A romance as dry as the desert in which it is set

Rating: 3/10 (25 April 2006)

First off, this movie is certainly one of the most beautifully shot that I have seen in a while. The desert vistas and gorgeous Italian scenery are beautiful to behold. Then again, there are far better films that provide these same elements.
Director Anthony Minghella puts together all of the elements which should have resulted in a haunting romantic spectacle, but someone forgot to strike the sparks required to set it ablaze. Nurse Juliette Binoche (whose bone structure contributes her performance) stays behind at a secluded abandoned monastery in the waning days of WW2 in order to care for enigmatic burn victim Ralph Fiennes, who slowly conveys his sad tale of illicit love, betrayal and tragedy which led to his current predicament.
There are a number of problems which plague the film. First, is its self-indulgent length. I have nothing against lengthy films or miniseries, so long as there is a suitable amount going on to require the length. Nearly every subordinate character is given some sort of clichÃ©d back story to enact in addition to the central romance - be it the nurse, her Sikh paramour who defuses bombs, or his friend. The film is already grossly overlong before Willem Dafoe (in a weak performance) shows up for no purpose whatsoever other than to introduce the concept that Fiennes may be a spy. The Dafoe character could have been easily excised and his function added to Binoche. Naturally, Dafoe's entire back story gets to be enacted in a series of tedious flashbacks. Ironically, no back story/flashbacks are reserved for Colin Firth, who is responsible for setting the climactic events into motion but previously is all but forgotten by the screenplay.
Where the film really fails is that it must be the most deadly romance in recent memory. Fiennes and Kristin Scott-Thomas, as the married woman with whom he dallies, can be amazing actors singularly. However, they are both known for their cool, aloof reserved performances. You can certainly have a fine romance with two outgoing actors in the leads; you have a good shot with opposite-style actors (one vibrant, the other reserved), but casting two self-contained cool personalities at the center of a film that is trying to be a classy romance for the ages proves to be a disaster. They have all the appeal of being pelted in the face with cold wet sardines and even the inclusion of full-frontal nudity (courtesy of Scott-Thomas) fails to raise the heat level above a frozen tundra. Their total lack of chemistry is hardly helped by sporadically groan-inducing dialog like when Fiennes asserts lustily that "I can still taste you." This a not a romantic pairing to enlist your sympathy or set flight to your heart or imagination. The end result is a film that is a feast for the eyes, but starvation for the heart and soul.