A very poor and joyless adaptation, probably financed by the Opus Dei

Rating: 3/10 (21 May 2006)

I saw the film in a packed Toronto house. The crowd was silent and attentive, with the people around me repressing just a few yawns toward the end.
I liked the exposition parts, which gave life to some very involved explanations with the help of interesting low-resolution visuals and historical recreations. But, as a travelogue or illustrated appendix to the book, the film suffers from anaemic colours and pallid photography. A lot of the scenes take place at night or under cloudy skies or in murky indoor locations. Sad to say, but the novel had better visuals...
The action scenes are jumbled and close-cropped - TV-style - so it's hard to get a clear idea of what goes on. In one isolated flash of genius, the film shows an instant replay of what just happened from a different point of view in order to answer questions the viewer might have. It works - as it does in the book - and this technique should have been repeated in other instances, especially after the big showdown in Westminster Abbey, which peters out like a wet firecracker without it.
The monuments shown, whether real or stand-ins, are rarely presented in all their architectural glory even when the camera pulls back for an establishing shot (which is not often). You never feel like you are in Paris or in London. I kept thinking I'd prefer the matte paintings of old to this kind of botched and pedestrian location photography. There is never any sense of awe, wonder, amazement, grandeur, majesty, magic, joy, celebration, mystery, intrigue or emotion and you don't feel the excitement of discovery or urgency, which should be an essential ingredient of any treasure hunt. Howard paints all scenery as well as all human interactions with only one colour: grey. The music is equally lugubrious and oppressive and sounds like it was penned during an acute bout of Prozac withdrawal.
Changes were made to the original story, some of which are justified when they speed up the action, while others are missed opportunities to reprise what worked best in the novel. Especially abhorrent is the change that was made in Sophie's family tree, which can only be explained by a misplaced sense of prudery. It robs the ending of any human warmth and closure. Any hint of sexual attraction between the protagonists has also been surgically removed, so as not to mix s-e-x with all the "seriousness" that goes on. The screenwriter has even gone out of his way to not offend any religious sensibilities by planting a lot of "ifs" and "buts" in every argument and even a discreet disclaimer about the "Prieuré de Sion" hoax. From that point of view, the film was made by a yellow-bellied prude hedging his bets at every turn and unwilling to listen to a second opinion. It is so reticent about its own subject matter that it may be suspected of having been financed by the Opus Dei to defuse the controversy. It's easy to imagine Howard wearing a cilice all through the shooting of this picture and taking time out for bouts of self-flagellation in order to remind himself that no despicable fleshly enjoyment at all should be derived by anyone from this picture. It feels like a film about Catholic dogma directed by a Puritan Quaker.
A good part of the film is in French and acted by competent French actors, which makes Hanks' horrible pronunciation stand out like a sore thumb. I mean the guy is supposed to be an international scholar, for Magdalen's sake, and he still takes half a minute to struggle through the words "Bois de Boulogne". I guess Hanks' time is too valuable to sit in front of a language coach for half an hour, which also explains why his character acts at all times like he is slightly annoyed because he has other, more pressing engagements and this whole shoot is playing havoc with his social calendar. Audrey Tautou is charming and believable and one feels for her character's many predicaments as well as for the horrible cuts that were made to her back-story. Jean Reno has to struggle with a part that makes him even more of a one-dimensional heel and a chump than his character was in the book (yes, it's possible), while also making him sadistic, incompetent and a gullible religious fanatic, which he never was in the book. Ian McKellen gives his all, as usual, and tries, in vain, to save the film single-handedly. He certainly deserves an honorary keystone. The Silas character (Paul Bettany) has been reduced to a sideshow non-entity trotted around for pure shock value. We never learn where he came from or what the hell that accent is supposed to be (French-Spanish-Latin retard?). His last words ("I am a ghost") are particularly appropriate since he couldn't very well say: "Is that all there is to my part?"
In conclusion, it's an unnecessarily timid adaptation that is more than a little depressing, if not outright morbid, in its delivery. The flashbacks about Silas' childhood and his relationship to his protector, for instance, and Sophie's falling out with her grandfather, are not long enough to reveal anything of interest and only add to the atmosphere of randomness and confusion. I personally did not see where the budget went because it's certainly not on screen, even if all the historical flashbacks were CGI, and some palms had to be greased at the Louvre and Mr. Tom "Nice Guy" Hanks insists on a solid gold bidet in his private quarters.
When I left the theatre, the colours of a springtime sunset in downtown Toronto were absolutely breathtaking by comparison. Final thoughts: The book had its faults but it was certainly better than this and that is the only disclaimer that should have been put at the beginning of the picture.