REVIEW: THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY (1996)
Scott Renshaw
THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY
A film review by Scott Renshaw
Copyright 1997 Scott Renshaw
(Gramercy)
Starring: Nicole Kidman, John Malkovich, Barbara Hershey, Martin Donovan,
Mary-Louise Parker, Richard E. Grant, Valentina Cervi, Viggo Mortensen.
Screenplay: Laura Jones, based on the novel by Henry James.
Producers: Monty Montgomery, Steve Golin.
Director: Jane Campion.
MPAA Rating: PG-13 (brief nudity, adult themes)
Running Time: 145 minutes.
Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
Directors, both cinematic and theatrical, face their greatest
challenges when dealing with "classic" material, and not just because
audience familiarity with the text makes every step a potentially
treacherous one. No, the real temptation is to go too far in an attempt
to make the material -- pronounce the following word dripping with sarcasm
-- "relevant." Never mind that the text most likely achieved its lofty
status because its themes transcend the socio-political flavor of the
month; the director is determined to give it a contemporary spin. The
irony of Jane Campion's adaptation of Henry James' THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY
is that Campion treats the narrative, a narrative with an intrinsic
emotional force, with meticulous faithfulness, while her heavy hand as a
director inspires plenty of head-shaking.
THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY is the story of Isabel Archer (Nicole Kidman),
a young American woman living in England with her aunt and uncle, the
Touchetts (Shelley Winters and John Gielgud), and her cousin Ralph (Martin
Donovan) after the death of her own parents. The independent and
strong-willed Isabel attracts several suitors, including Lord Warburton
(Richard E. Grant) and Caspar Goodwood (Viggo Mortensen), but she rejects
them all out of a desire to experience life before being constrained in
marriage. Her opportunities for experience are increased when the elder
Mr. Touchett dies and leaves her a sizeable inheritance, allowing her to
interact with European society. Among her companions is Madame Merle
(Barbara Hershey), who introduces Isabel to a gentleman named Gilbert
Osmond (John Malkovich). Osmond intrigues Isabel, and the two eventually
marry, but when Osmond reveals his true nature Isabel must struggle to
maintain her sense of self.
Campion opens THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY with voice-overs of modern women
discussing their thoughts on romantic love, followed by a credits sequence
featuring black-and-white images of women (we assume the same ones we just
heard) just hanging out together in nature. The images set up a "this is
now/that was then" dichotomy which makes Isabel the object of a kind of
anachronistic pity; "The poor dear," we are told metaphorically, "if only
she had been born 100 years later." Campion certainly sympathizes with
female characters who seem trapped by societal proscriptions (like the
heroines of AN ANGEL AT MY TABLE and THE PIANO), but nearly every
interpretation of Isabel feels misguided and simplistic. The central
question of why Isabel marries Osmond is addressed with a pair of fantasy
sequences which make the jarring suggestion that her tragic decision was
the product of good old-fashioned lust. That notion might have been
easier to stomach if Osmond had been played by anyone other than John
Malkovich. Malkovich has turned the aloof Lothario into his stock
character, but the portrayal has become more chilly than chilling. When
Osmond is supposed to be seductive, he seems bored, and Isabel's actions
make no sense.
If the decision to marry Osmond is given a questionable treatment,
the decision to stay with him is given a merely annoying one. After
filling THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY with images of bars, gates, slamming doors
and barriers of all kinds, Campion has Isabel stymied by a locked door as
the film ends. It is a perfectly valid interpretation to suggest that
Isabel had no choice; it may also be the least interesting one. After
hammering away at us with the restrictive nature of Isabel's 19th century
world for two and a half hours (and at times you can feel every minute of
it), it feels like a cheat for her to rehash the same point when
addressing the most compelling enigma the novel has to offer.
It is all the more frustrating because there are so many other things
THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY does right. With the exception of Malkovich, the
casting is superb, including Nicole Kidman as the wide-eyed innocent
abroad with the ERASERHEAD hairdo. Barbara Hershey and screenwriter Laura
Jones to a particularly fine job with Madame Merle, a complex creature of
uncertain motivations. She becomes a great tragic figure, as manipulated
as she is manipulating, even if Campion sometimes seems determined to turn
her into DANGEROUS LIAISONS' Mme. de Merteuil to Malkovich's recycled
Valmont. Martin Donovan is also quite good as the consumptive,
kind-hearted Ralph, and Mary-Louise Parker has a delightful bluntness as
Isabel's American friend Henrietta. The production offers a variety of
pleasures, notably Stuart Dryburgh's impressive photography, but Campion
flattens the most involving stories in THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY. James'
clash of American and European sensibilities becomes Campion's clash of
19th century and 20th century sensibilities. The result is essentially a
cautionary tale which only matters if you plan on doing any time travel,
or a film treatment of a hypothetical prequel: "Smart Women Who Make
Foolish Choices: The Early Years."
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 past imperfects: 5.
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