Given my willingness to accept frankly insane and rather
low-brow themes and narratives in my cinema, I might have depicted myself as a
fairly low-brow critic, despite my intentions of reading into films as best I can.
And no other statement I’ve made will end up lending more credence to that than
this: I’m really not that big on costume dramas. Not to say that there are
examples that I have come to like: Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing is one of
my favourite adaptations of the Bard on screen. It’s just that the usual
unmistakable stuffiness that pervades a lot of what we consider to be costume
dramas never really works for me. It’s often too ingrained in a lifestyle so
far removed from my own that, even for a guy who loves the fantastical, I find
it hard to get invested. But hey, maybe today’s film could change that; if I’ve
learnt anything this year, it’s that potential for success can exist in just
about any sub-genre. But somehow, I doubt it.
The plot: Debutante Lady Susan (Kate Beckinsale), recently
widowed, is looking for a suitably wealthy partner, both for herself and for
her daughter Frederica (Morfydd Clark). When she encounters the aristocrat
Reginald (Xavier Samuel), whom becomes smitten with her, it seems that she has
at least found someone for her. However, due to her reputation, the nobles
around her aren’t exactly going to be supportive of Susan’s intentions.
Fittingly enough for this type of story, adapted from Jane
Austen, the cast is full of well-regarded British actors… and actors who, just
going by their previous filmographies, should not be here. Samuel proved
earlier this year that high-brow and posh isn’t exactly his mode, and
Beckinsale has another film out right now consisting of fantasy genre tropes
wrapped around what is basically faux-sophistication with Underworld.
Combine that with the presence of Chloë Sevigny, whose wheelhouse is closer to
the highly questionable side of indie fare, and it can start to feel off… until
you actually see them on screen. Whether it’s down to generally untapped
potential in the actors or director Whit Stillman knowing exactly how to wring
out the right performances (or possibly both), Beckinsale, Samuel and Sevigny,
along with everyone else, do really well with the precise pronunciation and
regal air of the dialogue, just as good if not sometimes better than the actors
surrounding them.
This film seems to be fully aware of how easily this film could
have been told on a theatrical stage as opposed to a theatrical screen. That
becomes painfully apparent within a few minutes of the film commencing, as all
the main players in this story are introduced to us through subtitles detailing
their names, descriptions and relationships to other characters. It’s not
unlike introductions found in most written play scripts, along with a few title
cards used to detailing scene context. Now, as a style of storytelling, I
wouldn’t take issue with this if it ultimately had a greater point and, aside
from showing a basic misunderstanding of the medium of cinema, it doesn’t. In
fact, even with its place as blatant exposition, it actually ends up rather
pointless as, despite or perhaps because
of such milquetoast character introduction, keeping up with who people are if
they aren’t Beckinsale, Samuel or Tom Bennett isn’t easy. And then during the
credits, it goes straight into schlocky straight-to-DVD genre film territory by
having the cast laid out for us through clips of the film. This is usually a
technique done when the film ends up running short and they need padding to
make it feature-length, and I can only hope that that isn’t the case here.
With the story details and the characters being as
irrevocably pompous as they are, this is basically meant to be a showing of the
British upper-class at its more farcical. The film involves a lot of plotting
to secure partners with a lot of wealth and prestige, often with venomous (or what
passes for venomous, given the time period) barbs shot at Lady Susan. However,
if this is meant to be something comical, it’s so low-key that it feels like
this was meant solely for the kind of audience that makes it a habit of
laughing through their noses. Not to say that this film is just never humourous
as there are a few moments where the uber-poshness works, like when Reginald’s
father Sir DeCourcy reads a letter to his wife. Unfortunately, the rest of it
ends up being a little too stuffy… okay, a lot
too stuffy, to really gel with. Oh, and if I never hear about the Kentish
Nightingale again, it’ll be all too soon.
Now to get into the one part of this film that, by and
large, never ceased to engage throughout the film’s run time: Tom Bennett as the
fool Sir Martin. However, for as good as his performance objectively is, he
doesn’t exactly engage for the best of reasons. After the many, many statements I’ve made concerning
pretence and how I absolutely can’t stand it, I should love this character as
he is essentially a loud example of the kind of person who quotes the Ten
Commandments without understanding anything about them; he is a mockery of
everything I hate. Unfortunately, in a feat that proves “annoying = funny” has
been around for far longer than I originally thought, he is astoundingly
annoying. He never gets called out directly for knowing far less than he
pretends to, so all we have in terms of the comedy is seeing him make a
complete ass of himself and that rampant idiocy on its own is meant to be
funny. No such luck, and considering he seems to be the only character bringing
any form of energy into the proceedings, he ends up dragging the rest of the
work down around him.
All in all, even with my gripes concerning this film’s genre
and overall style, I’m willing to concede that this just isn’t my kind of
movie. The acting is good and the direction and production values fit the story
perfectly but, between a general disinterest in the dealings of the British 1%
and a sheer unwillingness to watch Sir Martin be annoying on screen for any
longer than I have to, I couldn’t even pretend to be engaged by this film.
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