Posted: 01/02/02© 2002 Filmmonthly.com Affair Of The Necklace (2001)
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Trouble
is evident during the main title sequence. Any hope of stylistic cohesion
is destroyed during the opening credits by the choice of music, which is
probably lovely on the stereo but absurdly emotive in contrast to the coldness
of the opening images of the Necklace that wreaks such havoc in pre-Revolutionary
France. My only guess is that pretty shots of cut glass (or diamonds even)
just don' t convey passion for an inanimate object, so someone decided that
music should convey its power. While the concept may be sound, the execution
leaves much to be desired.The rest of the film seems to suffer from the reverse problem. Much of the execution is adequate (if uninspired or uninspiring), but the concept seems trite. For audiences inundated with reality shows such as Survivor, Temptation Island or even those programs' "lighter" cousins like Elimidate, the scheming of The Affair Of The Necklace is old news. As a result, a film of this type needs to mine the territory in such a way as to shed insight on the human nature that we see nightly on our television screens. Instead, we have a film that relies on voice over narration to explain all the machinations going on, in effect robbing the film of any drama or scandal, much less insight. It is not Hilary Swank who is out of her depth here, but rather director Charles Shyer whose primary claims to fame are as director of Father Of The Bride and Father Of The Bride Part II. Not exactly the kinds of films that would lead one to believe that he could helm a film that wants to be 2001's Dangerous Liaisons, especially when written by John Sweet whose previous credits are two television movies.
Contesse Jeanne de la Motte-Valois (Swank), a young woman of aristocratic birth, whose family has fallen from grace, struggles to regain her family's estate. She first tries the "proper channels" only to be repeatedly rebuffed. She becomes more daring, trying to take her plea to Marie Antoinette, believing that another woman would understand better than a man. Antoinette ignores her completely, and ultimately it is a young man (Simon Baker) who comes to her aid. Rétaux de Villette has found a way to curry favor within the Royal Court by lavishing his attention upon its older women, though after seeing the Contesse, he is eager to take her on as his pupil in the art of securing patronage. Soon consummating their arrangement, the two stumble their way through a rambling plan to raise the Contesse' station in the eyes of the Royal Court so that they might hear her petition for restoration of her family home and name. This plan begins with a fraud against the currently-in-disfavor Cardinal (Jonathan Pryce) in order to receive his patronage (i.e., money). Intrigued by the Contesse' new found and growing prestige (i.e., money), her wayward husband (Adrien Brody) comes home to find a love nest that no longer includes him.
Though based on real events, the scheme(s) seem foolhardy and destined for failure from the outset. More complex human strategies are seen on any reality show you can name, which is not saying much. Perhaps the script is written so as not to confuse us, for certainly the intrigues of courtly life are often reported as intricate, but somehow the characters' motivations manage to be simplistic and confusing at the same time. Two moments in the film -- the first meeting between the Contesse and the Cardinal and the climactic confrontation between Contesse Jeanne de la Motte-Valois and Marie Antoinette - hint at what this film could have been. When all is said and done, the film-that-is seems to be an extended anecdote demonstrating Marie Antoinette's ignorance or misjudgment of the people and situations around her. This may be why the film, which spends most of its time with the Contesse, seems oddly remote and passionless.
The Contesse' passion is for her home and the return of her birthright. Presented as the motivation for all of her actions in the film, this passion never really burns brightly as it is snuffed out by a series of poor decisions on the parts of both her and the filmmakers. Joe Steiff teaches film at Columbia College in Chicago. |