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Cold Mountain
**
Cinema
Review - December 2003
Rated on a 4-star scale. Certificate 15. USA.
152 minutes. Written and directed by Anthony Minghella; based on the novel
by Charles Frazier. Produced by Albert Berger, William Horberg, Sydney Pollack,
Ron Yerxa. Starring Jude Law, Nicole Kidman, Renée Zellweger, Donald
Sutherland, Ray Winstone, Brendan Gleeson, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Natalie
Portman, Kathy Baker, James Gammon, Giovanni Ribisi, Eileen Atkins, Charlie
Hunnam, Jena Malone, Ethan Suplee, Jack White, Lucas Black, Jay Tavare, Melora
Walters, Taryn Manning.
Here is a movie of letters withering in slow-burning
flames, snow falling down on 17th Century ranches, long hair defiantly dancing
amid the bitter breeze. A movie of big dramatic pauses before firmly romantic
lines, of gazes into the distance, of heroes and villains who drip with a
historical type of grit, and of landscapes, and landscapes, and
landscapes.
Don't get me wrong. "Cold Mountain"
is not just empty Oscar bait; I don't really think it was made with
cynicism and egomania, and I've seen movies that strain harder and phonier
to suck out tears or seem grand impressive. But we're on the right lines
here. Whatever story Anthony Minghella was trying to tell when he agreed
to adapt the Charles Frazier book, it's long gone out of focus. I get the
feeling Minghella was so confident after "The English Patient" and "Talented
Mr. Ripley", and the crew was so happy to go along with his confidence, and
the studio was so basking in the Oscar buzz that's been around this project
from the start, that they rested on the screenplay blindly and sat around
in awe of the beauty they were capturing. This movie isn't about anything
except its own literary preciousness -- we don't care about the characters,
there isn't much sweep to speak of and all that's left are landscapes, sweet
landscapes.
Oh, maybe the movie thinks it's about an actual
story. Nicole Kidman is there in poverty in the middle of the Civil War,
tending the North Carolina farm left by her late daddy. Jude Law is wandering
back from the army to see her; he deserted, and now has to get away from
lawmen while meetin' a whole buncha folks, some kindly, some kooky, some
normal, some mean. She's going through the last act of "Gone With the Wind",
he's having a random cross-country journey that we smart cultural types are
always obliged to call a reference to "The Odyssey". In cutting between their
stories, "Cold Mountain" tells of wartime suffering, and how the bond of
love keeps hope alive, even though the lovers are apart.
It should have worked. It doesn't, because the
rhythm is way off. Whether we're watching the domestic struggles of Kidman
or Law doing moody wandering, scenes run on randomly, and don't build into
a structure with arc or emphasis. They're also performed woodenly -- I was
moved in "The English Patient" when Ralph Fiennes played Almasy as brooding
with depression and longing; I am not moved by Nicole Kidman tensing her
face and losing all traces of smile for the sake of Drama.
Kidman is joined by Renee Zellweger, who does
some sort of godawful rootin', tootin' Calamity Jane routine. She stomps
around the ranch, screeches in a more exaggerated Southern accent than any
actress from the South could possibly have an excuse for, and gets to say,
"I cried one tear for ma daddy, I stole it offa crocodile!" There's another
awful accent from Ray Winstone, who starts his sentences kinda normal, drifts
into Cockney, catches himself doing it and jerks into an over-the-top hick
sheriff voice before grunting to a halt. The whole movie is filled with big-name
character actors: Donald Sutherland, Natalie Portman, Philip Seymour Hoffman,
Giovanni Ribisi. Even Jack White has a supporting role; that'll draw the
teen crowd. "Cold Mountain" becomes a spot-the-personality game; every time
one of these people pop up, they're distracting, and we reflect on how much
fun Minghella must be having with his train set.
Maybe the actors explain how this thing cost over
$100m and became the most expensive movie ever sole-financed by Miramax.
As much as it wants to come across as full of aura and visual poetry, the
look of it isn't that rich. It's not the colour or the camera movement or
the depth of composition that makes it look good, it's the natural beauty
of America. Or Romania, or wherever it was filmed. Lanscapes,
landscapes…
COPYRIGHT©
2003 Ian Waldron-Mantgani
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