1/2
I cannot think we have become such aesthetes. THE ENGLISH PATIENT is a very good movie, but leagues behind this one. And Arthur Miller's classic wasn't even nominated. I have to admit that this did not strike me as a travesty until I actually saw the film. Then I realized the error that was made.
I hear a lot about substance these days, and have for a long time, among the art crowd. There are those who overtly shun it, saying that all attempt at substance is a deception. These are the collectors of Andy Warhol art, and splatter-paintings. They love the reader-response approach to dissecting literature because--for them—it is the only realistic approach. I can't subscribe to this idea, especially after seeing a film like THE CRUCIBLE.
So what makes a great film? When the elements come together perfectly, it is a delicious movie-going experience for me. These elements include acting, setting (which includes lights, costumes, and general design), music, directing, and--of course--story. The elements rarely come together perfectly, and to be frank, they aren't expected to. A film like THAT THING YOU DO, for instance, doesn't require brilliance in all the above departments to effectively entertain.
So we come to THE CRUCIBLE. Not all of the elements are perfect, though none are less than extremely effective. But the story is so darn gooood. This screenplay must have presented quite a quandary for Academy voters. Original? Well--yes and no. And again, there seems to be a lack of desire on the part of the film-makers to spend too much time on details. The sense of the community falling apart, of farms neglected and houses unrepaired and business untended, goes largely unnoticed. Details are missing.
And in the end, that really doesn't seem to matter. Because the crux of the story here is the story itself. I had heard, going into the theater, all about how "energetic" this film was. It "pulsated," it "beat with carnal rhythm," it thundered along in moral upheavals. It did, I guess. Very helpful of those critics. I can see them trying to figure out how to describe it in a way that would make the average joe think to himself "hey, now that CRUCIBLE sounds like one heck of a sexy time."
How do you sell a film that stars a bunch of actors as Puritans being Puritans? Especially when hiring Harrison Ford and dropping a murder mystery/thriller into the Puritans' laps has already been done?
Well, you cast instead Daniel Day-Lewis, Joan Allen, Winona Ryder, and possibly my favorite actor of all time: Paul Scofield (in a real role, not just window dressing). Then you trim the very detail that may cost you in the art department in favor of moving the whole entity along on its questions of guilt and power. Then you give up on the idea of it being a commercial success anyway, because--somehow--this new "energized" version has taken on an artistic life of its own. It grips the lucky few that are its audience with an unfettered fist and shakes them awake with sudden declarations of their own moral identity.
It is riveting in the crucial aspects. The writing has been lionized for a reason--it is at the top of its art in not only voice, syntax, and diction, but also in its power of dialogue. But that is another review. Bring to this writing the talent of the actors involved, and hold on. Joan Allen dominates many scenes, due in part to her own incredibly concentrated performance, and also to John Proctor's--I mean Daniel Day-Lewis'--ability to just melt so completely into his characters that you forget he's one of the actors. Most of the time. His scenes where he's just being old irascible John Proctor are among his best, as are his scenes with Winona Ryder, oddly enough. The only forced moments may be those of the high moral battles--in his home, and in the final scene. But they are forced well.
There are so many moments. A dignified Goody Proctor in the doorway of her home, and John Proctor outside--it is night and the Reverend Hale has just arrived for what will be her arrest. A disheveled Goody Proctor in the courtroom, before Danforth and between Abagail and John-- uttering one word that will save or damn an entire village. Paul Scofield as Danforth, asserting his intent to effectively sanitize the region. That voice. Maybe you think to yourself, if someone like him thinks we oughtta sanitize, then we oughtta. If the real Danforth was anything like that, no wonder he held such sway.
Many good films that have similar themes to this one move inexorably to their moments of anguished drama. This film does not. Maybe it was all the those reviews I saw, but it does indeed seem to hurtle toward its moments of decision with sheer inhibition. Then it pauses right at the brink, for just a bare second, allowing the audience to digest the full scope of what is about to happen--then pummels you. And before you can recover, the momentum has already smacked you against the back of your seat as it rockets off to its next turn.
The defining moment of the film is the triumph of ideal, voiced by Joan Allen: "He has his goodness now. God Forbid I take it from him." This ends the play, but the movie moves forward to the actual execution. That phrase, though, underscores all the good that the honest members of the community strove to attain. And at the cost of their lives, for many in this case. From all accounts, Rebecca Nurse was thought of much like her portrayal in this film. Her death is a testament to the depth of her straightforward beliefs. This movie challenges the more convoluted approach to morality that marks our modern thinking.
Upon leaving the theater, my friend asked what I would have done if I were in John Proctor's position. I responded that I believe I would have done the same thing, probably unable to think of a the clever escape that Thomas Moore would have recommended. He (my friend) said it would have been a hard thing to do. But I thought then, and still do, that the tough moral battles are the small ones--how we live from day to day. The big battles are usually more clearly delineated--therefore easier.
In my opinion, if a movie inspires serious and thought-provoking conversations, something is being done right. And that something is more worth an Academy nod than LUST IN THE EGYPTIAN DUST, [i.e. THE ENGLISH PATIENT]. Oh well.
