Film Review Sunday: A Late Quartet

If you’ve ever read the storybook Pumpkin Soup, the premise for A Late Quartet will be deliciously familiar to you.

Pumpkin Soup is the story of a duck, a cat and a squirrel who live in perfect harmony in a cabin deep in the woods. Their days are spent making the best pumpkin soup in the world and playing their instruments. Everything is happiness in the old white cabin until Duck announces he doesn’t want to add salt in the soup anymore—a chore he’s been performing with great success for as long as they’ve been together. Now he wants to stir the soup.

Except that stirring the soup is the Squirrel’s job.

The request results in a monumental quarrel between the animals followed by rupture and maybe (even) the loss of friendship. In a similar fashion, violinist Robert (Philip Seymour Hoffman) upsets his string quartet’s dynamic when he decides he doesn’t want to be second violin anymore, but first. This daring idea comes after elder cellist, Peter (Christopher Walken) announces he’s in the earliest stages of Parkinson’s and must leave the quartet after 25 seasons together. Not only do the quartet members have to navigate the early retirement of their beloved mentor, but also the ego clashes between Robert and first violinist Daniel (Mark Ivanir). Add to the mix the questionable loyalty of Robert’s wife and viola player, Juliette, and their passionate daughter, Alexandra, and you have all the elements of a powerful drama.

The Fugue in its days of glory

Not too different from this trio's happy days

A Late Quartet is woven together with such precision that every bit of dialogue and every gesture contributes to the tension and development of the plot. In this film, there is no need for excessive violence or heinous screams to create conflict. Some of the harshest words are spoken in a whisper. (But not to fear, there are some intense scenes as well!). Perhaps the film’s biggest asset is how real the characters and their relationships feel. It’s almost as though the audience is given a chance to peek into the lives of musicians they would otherwise only see on a stage. In the end, we are presented with everyday people with ordinary feelings but extraordinary talents.

Aside from stellar performances and a somewhat unpredictable plot, I enjoyed the music (the film plays a tribute to Beethoven’s Opus 131 in C-sharp minor) but even more the exploration of human nature and how resilient we are to change. In Spanish there is a saying that goes like this: “Mas vale malo conocido que bueno por conocer.”  I believe the English translation is “Better the Devil you know.” In A Late Quartet, Robert and Peter represent change, whereas Daniel and Juliette stand for the formula that has already worked for them. Even when Robert introduces the concept that if they don’t take risks, they’ll never know how great they can become, the threat of change is so frightening to some of them that the dissolution of the group seems a preferable and imminent option.

Mmm... what could this flamenco dancer have to do with a string quartet?
You'll have to watch the film to know!

A Late Quartet was released in the Fall of 2012 and was only in theaters for a short time, it seems, but don’t let that stop you from watching it! (And if you do, come back and tell me what you think!)

Did you watch this film? Why do you think we're so resistant to change?

Movie Review Sunday: Anna Karenina

When most people think of Leo Tolstoy's sweeping classic Anna Karenina, a story about love and early twinges of revolution in Imperial Russia, they tend to fall into one of three categories:

1. You wholeheartedly embrace the adventure of reading such a venerated classic.
2. You grit your teeth and swear that you will get through the stupid thing, even if it kills you.
3. Or, you say to hell with it and just watch the movie.

I tend to fall somewhere between #s 2 and 3. I have tried a few times to get through Anna Karenina the novel, but I'll be honest and say that I've only made it as far as the second or third chapter. And, in the end, I've ended up not watching one, but two versions of the story. The most recent version available casts Keira Knightley as the lovestruck titular character with Aaron Taylor-Johnson as the boyish and strangely highlighted-haired Count Vronsky.

Now, I'd heard a thing or two about director Joe Wright's film before I decided to sit down and take it in. Mainly the reviews were mixed at best, some enjoying Wright's daring take on the story, while others scratched their heads over what he was trying to do. When I hear such dissension over a much-touted film I'm always curious to see why.

Keira Knightley as the
lovely Anna Karenina.

Anna Karenina opens with an elaborate stage (as seen in the movie poster above), informing the audience that it is Imperial Russian, 1874. And this is how the story plays out, on a stage with lush costumes evoking the mindset and emotions of each character, from Anna's dark, sumptuous gowns to Kitty's vibrant pastel hues. The audience is hurtled through set and costume changes, all the while trying to keep up with the dialogue spoken onscreen so as not to miss a single moment in this bizarre, somewhat off-kilter idea of actually staging a film.

In the beginning, we see Anna come to her brother Prince Stiva Oblonsky's aid as she tries to diffuse a tense atmosphere between Dolly, Stiva's wife and Stiva himself, because of his infidelity with the governess. The foreshadowing of what will become Anna's own infidelity is present in the scene where she's speaking with Dolly and asking her if she has enough love in her heart to continue on with Stiva. All Dolly can do is cry and say that none of it is her fault, so why is she supposed to be the one to clean up her husband's mess. Of course, Anna herself creates the same kind of mess in her dull, loveless marriage.

Anna and Vronsky

The soon-to-be lovers of Anna and Count Vronsky first meet on the train when Anna arrives in Moscow from Saint Petersburg to meet with her brother and wife. A very fitting scene since their romance begins and ends with a train. There is a whiff of something in the air when the two first look into one another's eyes, but it isn't until the formal ball that the longing comes out. And all in front of Kitty, Dolly's younger sister who only has eyes for Count Vronsky. But this is where the love triangle gets tricky. There is another young man in the mix, Konstantin, who longs to marry the sweet, virtuous Kitty but, alas, he is only a plain-looking rural landowner, hacking out his living on the plains of Russia. The only time the film is taken offstage is when the cameras wander outdoors, out into the fresh beauty of nature and away from the stuffy confines of Russian royal society. And this is where we see Konstantin come alive, but also his heartache as he tries desperately to put Kitty and his failed proposition of marriage from his mind.

And so the story unfolds in three tales of love:  one of healing with Stiva and Dolly, one being torn apart with Anna, Vronsky and Anna's husband played with such heartbreak by Jude Law, and one being born out of complete love and innocence with Kitty and Konstantin.

Kitty and Konstantin proposing marriage through blocks.

This staged journey of what eventually becomes tragic love has a strange quality to it. I actually had to watch the film twice because the dialogue tends to get swallowed up by the lovely music overtaking much of the film. And even then, I had to listen closely to understand what was falling apart and what was mending. Having not finished the book, I'm going to go with my gut instinct and assume the tragic ending is a result of Vronsky's hand being forced into marriage because, well, that's what a young gentleman with royal blood did during a time like this. He most certainly could not go off and marry his mistress.

Here's the thing, although I struggled with and found that the staging of this film was crazily distracting, I thought the actors brought a healthy dose of humanity to one of the most famous literary infidelities of all time. Keira Knightley makes a very convincing Anna, although I've always imagined Anna's character as older. Taylor-Johnson, even with his distracting highlighted hair, pulls his emotions from deep within and throws them before the audience, hoping we will see how much he loves his darling Anna, but how much is too much sacrifice for happiness? Konstantin and Kitty's story is the most uplifting, bringing young love and tough decisions to the table, only to see that just because one is of royal blood doesn't mean one won't roll up one's sleeves and do the dirty work. And heck, your husband just might fall even more madly in love with you in the end!

I'm a little on the fence with this version of Anna Karenina, mainly because it's hard to follow with all the distracting scenery changes. But the story is still there, in all its sad, gorgeous, youthful glory. If you're looking for a more literary interpretation of Tolstoy's story then might I suggest this version of Anna Karenina.

What are your thoughts? Have you seen this film and have an opinion to add?