Cast: Gillian Anderson, Eric Stoltz, Dan Aykroyd, Eleanor Bron, Terry Kinney, Anthony LaPaglia, Laura Linney, Jodhi May, Elizabeth McGovern
Director: Terence Davies
Producer: Olivia Stewart
Screenplay: Terence Davies, based on the novel by Edith Wharton
Cinematography: Remi Adefarasin
Music: Adrian Johnston
U.S. Distributor: Sony Pictures Classics
Adapting a classic book - any classic - is a difficult task. The House of Mirth, Terence Davies screen version of Edith Wharton's novel, illustrates some of the potential pitfalls inherent in this kind of movie-making. Overall, the motion picture is an effective and intense portrait of the downfall and destruction of a woman who falls into society's disfavor, but it is far from a flawless effort. Despite making numerous cuts from the source material, Davies still has more characters and sub-plots that the 140 minute running length can accommodate. As a result, while the film's central story remains intact and well defined, much of the material surrounding it is murky and incomplete. Supporting characters arrive and disappear with little explanation, and more than one tertiary storyline is not pursued to a conclusion.
At the center of The House of Mirth is Lily Bart (Gillian Anderson), the kind of strong-willed woman who would be at home as the heroine of any of the great female-penned novels of the 19th and early 20th century. Lily could fit as seamlessly into one of Jane Austen's or George Eliot's novels as she does here, albeit with different results. With Austen or Eliot (or most other women writers), Lily would emerge triumphant. With Wharton, who is not known for upbeat tales, Lily is utterly, completely beaten. The purpose of the novel is to show every step in her disgrace and downfall, from the early moments to the final, heartbreaking surrender. Lily, like many women of her time, is a victim of society's constraints and expectations. She is intelligent and proud, but unable to rise above the role she has been groomed for since birth (that of a wife). She cannot "think beyond the box" and see that there are other options open to her than the ones that will ultimately destroy her.
The film takes place over a span of two years in New York City. When we first meet Lily, she is a bored society woman, whose days are occupied by attending parties and lunching with other women on her social level. She has "the reputation of being on the hunt for a husband," and there is no shortage of candidates, but Lily finds no joy in the prospect of "settling down." The one man she feels genuine affection for, Lawrence Selden (Eric Stoltz), is not wealthy (hence, not a good match). The one who pursues her hand with the most vigor, Sim Rosedale (Anthony LaPaglia), actively repulses her. Then there's Gus Trenor (Dan Aykroyd), who is already married, but is interesting in setting Lily up as a kept woman - a role she cannot conceive of playing. Her naiveté about his motives places her in a precarious financial position - she ends up owing him $9000, which she intends to pay back at any cost.
While stubbornness and poor decisions play a part in Lily's downfall, the true architect of her disgrace is Bertha Dorset (Laura Linney). A friend warns Lily about this woman, but she brushes aside the caution, saying, "It's much safer to be fond of dangerous people." She learns the folly of her approach when Bertha, a married woman who flaunts her affairs with other men, is able to trap Lily in a position where censure meant for Bertha falls instead upon her innocent "friend." Lily is branded as a woman of loose morals, loses an expected inheritance from a dying aunt, and is branded as an undesirable woman in society. Only a few friends, including Lawrence Selden and Carrie Fisher (Elizabeth McGovern), continue to risk being in her company, but, beyond offering kind advice, they do little. Eventually, the burden of living in poverty becomes too much for Lily to bear.
In large part due to the nature of the script, the pacing of The House of Mirth is uneven. Things start out slowly, and it can be confusing (especially for someone who is not familiar with the novel) to inventory all of the characters. Eventually, the tone stabilizes, and, by the second half, the power of the story will envelop all but the most distracted viewers. The more the story focuses on Lily and the better developed her character becomes, the more compelling the film is. By the time the inevitable ending arrives, it hits with full, unimpeded force.
The language from Wharton's novel is kept intact. Like with the works of Shakespeare, it takes a little time to get used to Wharton's somewhat archaic rhythms, but the period of transition passes quickly. The House of Mirth - both the novel and the movie - is filled with countless priceless bits of dialogue. Unfortunately, not all of the actors seem completely at home speaking them. In particular, Anthony LaPaglia and Dan Aykroyd are out of place. They neither speak their lines with conviction nor inhabit their characters in a believable fashion. For the most part, they appear a little uncomfortable and out-of-place.
The same cannot be said of Gillian Anderson, however, who is credible as Lily (a little reminiscent of Julianne Moore in An Ideal Husband - maybe it's the red hair). Anderson is, of course, best known for playing Scully in "The X-Files", but she showed unexpected range in The Mighty, and continues to open eyes here. Eric Stoltz is equally at home. Contrasting the way Anderson and Stoltz handle their dialogue to the manner in which LaPaglia and Aykroyd speak their lines gives a clear indication of who the better casting choices were.
The director, Terence Davies, is perhaps best known for making The Long Day Closes, a visually poetic but narratively spartan motion picture. The House of Mirth is a much different kind of production - there is a lot of dialogue and too much plot to cram into the allotted time. However, the shift in focus has not obliterated Davies' artistic impulses. There are moments of quiet visual strength, such as a lengthy transition from a rainy afternoon in the United States to a cruise ship making its way through the Mediterranean. Throughout the film, Davies never loses sight of the importance to a period piece of having a strong visual sense.
In terms of overall impact, The House of Mirth does not equal either of the recent Wharton adaptations (Martin Scorsese's The Age of Innocence; John Madden's Ethan Frome), but that should not deny it a place on the "to see" list of anyone who enjoys this sort of drama. Yes, there's a "Masterpiece Theater" feel to the production, but that's almost inevitably the case with a motion picture based on a novel set in this period, and it should not be taken as a pejorative comment. After an uncertain beginning, The House of Mirth weaves a spell that will draw most audiences in, and the power of its story - especially in the latter moments - will leave many stunned and deeply affected.
© 2000 James Berardinelli