Reviews

If this were strictly a horror movie, it could be criticized for starting out very slow. We get lots of background info about the leads, a married couple consisting of a wife who is newly pregnant, and a rock-band husband who is dedicated to a life of footloose irresponsibility, and is opposed to the concept of settling down and raising a family. He does not know that his wife is pregnant, and she is understandably reluctant to tell him. She wants a family; he doesn't. She has mysterious and wonderful new life growing inside of her, and he wants to go on tour and play music and have fun, as he always has. It's not that he's a bad person: he just doesn't want to grow up and give up rock-and-roll NeverNeverLand.

This couple goes into the woods and encounters a band of Lost Boys carousing, shooting off guns, drinking, whooping-and-hollering, riding noisy 4-wheeler off-road vehicles, and just being total jackasses and jerks--evading responsibility for their lives and proud of it. When will they grow up? Never.

Opposed to this band of boys who can't grow up, dangerous creatures lurk in the woods, hidden and deadly. The key scene in the film occurs when one of these creatures slowly reveals herself to Dana (the pregnant protagonist), and gradually morphs from monster into something more recognizably human. Now less threatening, the female creature touches Dana's belly, establishing the identification between her condition and primordial nature.

This, I think, is the basic paradigm of this symbolic fable. The world of Man is so split off that Nature has become monstrous and deadly. The film is a fable expressed through a horror movie. But really, the same could be said of many "horror movies." If a viewer is expecting a pure action horror, the film is likely to be disappointing. But there is much more going on here. And, thankfully, this is not another found-footage shaky-cam horror flick. Cinematography is good (as is the direction and acting). I'll likely watch this again.

"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone" and yet, like the main character in "The Cremation of Sam McGee," the protagonist of "Whitewash" plods on, putting one foot in front of the other, stumbling from misadventure to misadventure, somehow managing to sustain the dim glow of life that really has no basis to exist in the midst of all this freezing indifference: (again from 'Sam McGee'): "The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in." The human spirit strives on, perhaps pointlessly. As Hamlet asks, "What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven and earth?" In "Whitewash," the meaningless response is: freeze our butts off, that's what. Or, a fellow can build an igloo and sit in the middle of it and talk to himself, explaining his guilt and victimization to the uncaring frost vapor in front of his face. The only way "out" is death, but perhaps that's a "cop-out," a betrayal of the spirit. After "saving" him from suicide, Bruce later "helps" the dishonorable Paul find that "out," and Paul's smiling corpse attests to the macabre victory of his release: "I could swear to God he was smiling," which is reminiscent of Sam McGee: "And he wore a smile you could see a mile . . . "

This is one of those movies that starts out with a bizarre incident and then, by means of a series of flashbacks interspersed through the narrative, explains how that critical mishap came-to-pass. This always confuses me at first, until I realize what's going on. In this case, the narrative tapestry develops into a solid work of art. The threads in this tapestry are grounded by a brilliant and unusual soundtrack, much of it original to the film, credited to Serge Nakauchi Pelletier. Indeed, it is so unique that it at times seems to be defining its own genre: "arctic ambient." The "whitewash" cinematography is so cold and relentless that the mood gradually permeates the bones. Brrrrrrrrrrrr! And what pitch-perfect understated acting! Thomas Haden Church's lonely monotone soliloquies keep himself meager company throughout the film, and his deadpan delivery is perfect for the role.

I cannot find any fault in this film. It's lean and mean and doesn't waste any strokes. It stands by itself in its essential cinematic niche. It's "classic," in a word. Hooray for director Emanuel Hoss-Desmarais and everyone involved.

This is a wonderful movie--my favorite comedy of all-time, and it's based on a truly classic novel, first published in 1932. In Flora Poste, "Robert Poste's child," Stella Gibbons created one of the enduring characters in the great canon of English Literature. Part Thoroughly Modern Millie and part Mary Poppins, this unflappable and distinctively British neo-flapper is always totally in control. She can't be bought. She can't be sold. She can't be baited (although she can be dated--but only on her own terms). And she always knows which end is up, and exactly what's what. She's urbane and hip, but she likes to preserve neatness and cherishes a sense of order: "Nature's all very well in her place, but she mustn't be allowed to make things untidy . . . " Sounds like Mary Poppins! And like Mary, Flora is going to enter a dysfunctional household and set things right. (And like Mary, after "mission accomplished," she will fly off into the sky at the end.)

It is most "diverting" to watch Flora repeatedly go nose to nose with the dirty, loutish and intimidating Starkadders without blinking or losing one bit of her composure and equanimity. As for Kate Beckinsale's performance as Flora, It's hard to imagine that this demure and perfectly controlled actress is the same person who will later play the sexy vampire warrior Selene who specializes in killing werewolves in the horror-action series "Underworld." But perhaps the werewolves of Underworld are not so different from the Starkadders of Cold Comfort, whom she also subdues, but in a more genteel fashion, and without any blood and gore. In both cases, Kate is triumphant (and does Kate Beckinsale remind anybody else of Kate Middleton? Watch "Serendipity.")

Other delights of Cold Comfort: Joanna Lumley as Mrs. Mary Smiling: watch this familiar vivacious actress command a scene and hold a conversation with her eyes. Oh, and Joanna still has lots of "it"; that's her as Aunt Emma in "The Wolf of Wall Street."

Stephen Fry as Mr. Mybug. Pseudo-intellectual pomposity played to perfection. My favorite line: "let me warn you. I'm a queer, moody brute, but there's rich soil in here if you care to dig for it." His plan to write a treatise proving that Branwell Bronte was actually the author of the classics written by his sisters is hilarious.

But my favorite scene in the entire movie is when Amos Starkadder (played by Ian McKellen) in his role as hellfire and brimstone amateur evangelist preacher, delivers his fiery sermon to the "Church of the Quiverin' Brethren." Yes, the congregation actually quivers and shakes as Amos taunts them with the tortures that await them all: "You know what it's like when you burn your hand takin' a cake out of the oven or lighting one of them Godless cigarettes? And it stings with a fearful pain. Aye? And you run to clap a bit of butter on it to take the pain away, aye? Aye. Well, I'll tell ye. THERE'LL BE NO BUTTER IN HELL!"

And of course I must mention horrible old Aunt Ida Doom, whose refrains "I saw something nasty in the woodshed" and "There's always been Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm" are the mantras that maintain her tyrannical control over the homestead--the demonic spells with which Flora must contend. And there's much more! Every role is perfectly cast, and played to perfection. This film is truly a must-see. A whole-hearted 10 out of 10 stars.

First of all, it must be realized that this movie has an unusual structure: at 48 minutes into the film, we see Monica Bellucci's beautiful hand appear on the shower door before she enters and gets really STEAMING wet. This is her first appearance in the film. This stunning sequence is really where the plot's timeline begins; run the movie to the end, then start it again at the beginning, and you will have the "correct" temporal storyline. The amorous tussle at the beginning of the film is not Pierfrancesco and Monica, but Pierfrancesco and Kseniya Rappoport (a real dish also). We don't see Monica Bellucci until the movie is half over, but she quickly makes her tardy appearance worth the wait. But the relationship between Pierfrancesco and Monica (In which, if you can believe it, scruffy sad-sack Pierfrancesco cruelly dumps a gorgeous Monica), actually occurs before the relationship between Pierfrancesco and Kseniya, in which Pier becomes the heartbroken dumpee. Or, Another way to say this is that the 2nd half of the movie, after Monica's hand appears on the shower door, is a big flashback. Pierfrancesco dumps Monica before he gets dumped by Kseniya. He had it coming! Am I going to feel sorry for him? After dumping Monica Bellucci? No way! Suffer, you pitiful Gloomy Gus! What goes around comes around! Gee whiz--I sure hope poor Monica is able to find someone else who will love her . . .

There is a lot to like about this film. The cinematography is spectacular. The prevailing mood is blue, and we get lots of bluish scenes, in which bright spots of color stand out in contrast. Many of the scenes are dark and sepia-toned, also befitting the mood, and chiaroscuro is often used to great effect. The outdoor scenes in lake country are quite beautiful. Pierfrancesco's pharmacist boss is a very strong character--an actual wise woman. When she speaks, I listen. The subplot involving Pier's gay brother (also a dumpee) is handled well, and their parents come alive as real people. This film could be really depressing, but it's not--and this is because the artistry of the production can only make us smile. And the film has a nice moral: "Dump not, so that ye be not dumped." Director Maria Sole Tognazzi is to be commended!

I must confess to a certain prejudice. I've never been to France, and my only experience of the French people is through movies. Consequently, I have been conditioned to love French women and hate French men. This film is a rich tapestry of weak and repulsive characters--particularly the "men." The arrogant egomaniac "Quentin," played by Lambert Wilson, is so sociopathic, annoying, and chauvinistic that when he is flattened by an auto early in the film, I felt like cheering. But alas! He comes back as a ghost, to haunt poor helpless cute little Nina (Binoche), who has been charmed out of her knickers by this abominable and sadistic Romeo. The other "man" that attracts Nina's interest is a wimpy and whiny lovelorn real-estate agent, played by Wadeck Stanczak, whose masculinity is pre-pubescent. Another inexplicable male character is an older "man," a director in the theater, who worships Quentin, even though Quentin-Romeo irresponsibly killed off his own daughter (who was playing Juliet) in a car wreck. This director also sees something very promising in Juliette's abysmal audition to play Juliet in his new production of the play, presumably because she reminds him of his own daughter and is also infatuated somehow with God's gift to the stage, talented Romeo-Quentin.

On the plus side, the film does afford us a fleeting glimpse of "Binoche's binush," (as a previous commenter perceptively observed), and therefore earned the two stars of my rating. To be sure, the "binush" in question looks very much like other binushes the world over, but the fact that it is revealed by one destined for future stardom seems to give it special significance.

Q--What is a "red herring?" A--A rotting fish dragged across a fugitive's trail in order to confuse the pursuing hounds. Figuratively, in literature and film, it is a plot device used to mislead the reader/viewer into drawing false premises as to what is really going on. How's this for a "red herring": a huge gorilla peeks out the castle window as the heroine arrives, and hairy hands are later seen committing murder. Throats are slit with a straight razor. Do we have a suspect? Or how about this: vampirism is repeatedly mentioned in hushed tones as a suspected plague in the MacGrieff family. Moreover, when a family member is buried, if a cat follows the coffin to the tomb, it is rumored that the corpse will come back as a vampire. Well, the cat follows a family member's corpse to the graveyard, and the tomb is later found to be empty. Could vampires be involved? And so it goes. The red herrings are dragged around so frequently that the whole film smells very fishy. Of course, the real killer is . . . (spoiler???) . . . the one character who smells the least fishy.

Okay--so this is not a film to challenge your deductive reasoning. It is however, fun to watch. The Gothic atmospherics are plastered on with a very large spatula. The detective, as brief as his appearances are, is a real original, and could have easily become the main figure in a Poirot-Columbo style film series. There is also a bit of appealing gratuitous nudity, featuring the striking German actress Doris Kunstmann. Lurid? You bet!!!