Newsgroup: it.arti.cinema
Titolo: Rolling Stone likes Mirth!

ROLLING STONE REVIEW     slight spoiler warning
From Rolling Stone, Dec. 14-21, Pg. 178
X-traordinary Gillian Anderson
in "The House of Mirth"
"With Edith Wharton, the gloves are off and there's blood on the walls." So
says director Terence Davies, who delivers the author's 1905 novel to the
screen in all its full, flinty vigor. The delicate dynamite of Gillian
Anderson in a performance that deserves to be widely celebrated brings a
grieving heart to this vicious social satire. In looking at greedy old New
York at the turn of hte last century, Davies finds only a few things changed
about the pulse of sex and the city. Who's in and who's out among the filthy
rich is still a killing game that takes no prisoners.
Anderson, leaving behind her X-Files role as the alien-chasing agent Scully,
portrays Lily Bart, a social climber on the verge of calamitous fall. Davies
and camera master Remi Adefarasin (Elizabeth) give us a stunning first look
at Lily, emerging from a flattering cloud of train steam at Grand Central
station. Elegantly dressed, gloved and corseted, carrying a parasol and
wearing a sweeping hat with a veil, Lily looks like a bird in full plummage.
Lawrence Seldon (Eric Stoltz), the lawyer whom Lily loves against her better
instincts - he's not rich and must work for a living - tells her, "You're
such a wonderful spectacle." And so she is. [Eh, ma anche lui non è
male!...] But Lily hedges her bets with Lawrence to snag a wealthy husband,
and, failing that, she finds herself embroiled in a scandal that makes her a
social outcast. Stripped of her ornaments, Lily discovers something less
chic and harder to live with: moral courage.
Davies is no less ruthless than Wharton in his portrait of careless cruelty.
This gifted British director, best known for 1988's Distant Voices, Still
Lives and 1992's The Long Day Closes - tone poems to his working-class
childhood - has never pressed heavily on the plot button. But in adapting
Wharton's novel, without cheating by updating her language to a modern
idiom, Davies attains a narrative purity of shocking intimacy and emotional
force. It's a crowning achievement.
Look closely at the shrewd way Davies stages the chance meeting of Lily and
Lawrence at Grand Central. Lily has two hours to kill until her train leaves
for a husband-hunting weekend at the suburban home of fat cat Gus Trenor
(Dan Aykroyd) and his wife, Judy (Penny Downie). "How nice of you to come to
my rescue," she tells Lawrence, who invites her for tea at his flat. "I'll
risk it," she says, flirtatiously, but Anderson lets us see the strain that
the pretense of coy femininity takes on Lily. [Absolutelyyyy]
At the flat, Lily tries a more direct approach, confessing her dependence on
a man for power and position. "A girl must marry," she says, "but a man only
if he chooses." Lawrence offers Lily a cigarette. You've got to hand it to
Anderson: Not since Bette Davis has an actress better used a cigarette as
erotic punctuation. [!] Davies packs more smolder into a simple moment -
Lily blowing a gentle puff of smoke into Lawrence's face - than a lesser
director could accomplish with nudity and penetration. [Ma signor Rolling
Stone, cosa dice, insomma...!]
Lily has a genius for doing the wrong thing at the right time. She asks for
financial help from Gus - Aykroyd plays him with just the right note of
piggish charm - then recoils when he expects to be paid back in sexual
favors. She alienates Bertha Dorset (a memorable nasty Laura Linney), the
social leader who falsely brands Lily as a home wrecker. She is rebuffed by
the once-courtly Sim Rosedale (Anthony LaPaglia), the nouveau riche Jew who
also knows the sting of social exclusion. LaPaglia gives the role a brutal
honesty that removes the anti-Semitic taint of the caricature that Wharton
created. Only Stoltz fails to realize the potential of his role. [Non è
vero!]
No matter. The film belongs to Anderson, who handles Lily's descent from
decoration to dishrag with uncanny skill. [Questo non sarà mai sottolineato
abbastanza] Deprived of the material things that she had used to define
herself, Lily is forced to face a reality. The truth both strengthens and
destroys her. The House of Mirth is not one of those teacup and doily
movies; it's harsh and disturbing. Davies does superlatively right by
Wharton. There's blood on the walls.
_______________
Courtesy of Grande Dame Nicole Burnell in Dorset

 From Rolling Stone, Dec. 14-21, Pg. 178
Ehm, immagino sia NOV., ovviamente...
NB
_______________
"A chi importa sapere quante tartarughe avevano nella zuppa?!"

 Ehm, immagino sia NOV., ovviamente...
no, e' dicembre (Special Issue su People of the Year)
ciao, 
alessandro

 no, e' dicembre (Special Issue su People of the Year)
Ma... manca un bel po' al 14 Dicembre!
Mah.
Comunque grazie per la precisazione.
NB

 Comunque grazie per la precisazione.
volevo solo dire che non ti eri sbagliata la prima volta (al primo post).
Avevo davanti l'edizione cartacea di Rolling Stone, e...
A proposito di recenzioni : Peter Travers, il recensore di Rolling
Stone, e' uno dei miei preferiti. Non foss'altro perche' lo ritengo
onesto, come la rivista per cui scrive (ariaproposito, e' uscito "Almost
Famous" in Italia ? Parla proprio di Rolling Stone, la rivista).
Eppure mi chiedo se la "forma" recenzione abbia, oggi, ancora senso.
A me sembra che siano veramente diventate (ed e' questo il vero uso che
se ne fa qui negli Stati Uniti) solo una fonte per tagliare slogan pubblicitari.
Ora, questo mi sembra anche il problema di questo newsgroup, imho.
Soprattutto per le recenzioni "negative". Penso a Kaplan, per esempio.
Mi chiedo, in sintesi, qual e' la molla (la motivazione) che ci porta a
desiderare di scrivere frasi/concetto categoriche (il corrispettivo
degli slogan pubblicitari, se ci si pensa per benino) su un film ?
Per quanto mi riguarda, per esempio, trovo molto difficile (inutile?)
scrivere di un film che non mi e' piaciuto affatto. Ho notato che si
finisce per esprimersi come dei giornalisti sportivi. Come una squadra
che vince in trasferta diventa "corsara" per default, un personaggio
maldescritto diventa, chesso', "improbabile" etc..
Non so se mi spiego.
ciao,
alessandro

 Non so se mi spiego.
Perfettamente, e sono Pd'A
-- 
"Andiamo a farci un coca-pampero da Betto, amico mio"
--
Style Matters              
www.iaciners.org
N. 6 nella lista di proscrizione del Kaplan


ma giusto, c'e' l'emozione che soffoca. In generale le sensazioni
positive sono piu' difficili da esprimere (parlo per me), se invece il
film non ti e' piaciuto i commenti vengono piu' facilmente giu', molto
piu' facilmente