with all the attendant production values: lush musical score, sumptuous costumes and a heroine with big concerns/problems mostly having to do with Love, Family and usually both. Think "Written on the Wind," "Magnificent Obsession" or "All that Heaven Allows." The problem with this kind of a venture is that in order for it to work it must be handled in a non-ironic, straightforward manner. Haynes's and his actors succeed most but not 100% of the time. The very nature of an enterprise like this calls for a somewhat arch and precise acting technique as we are dealing with a dead genre probably farther removed from our 2002 reality than are Shakespeare's plays. Like the best of these films, "Far from Heaven" can be unbelievably moving; when we are not only marveling at the gorgeous mise en scene but when the superior acting abilities of the amazing Julianne Moore as Cathy shine through. Cathy and her husband Frank (Dennis Quaid) lead a tranquil life in Connecticut where beautiful and well-put together Cathy is slowly withering away, being eaten alive by the fact that her perfect life is irrevocably punctured when she catches her husband in the arms of another man. But this is not all. Cathy's natural openness towards everyone she comes across as well as her empathy for other races specifically her African American gardener Raymond (Dennis Haysbert) is also causing gossip among her friends and her neighbors. The outwardly disapproving and disgusted looks on the townspeople's faces when Cathy is with Raymond are laughable in one way but in another really goes to the heart of race relations then as well as now. Has much changed in this regard in the last 44 years? There is a very poignant scene in which Frank slaps Cathy across the face and Cathy, always the understanding one, reassures him that all is "fine" but then pathetically asks him to bring her some ice to quell the swelling. She tells her friend, Eleonor (played immaculately by Patricia Clarkson): "Frank didn't mean to hit me." Frank, in a kind of homosexual panic, lashes out at Cathy, the one person who loves and accepts him; as well as the one who reminds him on a daily basis that his love for her is a lie. The scene in which Frank asks Cathy for a divorce is a stunner: watch Moore's eyes and body language. Even when her heart seems about to explode, her eyes remain dry, calm and understanding even in this harrowing and unspeakable situation. So as not to portray her as the ultimate victim, Haynes has smartly imbued Cathy with a strong desire to change from the all accepting, never questioning woman she's been to the strong, independent woman she aches to become. Her heartbreaking attempts to contact the N.A.A.C.P to volunteer are both incredibly naïve yet strongly sympathetic. Heaven to Cathy Whitaker is a place in which she is always loved, always valued, forever cherished. Nothing could be more basic yet more unattainable whether it be 1957 or 2002.

10/10

2002 107 min. Rated: PG-13

To me, the premise of "The Hours" was a little intimidating to me before I finally managed to see the film: Three women are linked through three time periods to Virginia Woolf's novel 'Mrs. Dalloway'. I was concerned that my blazing ignorance to Ms. Woolf's work, and this one in particular, would hinder my enjoyment of the film and my ability to understand it. Not so. Yes, 'Mrs. Dalloway' was at the root of the three stories presented, but everything you need to know is in the film. This is it, basically: Mrs. Dalloway decides one morning -- the morning of a party she is throwing -- that she will buy the flowers herself. Though she projects the appearance of togetherness and cheer, she is a lonely, empty woman inside. Oh, and someone dies at the end. That's it.

In "The Hours", we meet three women. First is Virginia herself (Nicole Kidman), and our introduction comes in the form of her 1941 suicide at the age of 59. A feminist Ophelia, she places a stone in her dress pocket, walks to a nearby stream, and lets it carry her away. Her brief, mortal stroll is voiced-over by her suicide letter, which explains to her husband that this act of desperation is to spare him the madness she feels is returning. The rest of her story takes place in 1923 as 'Mrs. Dalloway' is working its way out of her. Flashing forward to 1951, we see Laura Brown (Julianne Moore), depressed housewife of WWII veteran Dan (John C. Reilly) and mother of a young son. It's Dan's birthday, and Laura, in the middle of reading 'Mrs. Dalloway', decides that she will feel better today and bake a cake. Cut to 2001, and publisher Clarissa Vaughan (Meryl Streep) is preparing a reception for author and friend (and long-ago lover) Richard (Ed Harris). Richard has just won a prestigious poetry award but is too ill from AIDS and related dementia to want to go to the party.

Each of these women are depressed. Each awakes and acquires flowers. Each has something special going on that day -- a party of sorts. Each of these women kisses another woman. They all face suicide, and they all face the choice between death and the imprisonment of life. They each make a choice. The variations on these choices, while sometimes disorienting, are exactingly faithful to each other. Sometimes they reveal themselves suddenly, consecutively. Other times they surface gradually, inconspicuously. Like Philip Glass' subtle, driving score, they build gracefully from a whisper into a cry and by film's end find themselves whispering again.

"The Hours" is a miracle of a movie. Literate, involving, active -- it is that rare film about women and their unique experiences that neither excludes nor condemns the role of men in their lives. The men of "The Hours", Woolf' stoic and supportive husband (Stephen Dillane), Brown's husband and son, poet Richard, and his former lover Louis (Jeff Daniels) -- the sexual politics of the film are sometimes scattered but fascinating -- are innocent bystanders who, while making decisions to maintain or find their own happiness, neither victims nor devalue these unhappy women. Their depressions are unto themselves, and their lives entrap them in ways that their respective others cannot assist or understand.

All of the performances in "The Hours" are excellent, uniquely extraordinary, and utterly unforgettable. Ms. Kidman, unrecognizable behind a prosthetic nose, does more refined work here than I have ever seen from her. Her Woolf is depressed but never pitiful and always strong whatever the hardship. Ms. Moore, playing a very different '50s housewife from her "Far From Heaven" turn, gets it just right. In the midst of true depression, something as simple as baking a cake becomes an overwhelming, impossible task. Moore's battle with the cake is heartbreakingly sorrowful when she fails, yet somehow sadder when she gets it right. Ms. Streep, meanwhile, shows us again why she is Streep -- equally profound unraveling before the party and, in a devastating scene at the end, as she just listens to a voice from the past that puts things into perspective.

Sad, but never far from hope, "The Hours" not only also has an outstanding supporting cast (including Claire Danes, Allison Janney, Miranda Richardson) and superb direction from Stephen Daldry ("Billy Elliot"), it is also one of the finest films of 2003 and of recent memory. A great DVD must-own for any Nicole Kidman fan, any Julianne Moore fan, or even any Meryl Streep fan, BUT ESPECIALLY JULIANNE MOORE!!

10/10

2002 114 min. Rated: PG-13

The first time I saw the now famous poster for American Beauty was months before it opened. I was going down the escalator of a posh local multiplex, and there it was at the end of my descent. I looked at those red roses adorning an actresses midsection, and I remarked to a friend that this looked like a very special movie. I don't what it was about the artwork that made me say that, but it turned out to be an accurate remark. The movie opened in a limited engagement in September 1999 and went on to build and build. In March, it won Oscars in major categories - Best Picture, Best Actor [Kevin Spacey] and Best Director. At the time, there were some nay-sayers who said the film painted too dark a picture of American life. I won't debate this, but I will say that there are precedents in the Academy Awards. For example, Billy Wilder's The Apartment, a scathing comedy about how morally low some people will go to move up in corporate life, won Best Picture in 1961. Brilliant is brilliant, no matter what the subject is, and America has had a seriously cynical side to it for decades.

Welcome to the Burnham household. Meet Lester and Carolyn [Spacey and Annette Bening] and their lovely teenage daughter, Jane [Thora Birch]. The Burnhams have it all - the lucrative jobs, the topflight public schools, the perfect suburban home, the immaculate lawn with its borders of American beauty roses. What could possibly be missing from their lives? Oh, just little things like happiness and fulfillment. Lester and Carolyn certainly no longer love each other. Theirs is an uneasy truce. On the surface, Jane comes across as a snide and ungrateful child, but you have to ask yourself who wouldn't be eager to leave such a dismal scene? How often many of us point the finger at our children when what we are showing them are lives devoid of love, passion, honestly and integrity.

Jane is a cheerleader at the local high school, and one night the Burnhams decide to attend a game. They want to show support for their daughter, who truly doesn't want them there. Lester sees another cheerleader, a friend of Jane's, and instantly falls in lust. He becomes obsessed with the girl. He quits his job and blackmails his boss into giving him $60,000 severance pay. He buys a red Pontiac Firebird. Carolyn, who constantly berates herself for not being a success, retaliates by starting an affair with an arch rival in the real estate business. Their actions are not exactly what they appear to be. Lester's pursuit isn't all about an older man / young girl relationships. Its about the loss of youth and passion and about the dire consequences that can be spawned by living a whole lifetime of fitting in. Carolyn feels she has totally lost controlnot just of Lester and Jane, but of life as a whole. I think they are after the same answers, only Lester uses a brutally honest approach. And now Jane is really ready to split.

Compounding all these problems is the arrival of some strange new neighbors. Col. Frank Fitts is a retired Marine who's feelings are so repressed he's become a walking time bomb. His wife has retreated into a haunting, silent world of her own. Teenage son Ricky is obsessed with videotaping everything he encounters, including Jane. He supports his hobby by dealing vast quantities of dope. Soon Jane and Ricky have a thing going, and everything climaxes for all involved in one bizarre night of the most memorable and improabable miscommunications.

Is this a comedy or a drama? That's hard to say. Many viewers do not relate to the Burnhams specific problems, but they do identify with their general feelings. In laughing at them, many of us are laughing at ourselves. Take the problem of trying too hard to fit in. There is nothing wrong with doing this, unless you lose your own identity in the process. And many would agree that, while there is nothing fundamentally wrong with being American, there is currently something fundamentally wrong with American life. Personally, I think it has less to do with moral issues than it does with a basic spiritual emptiness that comes with being obsessed with external appearances and with material goods.

American Beauty is a brilliant movie and, to me, probably was the best American film of 1999. Like a few others before it, it stands uniquely on its own, owing very little to movies that came before it. I love the way it peels away the layers of the Burnhams' lives like onions. I admire its essentially nonjudgmental point of view. Best of all, I like the way that everyone is somehow redeemed at the end. Its a movie that makes you wish there were a few more great ones like it out there.