Reviews

*CONTAINS SPOILERS* I found Agnes of God to be an extraordinary film. Fonda, Bancroft, and Tilly are an amazing ensemble. The cinematography is beautifully done, and the musical score is more complex than what immediately meets the ear.

The main issue of this film can be stated in one word, faith. Many people have very strong convictions, personal and very valid about the existence of God or the non-existence of God. Although there are a multitude of personal religious and non-religious beliefs about God, when we get to the final analysis, no one really knows for certain if they are correct or not. After many years of Roman Catholic grade school, and even more years as a church organist, one of the themes that I hear over and over again is that faith is the ability to believe without relying on tangible evidence.

With that in mind, if you watch the film for a second time you may realize some things that you did not realize before. For example: Jane Fonda's mother - so wrapped in her religious convictions that even in a state of advanced dementia, she can only talk about her daughters Marie (who died in a convent) and Martha (Fonda) who "had an abortion and is going straight to hell.

Jane Fonda -- a professional woman, an atheist, scarred by early religious training and filled with guilt over the deaths of her sister and one of her childhood friends. In Agnes, she finds a link to her dead sister and the past. She resolves to "save" Agnes (pun intended) and somehow purge herself of the errors of her past. She can't bring back her sister Marie, but she can help Agnes.

Anne Bancroft -- a second career nun finding refuge in her religion, then being discarded by her family.

Meg Tilly -- an obviously disturbed young nun who moves in and out of lucidity at a moment's notice.

What are some of the final results of this mix? Through Agnes, Fonda re-connects with some tiny fragment of spirituality that she holds on to through the end of the film. Bancroft goes from deeply religious, to doubt and back to her position of faith again when Agnes comes to the convent, only to have her faith tested again at the trial. Agnes seems to be the only one that, on the surface at least, is unscathed. But is she? The beautifully enigmatic scene at the end of the film where she is in the bell tower holding the bird and then letting it fly away is heartbreaking. Is she freeing herself from the horror of the past? Or has she become more and more insane and withdrawn from the world?

All three women become changed as a result of their interactions. At a key moment in the action when Fonda asks Bancroft if the believes the baby was divinely conceived, Bancroft in one phrase denies the possiblilty, but moments later says, "I want the choice to believe". By the end of the film, Fonda has pretty much destroyed Bancroft's "choice", yet Fonda comes away with a renewed spirituality of her own -- very underplayed, but if you look carefully, you will sense it.

In conclusion, I feel that the circumstance of Agnes' conception is unimportant in itself. What is important is the catalyst it becomes for all personally involved.

WARNING - CONTAINS SPOILERS

I, like many others who posted reviews of this film saw it as a child, about the same time that I saw "The Innocents". Between the two films, I had many a sleepless night.

I recently purchased the video and watched the film about 30 years after I had first seen it. I won't waste time here duplicating the comments that many have raised about the quality of the production. I agree with all of them.

The one thing that struck me as the most horrifying part of the film was the final line of dialogue that is heard. (I have not seen a review that comments on this, but I have not read all of them.)

SPOILER What is the one thing that frightens Eleanor more than anything else? It's her fear of being "left behind". This is absolutely terrifying to her. So, when we hear her last line of dialogue, "...and we who walk here walk alone.", imagine what that means. Perhaps the hell of her eternal existence is to remain alone -- not even to commune with the other spirits of the house, but to be alone forever.

That's pretty frightening.

As the lights dimmed in the theatre, I was prepared for Gothic mystery, the supernatural, and some good story telling. To my surprise, I discovered that I was not seeing one film, but a combination of three that came to mind almost immediately. Take "The Innocents" (1961) mix with "The Sixth Sense" (1999) and add a drop of "The Night Has Eyes" (1942), and you have "The Others". Much of this film is derivative -- the religion-obsessed maternal figure, the sheltered young brother and sister, and the oh-so-accommodating hired help all set in a nice spooky old house perpetually surrounded by an eternal fog. There are a few plot threads left dangling, to say the least. Discussing those would involve getting into some spoilers, which I never do in films of this type. But then again, you'll probably figure the story out long before the characters on the screen do.

[POSSIBLE SPOILERS] Many times when Hollywood adapts a book for the screen and dramatically alters, truncates, or re-writes it, the result can be pretty bad. I can think of only a few instances when major rewriting of a preexisting work has been successful. Gone with the Wind, The Wizard of OZ, The Good Earth, and Wuthering Heights are examples of classics that are transformed into new works of art that preserve the essence of the original material in many ways, and yet are new and different classics in a new and different medium.

Wuthering Heights opens in a blinding snowstorm. Mr. Lockwood (Miles Mander) is lost on the moors and finds his way to the house of his landlord, Heathcliff (Laurence Olivier). He is forced to stay the night. In the middle of the night, his sleep is disturbed by a rapping sound that he discovers is an outside window shutter. As he reaches out to grasp the shutter, he feels the touch of an icy hand, and he hears a voice call out, "Let me in, it's Cathy.". Lockwood is terrified, and calls out to Heatcliff. After telling Heathcliff what happened, Heathcliff runs out into the blinding snowstorm. An elderly woman, Ellen Dean (Flora Robson), looks on and says, "SHE calls to him... and he follows her out on to the moors..." And so begins the tale of Wuthering Heights, as told in flashback by Ellen, the housekeeper.

The story covers several decades and recounts the thwarted relationship between Heathcliff and Cathy. Olivier is perfect as Heathcliff, Merle Oberon is beautiful as the selfish, immature Cathy who wants it all yet at times isn't quite sure what it is she wants. The supporting cast is perfect -- Geraldine Fitzgerald as Isabella Linton, David Niven as Edgar Linton, and most especially, Flora Robson as Ellen Dean.

This film contains some of the most beautiful black and white cinematography ever created. Gregg Toland created some images that have remained with me for years such as when the window shutter is banging in the wind. The camera then moves to the interior, pans through the room, then through the cobweb coated bed spindles to focus on the agitated Lockwood. Later, when Cathy declares her love for Heathcliff, there is a loud thunderclap and she states, "I AM Heathcliff". At that time there is a blinding flash of lightning that totally washes the screen in light. There is also some wonderful camera work at a party given by the Lintons. Heathcliff arrives, and Cathy does not expect him. There is a scene that goes on for several minutes during which a large Amazon-like woman in playing a rather unmusical rendition of Mozart's Rondo Alla Turca. The camera shifts from Heathcliff to Cathy to Isabella and to the harpsichord player. Not a single word of dialogue is necessary, and you know exactly what is going on in each of their minds. In the final reel, when Cathy is dying, and asks Heatcliff to take her to the window, she says, "I'll wait for you... 'till you come". As she says that line, and her eyes widen, there is a very eerie reflection of light in one eye that lasts for only a second, and seems to be symbolic of her soul leaving her body.

William Wyler's direction is masterful.

This film version of Wuthering Heights stops about midway through the story. In the novel, the children of Cathy and Heathcliff grow up and meet their eventual fates. The novel is much darker and the characters are much more selfish, resentful, and revengeful. Yet, I have no complaint with this movie at all. It's not wrong in its interpretation of the novel, it's just different.

I don't think that I have read a love story that was less romantic in presentation than this novel. Perhaps that is why it is such a fascinating story. Love is not romantic. Love is NECESSARY.

I have seen this film more times that I can count, and there is one scene that always brings me to tears. It's a closeup of Ellen Dean's face, her eyes brimming with tears when she says, "No, [Heathcliff is] not dead, Dr. Kenneth. He's not alone. He's with her. They've only just begun to live. Good bye, Heathcliff. Good bye, my wild sweet Cathy."