A worthy movie for adults. The plot is a bit like "Last Tango in Paris," with a man and woman accidentally meeting, then showing up one afternoon a week for some rabid sex, neither telling the other anything about themselves. The guy (Mark Rylance) decides to follow the woman (Kerry Fox), discovers she's married and works in a shabby theater, and is married to a not-overly-bright man who has too many chins and a puffy lower lip like Alfred Hitchcock's. Both of the men want her and she decides to stay with her husband and children. End of plot.
This is about as deglamorized a movie as has recently appeared. At first, both Rylance and Fox look like the kind of people who are right up there in the first rank of the third rate. He runs a bar. He's balding, skinny, always needs a shave, and lives alone in some seedy dump that looks like a Soviet-era zheloy dom. She first appears with her hair up, working-class style, glumly groomed. And the two of them are photographed -- dressed or otherwise -- in a way that makes their skin seem to emit a pale sickly blue. Your first thought is liable to be a red flag: This is going to be one depressing flick.
Then as the plot develops -- hard as it is to follow in its details -- we come to know them surprisingly well, the two of them. Rylance takes on a certain pathetic charm with his scarred eyebrow and occasional stutter. And Kerry Fox lets her hair down, literally, and we can see the self-knowledge and the desire in her big blue New Zealand eyes. They become likable.
In many ways the most admirable person important to the story is Timothy Spall as Kerry's husband, the Hitchcockian cab driver. He's not particularly bright and he trusts people a bit too much. And, man, he looks unprepossessing. But he's gregarious, generous, good-natured, and as harmless as a child. When he discovers that Rylance and Fox have been boffing each other, what does he do? Does he pick up a gun and spray lead. Does he do a plastic-surgery number on Rylance's face? Nope. He goes round to Rylance's bar, has a beer, and tells Rylance that he loves his wife. And that every day he loves her more. Later, when Fox prompts him to ventilate his anger over her affair, all he can come up with is something like, "I don't care about that s***! What really bothers me is that you're a lousy actress and will never be anything else!" When he's done shouting, she replies, "You don't even know how to hurt me." There are other characters in the story too -- children, an ex-wife, somebody named Victor with a Scots accent, and a gay French bartender who philosophizes a lot. (I wonder if the writers had a particular model in mind.) Next to Kerry's husband, the French guy is about the most articulate of the bunch.
But that's the problem with the movie. I was frankly lost at times. I honestly don't know how Spall's character found out about his wife's affair. Evidently she confirmed suspicions he already had, but since the scene doesn't appear on screen we have to guess. In fact, if the love scenes are speechless, the rest of the script isn't much better. More than once a character says to another, "I can't understand a word you're saying." Sometimes I couldn't either. "We shouldn't be gay because someone died." "Nobody died." "I died once. It was the only day I could tell the whole truth." I think we're in "Last Year at Marienbad" territory here. A shouting match between Rylance and Kerry in the basement theater made no sense to me at all. It reminded me of my marriage.
I recommend it though. It's a rare movie made for adults. It's a challenging drama about lives that are either half empty or half full, depending on how you look at them. The ending is sad, but we are at least left with the hope that these characters can mend their tattered lives and get on with things.
This is about as deglamorized a movie as has recently appeared. At first, both Rylance and Fox look like the kind of people who are right up there in the first rank of the third rate. He runs a bar. He's balding, skinny, always needs a shave, and lives alone in some seedy dump that looks like a Soviet-era zheloy dom. She first appears with her hair up, working-class style, glumly groomed. And the two of them are photographed -- dressed or otherwise -- in a way that makes their skin seem to emit a pale sickly blue. Your first thought is liable to be a red flag: This is going to be one depressing flick.
Then as the plot develops -- hard as it is to follow in its details -- we come to know them surprisingly well, the two of them. Rylance takes on a certain pathetic charm with his scarred eyebrow and occasional stutter. And Kerry Fox lets her hair down, literally, and we can see the self-knowledge and the desire in her big blue New Zealand eyes. They become likable.
In many ways the most admirable person important to the story is Timothy Spall as Kerry's husband, the Hitchcockian cab driver. He's not particularly bright and he trusts people a bit too much. And, man, he looks unprepossessing. But he's gregarious, generous, good-natured, and as harmless as a child. When he discovers that Rylance and Fox have been boffing each other, what does he do? Does he pick up a gun and spray lead. Does he do a plastic-surgery number on Rylance's face? Nope. He goes round to Rylance's bar, has a beer, and tells Rylance that he loves his wife. And that every day he loves her more. Later, when Fox prompts him to ventilate his anger over her affair, all he can come up with is something like, "I don't care about that s***! What really bothers me is that you're a lousy actress and will never be anything else!" When he's done shouting, she replies, "You don't even know how to hurt me." There are other characters in the story too -- children, an ex-wife, somebody named Victor with a Scots accent, and a gay French bartender who philosophizes a lot. (I wonder if the writers had a particular model in mind.) Next to Kerry's husband, the French guy is about the most articulate of the bunch.
But that's the problem with the movie. I was frankly lost at times. I honestly don't know how Spall's character found out about his wife's affair. Evidently she confirmed suspicions he already had, but since the scene doesn't appear on screen we have to guess. In fact, if the love scenes are speechless, the rest of the script isn't much better. More than once a character says to another, "I can't understand a word you're saying." Sometimes I couldn't either. "We shouldn't be gay because someone died." "Nobody died." "I died once. It was the only day I could tell the whole truth." I think we're in "Last Year at Marienbad" territory here. A shouting match between Rylance and Kerry in the basement theater made no sense to me at all. It reminded me of my marriage.
I recommend it though. It's a rare movie made for adults. It's a challenging drama about lives that are either half empty or half full, depending on how you look at them. The ending is sad, but we are at least left with the hope that these characters can mend their tattered lives and get on with things.