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Gosford Park
***1/2
Cinema Releases - February 1, 2002
Rated on a 4-star scale. Certificate 15. 143
minutes. Directed by Robert Altman. Written by Julian Fellowes; from an idea
by Robert Altman, Bob Balaban. Starring Michael Gambon, Kristin Scott Thomas,
Camilla Rutherford, Maggie Smith, Charles Dance, Geraldine Sommerville, Tom
Hollander, Natasha Wightman, Jeremy Northam, Bob Balaban,. Alan Bates, Helen
Mirren, Eileen Atkins, Derek Jacobi, Emily Watson, Richard E. Grant, Jeremy
Swift, Kelly Macdonald, Clive Owen, Ryan Phillippe, Stephen
Fry.
Perhaps the very making of "Gosford Park"
came from Robert Altman's sardonic sense of humour. The filmmaker's
abilities to view pretensions with merciless wit and tell stories with many
characters are reminiscent of Agatha Christie -- and now, as if trying to
nudge us into seeing the parallel, Altman gives us a murder mystery in an
English country house.
The film takes place in 1932, on a posh rural estate
where a Lord played by Michael Gambon is holding a weekend shooting party.
He's a pompous, gruff and sinister old sod, but of course he's a member of
the upper class, and so must make sure that he is seen to be a man of lavish
hospitality. His wife, played by Kristin Scott Thomas, does her best to schmooze
and keep up her smile as the guests arrive... guests such as Maggie Smith,
an incorrigible snob who relies on someone else for income but nonetheless
maintains a demeanour of icy superiority that makes everyone feel put in
their place; Tom Hollander, a man paranoid about being mocked for marrying
below his station; Natasha Wightman, the unfortunate wife in question; Jeremy
Northam, as real-life figure Ivor Novello, who charms the younger ladies
of the house and causes the elders to roll their eyes; and Bob Balaban, a
Hollywood producer, who is of course made to feel like a gauche moron, as
Americans must be in gatherings like these.
Below stairs, the lives of the servants have as
much drama as those of their employers. Helen Mirren and Eileen Atkins are
heads of different branches of staff, engaging in a barely spoken but clearly
tangible rivalry. Alan Bates is the master's butler, a guy who marches with
carriage and veneer but fails to convince. Richard E. Grant skips around
the dining room with perfect efficiency, occasionally retiring to the kitchen
for a ciggy and some gossip. Emily Watson is a seasoned maid and Kelly Macdonald
is somewhat less experienced, but seeing as the two of them are sharing a
room for the weekend, they manage to form a bond good enough for some solid
girls' talk. Clive Owen does his thing as a strong and silent chap, somewhat
foreboding and certainly interesting. Ryan Phillippe is a Scottish valet
who, hmm, yes, everyone seems to agree is not quite right.
"Gosford Park" has been directed by Altman and
written by Julian Fellowes with sharp attention to detail and flow; the movie
rarely stops to explain relationships or customs, and yet it never confuses
us. The cast is made up of seasoned professionals and rising stars who give
specific flavours to each character, and we get a detailed sense of the snobbery
on both decks. In the servants' quarters, there's catty protection of emotional
hierarchy. Among the society folk there is that famously fastidious sense
of propriety; it's not that these people really care about clothes or cutlery
or decorum, but that they feel some kind of duty to whisper and smirk and
imply foul whenever anyone strays.
Witness how the Smith character never directly
insults anyone, but seems to be doing it all the time... she repeats things
that are said to her as if they're the most curious in the world, and acts
as if being with these people and keeping up a weak smile requires the absolute
maximum of energy. And witness the aghast face on Hollander when his wife
starts crying in bed. "Stop whimpering," he declares priggishly, "They'll
think you're Italian!"
At one point in the weekend there is a murder,
and nobody has a clue who could have done it. We in the audience wonder how
it could be possible to track a killer among this huge cast of characters,
but amusingly enough it never occurs to the houseguests that the servants
could be involved. It's not that they have trust for members of the working
class; they just don't really register their existence.
A detective played by Steven Fry is assigned to
the case, and lurches onto the estate with utter buffoonery. "There's a broken
coffee cup, here, sir!" says one of his assistants, trying to point out evidence.
"For goodness' sake, constable," retorts Fry, "They have people to clear
those things up!"
"Gosford Park" seems so relentlessly mocking and
unfeeling that I found myself surprised by the final minutes, which I will
not hint at except to say that they contain some powerful emotional truth.
The film would, however, work perfectly well without that -- it is beautifully
made, slyly crafted, and above all, funny. Altman's last picture, "Dr. T
& the Women", was a mess of flavour and tone, but here the great artist
is back in command of his material, knowing exactly where he's going and
how to keep our attention.
COPYRIGHT©
2002 Ian Waldron-Mantgani
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