***SPOILERS*** ***SPOILERS*** "Women In Love" opens, as I recall, with two sisters, Gudren and Ursula, rushing from their small house. Minutes later they are watching a wedding party arrive at the village church. One presumes that the sisters would be starry-eyed and agog at the wealthy and their high fashions.
But these two are much much more than a couple of envious groupies. They are quickly drawn into the circle of the groom's brother (Oliver Reed) and Oliver's best friend (Alan Bates). Gudren and Ursula are two young women as only Lawrence could fashion them: Gudren wastes no time departing from her teacher-father's somber lifestyle for the riches offered by Oliver Reed. --And Ursula by default follows in her wake.
Gudren, played by the strongest female actress at the time, Glenda Jackson, is like a praying mantis, a predator. Her head is held high, and her eyes are bright and her brain latent predacious. She quickly challenges and competes with the young man whose father owns coal mines. We watch their relationship develop. While he is quizzical and uncertain of her, yet strong and resentful in the way that moneyed youth are strong and resentful, she is a giantess in her brilliance - an arch ego of Lawrence. She digs, she routs, she emasculates - and she stands by to watch the young collier die, eventually. --Whereas Ursula is sweet, golden blond and willing to accept traditional love.
There are several scenes that are indelible: the drowning scene of the quintessentially beautiful bride, the sheer horror when her young husband's laughter changes from amusement to realize that she has submerged - the gurgling as he chokes on water in his hysteria, pleading for help, and sinks. The only thing to approach it is in "Jaws", when the swimmer is bitten in half by the shark before the viewer quite realizes what is happening.
The other scene was the unexpected eroticism immediately following the drowning, after the lake has been drained, when the two young men disrobe and wrestle. It was magnificently evocative, telling us of Lawrence's freedom to engage his two heroes in something so intimate - a solution to allow the men to relieve the dreadfulness of the tragedy. Whether they engaged in sex or not is almost incidental. The fireplace highlighting their masculine prowess as each struggles against the other, was not only beautiful but orgasmically satisfying. The only way Reed can find consolation is to engage in this love-repulsion with his best friend, whom he loves.
Yet another scene is when Hermione dashes Alan Bates with a paper weight, and he rushes from the great hall, blood streaming down his face and smearing his ivory trousers as he sheds his suit. It was the rush of Hermione's unexpected hatred when only a moment earlier her self-indulgent Grecian dance had deteriorated into a scene out of "The Great Gatsby".
The final scene of wonder was of course poor Olive Reed's death, and he died because Gudren, that inquisitive, challenging harridan had left him for a glamorous, decadent German in a Zermat ski-lodge. This physically strong man curled up in the snow and the next morning was found, hoary and frozen.
Overall, this movie offers a magical entree into Lawrence's senses. It is rich, quixotic - of the Twenties. I still can't say if the dialogue makes the greatest sense, or if the characters are simply talking psycho-babble and cant. There is lushness throughout, one small example being when at luncheon al fresco, Bates delicately quarters a fig, pulls it open and compares it to a vulva, deliberately taunting the shy Ursula. And, like Debussy/Stravinsky, Lawrence moves the viewer out of the traditional England, into the cacophonous new world of sensuality and reality.
But these two are much much more than a couple of envious groupies. They are quickly drawn into the circle of the groom's brother (Oliver Reed) and Oliver's best friend (Alan Bates). Gudren and Ursula are two young women as only Lawrence could fashion them: Gudren wastes no time departing from her teacher-father's somber lifestyle for the riches offered by Oliver Reed. --And Ursula by default follows in her wake.
Gudren, played by the strongest female actress at the time, Glenda Jackson, is like a praying mantis, a predator. Her head is held high, and her eyes are bright and her brain latent predacious. She quickly challenges and competes with the young man whose father owns coal mines. We watch their relationship develop. While he is quizzical and uncertain of her, yet strong and resentful in the way that moneyed youth are strong and resentful, she is a giantess in her brilliance - an arch ego of Lawrence. She digs, she routs, she emasculates - and she stands by to watch the young collier die, eventually. --Whereas Ursula is sweet, golden blond and willing to accept traditional love.
There are several scenes that are indelible: the drowning scene of the quintessentially beautiful bride, the sheer horror when her young husband's laughter changes from amusement to realize that she has submerged - the gurgling as he chokes on water in his hysteria, pleading for help, and sinks. The only thing to approach it is in "Jaws", when the swimmer is bitten in half by the shark before the viewer quite realizes what is happening.
The other scene was the unexpected eroticism immediately following the drowning, after the lake has been drained, when the two young men disrobe and wrestle. It was magnificently evocative, telling us of Lawrence's freedom to engage his two heroes in something so intimate - a solution to allow the men to relieve the dreadfulness of the tragedy. Whether they engaged in sex or not is almost incidental. The fireplace highlighting their masculine prowess as each struggles against the other, was not only beautiful but orgasmically satisfying. The only way Reed can find consolation is to engage in this love-repulsion with his best friend, whom he loves.
Yet another scene is when Hermione dashes Alan Bates with a paper weight, and he rushes from the great hall, blood streaming down his face and smearing his ivory trousers as he sheds his suit. It was the rush of Hermione's unexpected hatred when only a moment earlier her self-indulgent Grecian dance had deteriorated into a scene out of "The Great Gatsby".
The final scene of wonder was of course poor Olive Reed's death, and he died because Gudren, that inquisitive, challenging harridan had left him for a glamorous, decadent German in a Zermat ski-lodge. This physically strong man curled up in the snow and the next morning was found, hoary and frozen.
Overall, this movie offers a magical entree into Lawrence's senses. It is rich, quixotic - of the Twenties. I still can't say if the dialogue makes the greatest sense, or if the characters are simply talking psycho-babble and cant. There is lushness throughout, one small example being when at luncheon al fresco, Bates delicately quarters a fig, pulls it open and compares it to a vulva, deliberately taunting the shy Ursula. And, like Debussy/Stravinsky, Lawrence moves the viewer out of the traditional England, into the cacophonous new world of sensuality and reality.