Cast: Kate Hudson, Naomi Watts, Leslie Caron, Stockard Channing, Glenn Close, Thierry Lhermitte, Sam Waterston, Melvil Poupaud, Stephen Fry, Matthew Modine, Bebe Neuwirth
Director: James Ivory
Producers: Ismail Merchant, Michael Schiffer
Screenplay: Ruth Prawer Jhabvala & James Ivory, based on the novel by Diane Johnson
Cinematography: Pierre Lhomme
Music: Richard Robbins
U.S. Distributor: Fox Searchlight
In English and French with subtitles
If I didn't know beforehand, I never would have guessed that Le Divorce is the product of Merchant/Ivory, the producer/director combination responsible for sumptuous character-based dramas such as Howards End, The Remains of the Day, and A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries. The difference lies not so much in the film's setting (many of the most memorable Merchant/Ivory pictures have been period pieces), but in its overall superficiality. Characters are left half-developed or undeveloped so that as much plot as possible can be crammed into two hours. The result, while not wholly unsatisfying, will disappoint those used to the cinematic richness we have come to expect from this collaboration.
The subtext of Le Divorce examines the occasionally opposing axes of American "pragmatism" and French "sophistication." Despite distant, common heritages and shared experiences, the Americans and the French often view things from vastly different perspectives. In the United States, adultery is a grave sin; in France, it is a pardonable offense. In America, the taboo subject is sex; in France, it's money. And, in the United States, propriety takes a back seat to self-expression; in France, it's the other way around. When Le Divorce is acknowledging and lampooning these differences, it's on solid ground. However, when it shifts into a straightforward storytelling mode, the foundation is less certain.
The reason for this is simple enough to discern - there's more going on than the running length can comfortably support. In trying to retain as much material as possible from Diane Johnson's source material, screenwriters Ivory and Ruth Prawer Jhabvala lose their focus. The movie as a whole feels rushed, bursting at the seams with seemingly unnecessary subplots and tangential characters. The protagonists end up shortchanged, their three-dimensionality sacrificed to the needs of the narrative. And, in the end, an unfortunate round of overwrought melodrama is required to sort everything out. (Most of the final 20 minutes seems contrived.)
Naomi Watts plays Roxanne De Persand, an American-born poet who is living in Paris with her French husband, Charles-Henri (Melvil Poupaud), and their daughter. Her younger Sister, Isabel (Kate Hudson), arrives from the States just as Charles-Henri is leaving Roxanne for a performance artist whom he declares to be the love of his life. Roxanne is understandably devastated, but Charles-Henri's family isn't very supportive. His mother, Suzanne (Leslie Caron), disapproves of what he has done, but only because he has shown bad timing. (Roxanne is pregnant, and a husband should never leave when a wife is in that condition.) Meanwhile, Isabel finds herself embroiled in an affair with the older, silk-tongued Edgar Cosset (Thierry Lhermitte), who happens to be Suzanne's brother. She accepts her role as his mistress, but then has the bad taste to develop feelings for him. There are also subplots about an expensive painting that may or may not be a part of the divorce settlement, and an unhinged husband (Matthew Modine) who stalks Roxanne because her spouse took off with his wife.
The performances by Kate Hudson and Naomi Watts are solid, but not the kind of work likely to cause viewers to take notice. Both actresses have shone brighter in the past, although Hudson's work as Isabel represents a slight broadening of her range. One standout is Thierry Lhermitte as the suave politician Edgar, whose two purposes in life are to appear on talk shows to promote him image and to seduce young girls. Another is veteran actress Leslie Caron, who plays a wonderfully stiff and dislikable Suzanne. Her ever-present smile appears to have been glued on. High-profile performers like Glenn Close, Stockard Channing, Sam Waterston, and Stephen Fry are wasted because their characters serve no purpose beyond devouring screen time.
Le Divorce moves at a frantic enough pace to keep most viewers interested, if not entirely engaged. Although all of the "action" occurs in the final act, there's plenty going on throughout the entire film. If Ivory had enabled the viewers to really care about one (or more) of the characters, the proceedings would have been more meaningful. As it is, the actions and interactions of these individuals serves only to underscore Le Divorce's tart message about why the Americans and French often disagree. And we need look no further than the current state of international relations for that lesson.
© 2003 James Berardinelli