Cast: Stephen Rea, Sarah Polley, Jean Smart, Gina Gershon, Paul Dooley, Francis Guinan, Carrie Preston
Director: Audrey Wells
Producers: Jonathan King, Brad Weston
Screenplay: Audrey Wells
Cinematography: Charles Minsky
Music: Christophe Beck
U.S. Distributor: Miramax Films
Every year has a set of breakout performances. In 1999, one of those belongs to Sarah Polley. While it's too early to be handing out my personal citations for the year's best actress, Polley figures to be in the running. Her work in Guinevere, the directorial debut of screenwriter Audrey Wells (The Truth about Cats and Dogs), is truly eye-opening. And, while this isn't the first time the quality of Polley's acting has generated raves (she had a key role in The Sweet Hereafter and has been in the business since 1985, when she was six years old), it is her most visible part to date. (Her other prominent 1999 role was in Doug Liman's Go - although she was featured in only one segment of the multi-episode story.)
Guinevere is a smartly written, often insightful female coming of age movie. Considering that 90% of the entries into this genre deal with the trials and tribulations of young men, the protagonist's gender alone makes Guinevere noteworthy. And, while the production takes an occasional misstep (especially in the way it concludes), generally speaking, it spins a deft and involving story. Although many of the broad strokes in Welles' picture may seem familiar, the subtle rhythms are richer and more fully textured than what we have come to expect from pictures of this sort.
Portraying 21 year-old Harper Sloane without a hint of artifice, Polley is a standout from the moment she first appears on screen during the movie's initial scene. The event is Harper's older sister's wedding, and it's immediately clear that the only thing the family considers the younger sibling to be good for is acting as a gofer. She's told to locate the photographer, but, after unsuccessfully searching the grounds, she finds an isolated spot to wrestle with the cork on a champagne bottle. Enter the photographer, Connie Fitzpatrick (Stephen Rea), a genial, middle-aged man whose bohemian charisma immediately captures Harper's affection-starved attention. (The film's title refers to Connie's nickname for Harper, which he bestows upon her during their first encounter.) For her, it's love at first sight, and, when she requests that he not photograph her ("I don't like to be looked at"), he contrives to find ways to get her out of all the group shots.
It doesn't take long for Harper to become Connie's apprentice (both in the study of life and photography). He wants to release the talent he senses to be bubbling just beneath her surface. Following his advice, she decides not to go to law school - an action that angers her parents, who are both attorneys - but she isn't certain that Connie is right about her artistic ability. "I've got no talent," she remarks. "You're mistaking me for someone with potential." It doesn't take long for Harper and Connie to become lovers and for her to leave her parents' sterile mansion and move in with him. However, an encounter with one of Connie's former "pupils" (Gina Gershon) provokes Harper to wonder whether she's really special, or just another one of Connie's conquests.
The centerpiece of Guinevere is Polley's performance, which is flawlessly unaffected. The depth of her talent is revealed during the scene when Connie seduces Harper. Polley fidgets and giggles her way through the encounter, displaying a mix of awkwardness, apprehension, embarrassment, and amusement that is common in real-life sexual experiences but is almost never shown in a motion picture. It's rare that we see something so genuine and seemingly unrehearsed. Throughout Guinevere, Polley breathes life and spontaneity into her character, and we are granted the opportunity to see Harper's transition from a naïve, uncertain girl to a confident young woman.
Although Polley steals the spotlight, she is given strong support by Stephen Rea, Jean Smart, and, in a small role, Gina Gershon. Of the three, Rea has the most difficult task - essaying a character who is really a middle-aged loser with no future, but who, as seen through Harper's eyes, is a figure of kindness, wisdom, and charm. Rea finds the right balance, allowing the audience to observe both aspects of his character. As Harper's mother, Smart leaps off the screen during her few scenes and proves the old adage that the tongue can cut more deeply than the knife. Gershon brings a cocky cynicism to the role of Billie, illustrating the kind of life view that a relationship with Connie eventually imparts.
Guinevere is a good motion picture, but not a perfect one. Although the main character's personality development, which forms the meat of the story, is effectively detailed, the movie does not move in any surprising or unexpected directions (although, at least until the end, things don't turn mawkish or sentimental). Guinevere has a clear-headed view of its characters and their situations. Unfortunately, the denouement leaves a bad taste. For the epilogue, Welles switches the focus away from Harper and towards Connie, and uses an unwelcome fantasy sequence to offer closure. Other than that, Guinevere is a successful feature debut for Audrey Welles in her behind-the-camera capacity and an opportunity for Sarah Polley to display the full range of her considerable acting ability.
© 1999 James Berardinelli