The Hours, most famous for being the film where Nicole Kidman sports a prosthetic nose - which is pretty effective actually, makes her almost unrecognisable! The plot follows 3 women in different decades all suffering from depression - warning, this is a clue to how much of a downer the movie is, but in actual fact I really enjoyed it. It travels through a day in each of their lives, one in which they may or may not survive... Besides starring Nicole Kidman as writer Virginia Wolfe, it also features Julianne Moore playing a typical (and suicidal) 50s housewife and Meryl Streep as a present day publisher, with a ton of big names in the supporting cast - worth it for the talent alone in my opinion!
This movie was an epiphany. As the main titles rolled, I told myself THE HOURS must have the best cast since IT'S A MAD, MAD, MAD, MAD WORLD -- Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore, Nicole Kidman, Miranda Richardson, Claire Danes, Ed Harris, Allison Janney, Toni Collette, John C. Reilly, etc. -- and I braced myself for great performances. (The lesser-known Stephen Dillane, as Virginia Woolf's suffering husband, is especially good.) But what this film offers, above all, is great writing. David Hare's script, based on a novel by Michael Cunningham, is so brilliant on its own terms that everything else the production throws at it -- the exceptional actors, the splendid cinematography, Kidman's uncanny persona-dissolving makeup (which turns her into someone who looks slightly less like Virginia Woolf than Meryl Streep does without any makeup whatsoever), and especially the endlessly cycling, bicyling, tricycling, churning, twerning, exacerbating, lacerating, masturbating score of Philip Glass (I'm finally off the fence; he's a poseur) -- is powerless to do anything but vulgarize it. I'm not saying it's a bad movie; it's not -- but I believe the script would have gained much more in the auditorium of a reader's imagination. I haven't read the novel, so it's quite possible it's all in there.
No comments:
Post a Comment