Showing posts with label Campion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Campion. Show all posts

Friday, October 18, 2024

An Angel at My Table (1990)

UK / Australia / New Zealand / USA, 158 minutes
Director: Jane Campion
Writers: Janet Frame, Laura Jones
Photography: Stuart Dryburth
Music: Don McGlashan
Editor: Veronika Jenet
Cast: Kerry Fox, Alexia Keogh, Karen Fergusson, Iris Churn, Kevin J. Wilson, Melina Bernecker, Glynis Angell, Sarah Smuts-Kennedy, Colin McColl, David Letch

I saw this picture when it was new in 1990 and loved it so much that I bought a one-volume of the Janet Frame memoirs on which it is based. Typically enough, I have been toting it around ever since and still haven’t read it. But the movie, directed by Jane Campion (The Piano, Holy Smoke, The Power of the Dog), still looked pretty darned good to me. It was created originally as a TV miniseries with three parts of about 50 minutes each, suitable for one-hour programming. The three parts, presented here as a “trilogy,” touch on Frame’s childhood, teenage, and adult years (from her memoirs, respectively, To the Is-Land, An Angel at My Table, and The Envoy From Mirror City).

Frame was born in 1924 in New Zealand and grew up at a time and in a place where mental illness was poorly understood. She was withdrawn, introverted, and shy, lost in the fairy tales, poetry, and stories she started reading and writing from a young age. Eventually, as a young adult training to be a teacher, she had a breakdown when an inspector visited her classroom. One thing led to another and then she was diagnosed (incorrectly) as schizophrenic, given electroshock treatments into the 1950s when the treatment was not understood well but administered frequently, and spent some eight years in and out of institutions, often returning voluntarily. An Angel at My Table tells much the whole sad and alarming story (albeit one with a happy ending).

Friday, February 08, 2019

The Piano (1993)

New Zealand / Australia / France, 121 minutes
Director / writer: Jane Campion
Photography: Stuart Dryburgh
Music: Michael Nyman
Editor: Veronika Jenet
Cast: Holly Hunter, Harvey Keitel, Sam Neill, Anna Paquin, Kerry Walker, Genevieve Lemon, Tungia Baker, Ian Mune

The Piano is as close as director and writer Jane Campion has ever got to the mainstream, with the possible exception of her adaptation of Henry James's Portrait of a Lady. It boasts a cast of bona fide Hollywood Oscar hunters, with three actual Oscars won plus nominations for five others, and a decent box office performance for an art film. And make no mistake, The Piano is an art film, with extraordinarily beautiful cinematography, rich with unexpected color and shadows, expert framing, blocking, and camera setups, and a story that feels like a fairy tale parable in its details and like a hallucinatory nightmare in its twists and turns. The Piano looks in one direction to movies such as Nicolas Roeg's mysterious Walkabout, also set Down Under and plumbing the spiritual depths and agonies of a world of empire and aborigines. It looks in another direction to pictures about surviving the isolated wilderness, to Aguirre, the Wrath of God and McCabe & Mrs. Miller and The Revenant, and no stinting on the rain, mud, and general misery.

Ada McGrath (Holly Hunter) is a young Scotswoman who has been mute since the age of 6, as she relates to us early in voiceover: "The voice you hear is not my speaking voice—but my mind's voice. I have not spoken since I was 6 years old. No one knows why—not even me." In other words, please accept this premise on its face. Fortunately, the voiceover device is used sparingly, only at the beginning and end of the picture, and we are otherwise quickly swept up into events that distract us from problems of believability. Hunter's fiercely imagined passion of Ada for music and playing her piano is startling, both in its extremes and in its ability to convince. It's the mid-19th century, and Ada has been promised in marriage by her father to Alisdair Stewart (Sam Neill), a pioneer in the New World of New Zealand who wants a helpmeet on his frontier adventures—someone normal, we can tell instantly. What could possibly go wrong?