Elegy (2008)
I happened to have read the novel that led to this movie, by Philip Roth, who I had always admired, at least in theory (not all his works are equal, for sure). But I was really repulsed the single minded old man lust of the original story. And I was equally unconvinced that a young (and necessarily beautiful) woman would need and be satisfied by that lust to some kind of simplistic narcissistic degree.
It's rare I hate a novel that might at least be well written, and I found myself hating the movie for the same reasons.
So to temper things, I'll say that both Ben Kingsley and Penelope Cruz are superb in their roles. Kingsley as the lonely professor hitting on a young and vulnerable college student is subtle and convincing. And Cruz as that returning (slightly older) student in her odd obsession with this man, and then with a personal tragedy that falls on her, and between them.
But that might be the extent of my entry here. There are issues here that are interesting, the first being a relationship built on physical love (and appreciation, in some non-aesthetic sense but relating strictly to beauty) from the man, and on a more cultural appreciation and almost adoration on her part (he shows her high culture). And those are elements in many relationships. But what about the rest of their lives, the psyches? Is this just a fulfilling of two defined needs, one to the other in vary different but compensating ways?
Maybe. But then the movie doesn't make enough of it. Oh, sure, we get Kingsley's worldly confidence and education, and we get an eyeful of Cruz's physical beauty, all of it, and so in literal terms the movie goes where the book does. But it is told with linear simplicity. Interspersed are some really painful old man "guy talk" sections, at regular intervals, and the other guy, improbably played by Dennis Hopper, is really just a kind of non-comic relief from the other simple story.
There is true tragedy by the end, and if you know anyone who has had breast cancer, or had to deal with disfigurement, there might be a small sense of recognition, that very palpable feeling that appearances matter. But a more likely feeling will be one of poison and cheapness, that the movie (and Roth) exploit a deeply disturbing psychological and almost spiritual issue, about identity and wholeness, and about survival, with enormous insensitivity and superficial ignorance. I know there will be those who understand the movie's point of view, but I think there are more who will not.
Oddly enough, the director is a woman (though Roth, of course, is not, and he wrote his book as an older man after years of teaching literature at a college, and the screenwriter is also a man). A puzzling and unrewarding movie.
I happened to have read the novel that led to this movie, by Philip Roth, who I had always admired, at least in theory (not all his works are equal, for sure). But I was really repulsed the single minded old man lust of the original story. And I was equally unconvinced that a young (and necessarily beautiful) woman would need and be satisfied by that lust to some kind of simplistic narcissistic degree.
It's rare I hate a novel that might at least be well written, and I found myself hating the movie for the same reasons.
So to temper things, I'll say that both Ben Kingsley and Penelope Cruz are superb in their roles. Kingsley as the lonely professor hitting on a young and vulnerable college student is subtle and convincing. And Cruz as that returning (slightly older) student in her odd obsession with this man, and then with a personal tragedy that falls on her, and between them.
But that might be the extent of my entry here. There are issues here that are interesting, the first being a relationship built on physical love (and appreciation, in some non-aesthetic sense but relating strictly to beauty) from the man, and on a more cultural appreciation and almost adoration on her part (he shows her high culture). And those are elements in many relationships. But what about the rest of their lives, the psyches? Is this just a fulfilling of two defined needs, one to the other in vary different but compensating ways?
Maybe. But then the movie doesn't make enough of it. Oh, sure, we get Kingsley's worldly confidence and education, and we get an eyeful of Cruz's physical beauty, all of it, and so in literal terms the movie goes where the book does. But it is told with linear simplicity. Interspersed are some really painful old man "guy talk" sections, at regular intervals, and the other guy, improbably played by Dennis Hopper, is really just a kind of non-comic relief from the other simple story.
There is true tragedy by the end, and if you know anyone who has had breast cancer, or had to deal with disfigurement, there might be a small sense of recognition, that very palpable feeling that appearances matter. But a more likely feeling will be one of poison and cheapness, that the movie (and Roth) exploit a deeply disturbing psychological and almost spiritual issue, about identity and wholeness, and about survival, with enormous insensitivity and superficial ignorance. I know there will be those who understand the movie's point of view, but I think there are more who will not.
Oddly enough, the director is a woman (though Roth, of course, is not, and he wrote his book as an older man after years of teaching literature at a college, and the screenwriter is also a man). A puzzling and unrewarding movie.