Chez les heureux du monde

I'm not sure how this movie could get a bad review. Of course, there are those people who find its pace too slow. However, one must realize that this is a period drama; it's not meant to be an action-packed suspense thriller. Everything is subtle, but it is so beautifully prepared, thought out, and executed by all.

1. Were it for nothing else, the technical aspects of this film would have kept me watching until the very end. The music was perfectly placed to rise and fall with the internal emotions of the characters - especially Lily and Lawrence - and to express the turmoil of the social downfall of Lily. On top of that, you have phenomenal costumes and set with the most lavish colors. Lastly, and possibly what I found most fascinating about the film, was the lighting. it always seemed just bright enough or just dark enough to reflect the romance or dreariness. In addition, there is just not denying that the way the light fell upon Gillian Anderson in every, single scene is something I have never seen before.

2. The all-star cast! Gillian Anderson. Eric Stolz. Laura Linney. Anthony LaPaglia. Dan Akroyd. Do I have to go on? I can almost guarantee that you'll find yourself, at one point or another, yelling at the screen. These characters are so manipulative and deceitful and malicious. And Lily is so naive and just won't accept love when it's given!! I think the best thing about the cast and performances in this film is that watching the film and listening to it are 2 completely opposite experiences. The actors convey one thing with their faces and another with their voices; it's pure talent. I was amazed.

3. If nothing else, this film should watched purely for Gillian Anderson. This project was so different than her 'X Files' persona - and such a success, at that. The way she uses her eyes to express 5 different emotions in a matter of seconds blew me away. Her acting and utter vulnerability was awe-inspiring.

Along with Scorsese's, The Age of Innocence and Iain Softley's, The Wings of the Dove, Terence Davies' The House of Mirth forms a triumvirate of modern period drama for a discerning audience. Davies is not interested chiefly in either scenery or costume - that is, in history as a heritage theme-park - but in the story, its themes and characters, and in teasing out good performances from his cast. The modest budget of this film works in its favour. Most of the best scenes and shots are framed in intimacy, not lost amidst panoramas of superficial grandeur or the shallow aesthetics of Merchant-Ivory-style film making.

At the heart of Davies' film is Gillian Anderson's brilliant performance as Lilly Bart. Since she is on screen almost all of the time the film really stands or falls by her performance. She sheds her "X-Files" persona in moments and conveys an enormous range of subtle emotions as her character vacillates between an almost involuntary avarice and moral scruples, foolishness, charm, fortune and tragedy. The affect of Anderson's performance is lasting and deep. Indeed, this film lives on long in the memory and continued to trouble me for weeks after I had seen it.

Reviews of this movie seem to fall into few categories, loved it because of Gillian Anderson, loved it because of the book, loved it because it was dreamy, hated it because I just didn't get it, hated it because of Gillian Anderson, hated it because it wasn't the book, hated it because it had no Arnie and wasn't Armageddon.

If you can't follow Edwardian English, if you can't follow a movie with scene shifts without a subtitle that says "you are now in London", "You are now in New York", if you can't read emotions off of actor's faces even when their words contradict their feelings, well, you're going to hate this movie. If you need a driving soundtrack to tell you exactly what mood you're supposed to be feeling for each scene, you're going to hate this movie. If you can't accept the fact that flawed characters develop but don't always overcome in the end, you're going to hate this movie.

OK, now that the summer action flic viewers have stopped reading this review in disgust (just as they left this movie early), we can get on with the review. I think Gillian Anderson was a good pick for the part, and did a very good, if not quite excellent performance. Part of Guilded Age/Edwardian upper-crust behaviour was the semblance of civility under the most trying of circumstances, such as saying "Thank You" when you've just been fired or otherwise dissed. Add that to the stylized English and you end up having to PAY ATTENTION to understand what is going on to get it.

One of the brilliant aspects of casting is the Gillian Anderson pick. Instead of a brilliant blonde or smouldering brunette, you have a non-conventional look (short, voluptuos and red-headed) that jolts (and excites) the modern eye, but actually better fit in to the pre-Chanel standard of beauty of that time.

At its heart the novel is a morality tale, describing the pitfalls of being beautiful, manipulative and shallow while failing to be cunning and wise. Lily Bart is callous to her suitors at first, only to fall into multiple social traps. In the end she relies solely on her integrity and dignity, which is insufficient to extricate her from her circumstances. This may offend many who expect the heroine to prevail in the end due to a simple basic morality (which is there in Lily), perseverance (which is also there), a clever plot twist and a 40mm grenade launcher (both missing).

Lavish sets, beautiful backdrops, gorgeous costumes, good acting (with the possible exception of Akroyd), all make this a surreal, if sad, journey for the cognitively aware and patient. I say "possible exception" because of one subtext of the novel & movie is the interplay of the American Nuveau Riche and the old nobility of England and Europe. Thus the wealthy American Entrepeneurs are depicted as brutish and obvious, though this is tolerated in society because their path was already blazed in the 1890's by the first wave of gold miners, oil drillers and electric company tycoons that swept through Europe and married into storied, if not monies, bloodlines. Thus, Akroyd's blatant and crude manipulations and language are somewhat justified.

But, if you don't like period pieces, costume dramas, and identifying with wealthy people who have never worked a day in their lives, all this will be lost on you.

This is my favorite of all the Wharton novels adapted for the screen. The precision and depth with which the director and actors go is absolutely true to the novel in almost every respect.

Gillian Anderson is a revalation here, she perfectly captures the repression and pain of being a woman stuck in that time and place with no way out. You can feel her pain and torment in every quivering close up, and the passion contained in her kissing scenes (or to be more precise, her NON kissing- kissing scene) with Eric Stoltz is something to behold.

Eric Stoltz is equally amazing in one of the most complex and difficult roles for a man to play. I must disagree with the viewer from China, Mr. Seldon is NOT meant to be terribly "masculine" or "deep voiced" or "unbearably handsome"- those are modern readings that perhaps we expect from the role of the 'male hero' in modern films- but here Mr. Selden is written exactly as he is played- walking a fine line between what is correct behaviour for the time, and what he was or wasn't allowed to do in regards to her rescue. He is torn by love of Lilly Bart and the realization that he is not the right man for her, as the all important social scene would frown on their union. The actor portrays this ambiguity perfectly, and I for one found it a relief that the man didn't ride in and save the day in that cliched movie way.

I also must commend the supporting players of Anthony LaPaglia (whose role "Sim Rosedale" is originally written as a Jewish man, one of the few changes made to the n script adaption of the novel) and Laura Linney as Bertha Dorset, the 'bad girl' of the story. They both bring a life to the story that is rare to see in a period film, most actors seem to be too afraid or respectful of the material to really bring it to life.

I even enjoyed Dan Ackyroyd in a role that I didn't see him in or expect to like him in. I suppose my feelings about him are coloured by old Saturday Night Live shows, or Driving Miss Daisy, but I think he was terrific in a role that is not the most explored in the novel or the film.

Everything about this film held my interest and moved me, and I'm a very tough audience as far as Wharton goes. The pacing is indeed slow, but if you give yourself over to it it is like taking a warm bath in a quick shower world.

Very well done!

Director Terence Davies has done a magnificent job of recreating the turn of the century in "The House of Mirth," a 2000 film starring Gillian Anderson, Eric Stoltz, Dan Ackroyd, Laura Linney, Anthony LaPaglia, and Terry Kinney.

Anderson is Lily Bart, a beautiful young woman of good social standing, traveling in the best circles, who throws away her opportunities for a good marriage because she wants something more meaningful. However, her reputation begins to suffer due to her circle's misreading of an innocent situation, and things go from bad to worse for her as she descends down the social strata. She has it in her power to win back everything she has lost but refuses to stoop that low due to her love for one man.

It's obvious that Davies took a great deal of care with this film. It is not infused with modern sensibilities, the period look is authentic, as is the look of the cast. By that I mean, Gillian Anderson's sumptuous red hair, full beautiful face, and lovely figure are much more period than, say, Gwyneth Paltrow's -- and yet films are rarely cast with an eye toward capturing the period in that way. The casting of Dan Ackroyd as Trenor is unusual but very right - he's not truly of the class he travels in and a real glad-hander. Eric Stoltz is Selden - handsome without being drop dead gorgeous, gentile without being effeminate, who has good chemistry with Anderson.

The villainess of the piece is Laura Linney as the awful Bertha Dorset, a cunning witch, and as usual, Linney is perfection -- smiling, subtle, and you can just see the knife going in. In the book she is more responsible for Lily's troubles than in the film. In the film, we see her making initial trouble for Lily; in the book, she continues to work on destroying her with a whisper here and word there.

What makes the story of Lily so frustrating is that she can ruin Bertha in five minutes but refuses, suffering instead, which drove me crazy. That's not the film's fault.

This was an era where no one expressed emotions, so when someone says, thank you or I understand, there is a world of meaning to be read in the eyes. It's a world of artifice, and Davies obviously worked at getting this from his actors. Everything is in what lies beneath.

The acting is uniformly excellent; only Gillian Anderson falls a little short of the mark. Lily is an extremely difficult role, and Anderson at least in 2000 did not have all the necessary skill to completely pull it off. She has the look, the bearing, and the intelligence. What she lacks is the ability to actually become someone of that era, rather than putting it on like an overcoat. She does much better in the latter part of the film, which calls for a different set of acting muscles than in the beginning.

Reminiscent a bit of "Sister Carrie," "The House of Mirth" points up the difficulties of women in that time period to make their way, of the boundaries of class, and the rigidity of the upper class. Highly recommended, but not an easy, cheerful film by any means.