Hilary and Jackie
- rated - TEPID
Am I extraordinarily cranky lately? My recent reviews have been pretty
harsh (see Love & Death on Long Island, Bulworth.) . On the other
hand, recent films such as The Truman Show, Happiness and The Thin Red
Line have given me such joy. But Hilary and Jackie?
Anand Tucker, the film's director, set himself a hard task. He was
working from the book A Genius in the Family by Hilary and Piers
DuPré, which is written from the perspective of brother and
sister. The structure of the film attempts to comepensate for this by
dividing into two sections - the first Hilary, the second Jackie. But
of course the source material is all Hilary (and, it seems,
surprisingly little Piers). So the Jackie section of the film feels
false. It might have been a smart idea to tell Hilary's story, and then
reprise the story from Jackie's point of view, but the theory doesn't
quite come off in practice. There are a few revelations in the second
section of the film, but not enough to compensate for the downside of
repeating the material.
This is not helped by the showy performance of Emily Watson as Jackie.
Emily was so terrific in Lars von Trier's Breaking the Waves.. Here she
just rolls her eyes, holds out her arms like a child wanting to be
picked up, and thrashes her beautiful blonde wig about (this hair is
seriously good - it deserved an Academy Award nomination of its own!).
I never believed she was playing the cello, and there was never any
true musical rapture. To me it seemed a performance based on mannerism.
In contrast, Rachel Griffith is superb. Her performance is subtle,
restrained, intelligent and penetrating. When she plays the flute, she
makes it her own. Hilary is a difficult role to play, and Rachel does
it with finesse: she gives a tremendous dignity to a woman whose life
is in many ways defined by what it lacks.
Of the supporting cast, Celia Imrie's performance as Iris du Pré
was one of the few which rang true for me. And what a shock it was to
discover that it was Nyree Dawn Porter who played Dame Margot Fonteyn!
She is only on-screen for a couple of moments, and yet she makes a most
chilling impression. Bill Paterson has a pivotal role as Jackie's cello
teacher, and he too puts his firm stamp on the role.
The music in the film is all-pervasive, and there is quite a lot of
variety in it. However, Elgar's Cello Concerto is overused (more
repetition) and I got to the point where I was predicting when it would
appear again.
Visually, the film was occasionally interesting. The early scenes,
which take place on a beach when the sisters are little, were
promising. There were some interesting visual techniques used there,
and in some of the scenes at Kiffer and Hilary's cottage in the
country. But the beach scenes, though good to look at, weren't
convincing. The little girls were too abviously "acting" in those
scenes, and the device with the mystery woman (with long blonde hair
and dressed in a purple 70s fur lined coat - guess whothat might be?)
just didn't come off. Also, the director is a little too fond of
circling with the camera. This happened so often (around the young
girls, around Jackie in performance, around Jackie and Danny in bed)
that I felt dizzy. But one magnificent scene stands out - when Jackie
plays in concert against a red wall, it's just fabulous. In this scene
the sound is used to indicate Jackie's pain, and it is very effective
indeed.
Costumes in this film were designed by the very talented Sandy Powell
(Shakespeare in Love, Velvet Goldmine). Here, she gives us beautiful
gowns for Jackie's concerts, in bright, bright colours, but the rest of
the costumes (particularly for the woman) were simply overpowering. I
felt as if I were in a Powerhouse Museum history-of-fashion exhibit.
You just couldn't take your eyes off the appalling ensembles these
sisters wore. Sure, it was the 70s, but this was just cliché.
Hell, I was around in the 70s: everybody had a few appalling items in
their wardrobe, but nobody wore them all at once!
So am I unfair about this film? I don't think so. But then again, I saw
the film in a theatre one afternoon with 40 weeping women. Somebody had
to stand against the tide!