Mrs Dalloway

I appreciate this film for its technical quality, as well as its ambition in trying to film a novel that is written in the stream of consciousness style, however it fails overall because of Ms. Redgrave's performance. Her acting destroys the tone of the movie in a extremely jarring way; the contrast between her just-swallowed-a-bottle-of-Prozac happiness and the other plot lines and draws the viewer out of the experience of the film. The novel's tone is much darker and Clarissa's point-of- view much more based on regret, and more in sync with the post-traumatic-stress and depression of Septimus and the ennui and disenfranchisement of her daughter. Her performance wasn't only in the wrong tone, but it was incredibly phony; a viewer should never see acting happening. This is the same gripe I have with Rupert Grave's performance of Septimus; his acting is too stagy and I never truly believed him when shouting "EVANS! EVANS!"

Probably will be (and perhaps should be) the last time a film adaptation is made of this novel.

I enjoyed this movie very much, although I really loved the novel a bit more, but that's always the case it seems. Vanessa Redgrave and Natasha McElhone make a GREAT older/younger version of each other, and Rupert Graves gives a stellar performance as a young man dealing with the impact of war. This is a gently told tale, but it's done very well. Worth a look.

Everyone doesn't like everything, so I'm not surprised that some people find the movie of Mrs. Dalloway boring. They probably would find the book boring too. But it's depressing. So they won't agree with some of us who see the novel as one of the great works of the 20th century, and the film as a truly remarkable and beautiful capturing of it. The only touch I regretted was the opening of the film with the Septimus Warren-Smith war scenes. The opening really belongs with Mrs. D. and her first words, "I will buy the flowers myself." After that moment, it's a quiet day but a beautiful and sensitive one.

Virginia Woolf is thought of as a high-brow rather than popular novelist yet the novel this film is based on sold well when first published in 1924. It is easy to see why – there is nothing rarefied in the treatment of its themes, making choices and breaking with the past.

Clarissa Dalloway, a society matron, played with startled radiance by Vanessa Redgrave, is throwing a party and while making the arrangements she remembers back to the choice she made 30 years ago as a young woman between two men. One, Peter, charming, intelligent, adventurous, is the sort who went out and conquered India, or at least seduced the Major's wife. The other, Richard, good-looking, loving, a bit boofy, devoid of flair, is the sort that gravitates into politics. Naturally, the young Clarissa (played by Natasha Mc Elhone) has chosen the safe one, but Peter, after a chequered career, has turned up in London and pays her a call. She invites him to the party. Parallel to Clarisa's reminiscences is the story of Septimus (Rupert Graves) a returned soldier from World War I, whose wartime experiences are eating into his sanity.

Clarisa is put up as a `modern woman' who refuses Peter's love because she sees it as all demanding and all consuming, despite his attractive personality. Yet she accepts Richard, who wants and needs a dutiful, supportive wife. She also passes up the possibility of love with her close friend Sally. Though shaken when she hears of Stephen's fate from his psychiatrist, a guest at the party, and touched when she meets her old lovers again, she sees her life as going on before, safe and unexciting.

For a film-maker the amount of interior musing generated by Woolf's `stream of consciousness' writing technique presents a challenge and here Marleen Gorris has effectively used flashback to externalise Clarisa's memories. We get two stories artfully intercut, though there is not much tension in either of them - costumes, but not much drama. One does, however, get the feel of how it might have been to be in the upper class during the Edwardian late summer; as if just being there was enough (we even meet the Prime Minister at the party). Woolf and Gorris have evoked the atmosphere precisely, even if, as Lytton Strachey said, there isn't much of a plot. Even the minor characters sparkle. Robert Hardy as Sewell's psychiatist exudes bonhomie and guile, and Margaret Tyzak as the meddlesome Lady Bruton gives us a fine example of the old-fashioned female power broker at work. Overall, the film is rather slow, especially at the start, and I did wonder whether it would have been made without all the government and foundation money listed in the credits, but the quality of the performances redeem it to some extent.

This is a beautiful little film, which portrays the book admirably. When put up against its counterpart in The Hours I think it compares favourably. For sure it is a much smaller film in both stature and actor profiles, but this does not make it worse, in fact quite the contrary.

The English cast do a great job, on this essentially English story, with strong performances all around, notably from the leads from both eras. It is nicely shot, and the script has been well managed, and achievement for a Virginia Woolf novel.

I often find myself trying to pick out flaws in films like this, but the only possible complaint I can think of is the lack of continuity in height ratio between the leads over the two eras, petty some might say, and actually a small price you might expect to pay when you cast the wonderful Vanessa Redgrave.

I can't help feel sorry for those people who don't get this film. If Virginia Woolf isn't your cup of tea fair enough, but to think this and therefore the book is boring can only mean a lack of understanding or appreciation of Woolf's views on the point of life.

In essence when I watched this film it charmed me for an hour and a half, and then when it was finished left me questioning the value of my life, and important decision I had made, and was yet to make, which if you have ever read it is exactly what the book does.