shadow cat

Atonement

I have not read the novel by Ian McEwan on which Atonement is based, so I judge the film solely on what I experienced in the theatre. From the very first moments of the film as we are led through the dark wooded halls of a stately mansion set in the soft green of the English countryside, we know we are embarking on a sumptuous visual feast. But it is far more than that. The stylishly studied stances of the characters, their dialogue, and the repetitious tapping of typewriter keys interwoven into a magnificent score all combine to create an unmistakable undercurrent that tells us something is looming, something is about to break, and we sense that we are not alone in our observations and interpretations. Someone else, someone who exists within the film is observing the events as well. It's as if the person is partly in and partly out of the story--interpreting what she sees and thinks she knows--chronicling the truth or other versions. . .

A crisp, very English girl of thirteen, Briony Tallis, (played so well by Saoirse Ronan) lives her life primarily through the stories she writes, crafted feverishly while remaining hidden in the tall grass of the estate. When we first meet her, she has just finished writing her first play. With purpose and determination, central to her character, we see her nearly fly through the halls and down the steps of the huge house as she proceeds to deliver it to her mother, who praises her for her accomplishment. Soon after, we find Briony in her room. She is standing by the window, gazing out onto the extensive grounds of the estate--observing, interpreting, and imagining. . .

The camera zooms in on her clear blue eyes as she catches a glimpse of her older sister, Cecilia (Keira Knightly) together with the housekeeper's son, Robbie (Jame McAvoy). Cecilia, in what seems like a dramatic gesture borne of anger and revenge, removes her dress and submerges herself in the water to retrieve a piece of broken vase. She emerges from the water with her sheer flesh-colored underthings stuck to her body--an image of striking beauty. There is a suspended moment when she and Robbie stare at each other with an intensity that is only partially masked by their actions. We suspect they are about to fall into each other's arms and give in to desires that are so near the surface. But instead Robbie gazes at her in a brilliant combination of raw desire and restraint. And we already know he's in love with her. Then she quickly steps back into her dress. Carefully evading his touch, she stomps away, apparantly still angry, as Robbie continues to watch her in fascination and desire. Briony takes in the scene. It is clear she is perplexed and troubled by what she saw, but not as much as she will later be by the scene she ferrets out in the library. Striken with adolescent love for Robbie, Briony's subsequent actions will prove doomful for all three. . .

The story captured me from the first moment. The cinematography was nothing short of exquisite, as was the acting, as was the direction--be it the intensely sexual scene (without nudity) in the library to the painful images of soldiers in the London hospital or the scenes of agonized, desperate, and confused soldiers on the beach in Northern France. Having not read the book, I don't know if the device of seeing the particular part of a sequence of events as Briony sees it, followed by our viewing of the sequnce of events that led to the moment was a directorial device, if it was the way it was written in the screenplay by Christopher Hampton, or if it was the way it was written in the novel. In any case, it's a fascinating way to see a story unfold--another way the film spellbinds the audience. I was hardly aware of real time passing by. I existed, for a suspended time, in the film.

Reviewer A.O. Scott of the New York Times may write intelligent, in depth reviews. But his review of this film is jaded at best. Rather than allow himself to enjoy it on its own merits, he finds it necessary to compare it to the novel and pierce it with his callous and academic criticism, refusing to be seduced by its beauty and its extensive merits. Out of jealousy perhaps. Somehow reminiscent of what the character Briony would do.

Directed by Joe Wright, with music by Dario Marianelli, and a spectacular cameo by Vanessa Redgrave as the old Briony, Atonement is surely headed for an assortment of Academy Awards. And I can't think of one it wouldn't deserve.