Wednesday, October 5, 2022

Settling the Scorsese: The Age of Innocence

This is the fifth in my 2022 bi-monthly series in which I finish the Martin Scorsese narrative features that I haven't yet seen. 

However the previous four films in this series went -- and there was finally one I liked in August -- I knew that I probably had a treat in store come October.

I've read Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence, and by that I mean I listened to an unabridged audio book of it back in 2012, when I was commuting between the San Fernando Valley and my office in El Segundo, which regularly took the better part of an hour. You can have your own definition of reading if you want, but if I listen to every word of a book I consider myself to have read it.

And I loved it. I got caught up in Wharton's writing and in the wistful romance at the film's core, plus in how it resolved itself. We've all had an ache for a person we could not have because it conflicted with our values, or some other part of our reality. Wharton's novel captures that melancholy perfectly, and then some.

And so does Scorsese's film, I'm glad to report. 

Yes I really liked The Age of Innocence, but I'm trying to decide how much of that credit to give to the film, and how much to give to the source material. 

If I had not read the book, I'd just be like "Great film, 4.5 stars." Since I've read the book, I might instead be like "Great film, 4 stars." (I still haven't entered my star rating on Letterboxd as I try to work this out.) 

I'll talk about the things the film does well as a film, but first, a little plot synopsis.

It's New York high society of 1870. Daniel Day-Lewis' character, Newland Archer, is from one powerful family, and he's betrothed to a young woman from another powerful family, May Welland, played by Winona Ryder. Another relation of the Wellands is the Countess Ellen Oleska (Michelle Pfeiffer), whose Polish count husband she has left back in Poland due to his philandering and other disgraceful behavior. Because society tends to shun women who walk out on their marriages, she is having trouble being received in polite New York society upon her return, though with the help of May, Newland and their various other family, friends and acquaintances, she starts to make headway as a woman living on her own in the city in which she was raised as a child.

Newland is brought into greater acquaintance with the countess when his legal expertise is called upon to advise her in the matter of her desired divorce from her husband. A bit of a proto feminist, Newland starts to be taken in by the countess and her poignant fight for her own freedom -- a largely symbolic fight since she already enjoys the freedom of being an ocean away from her husband, possibly never to see him again. As his admiration turns into attraction, and the attraction becomes mutual, Newland pushes for a shorter engagement to May, feeling like being married will answer the question of his split attentions. It isn't as simple as that for any of them, including May, who rightly suspects his reasons for hastening the marriage, even though he denies them and even though she feigns believing what he says.

I'm not sure why The Age of Innocence struck me more profoundly than other stories about star-crossed lovers. I feel like the sort of romantic period of American history, combined with Wharton's splendid writing, could be the reason. Though there are a lot of people who write splendidly and a lot of periods of history that are romantic in their way.

I suppose it captures in a particularly poignant way that feeling of being in a relationship, a relationship that you really value, while also feeling your heart pulled in another direction. It's something everyone has experienced at some point in their lives, and it creates an extraordinary sense of tumult in a person's mind. I think Wharton's novel really captures that tumult.

We see that most in this film in Day-Lewis' performance, the small changes in his expression at the receipt of new information, the struggle to produce a facade of ease for his wife, when he feels anything but ease. Although the attraction between Newland and the countess is not based on anything hugely dramatic, such as an intense mutual experience, we believe its development and we believe that these kindred spirits would reach out to each other in a society that doesn't think the way they do.

It's clear why Scorsese was drawn to the material, and would become even more clear in the context of Gangs of New York nearly ten years later. Although his film career was forged in modern-day New York, Scorsese yearns for an understanding of the city that dates back hundreds of years, or 120 years in this case. The sets have been magnificently created and lovingly detailed, and Scorsese's camera takes in every detail. It may be no surprise that coming off of Goodfellas, whose Copa tracking shot is one of its most famous components, Scorsese would provide a similar tracking shot here, through a mansion during a ball. We get acquainted with the players in this society just as we got acquainted with the mobsters at the Copa.

He also uses a trick that I've seen before, that I remember from films like Bram Stoker's Dracula and Moulin Rouge!, where there's a soft focus "spotlight" of sorts drawn around two characters, to isolate them from the hubbub around. In this case it's between, of course, our two romantic leads at the opera. There's a classic feel to it, and the cinematography here resembles something from maybe two decades earlier. I couldn't help but think of something like Barry Lyndon.

Scorsese's Christian themes are, fortunately, not foregrounded here, though I assume they're lurking somewhere in the background that I didn't specifically notice.

I was compelled to look for a thing that I always heard about The Age of Innocence, which is that there is a careless modern-day wrist watch in one of the shots, or something of that nature. But googling it now, I see I must have confused this with another film because I can't see anything about it. 

In summary this is an extremely handsome and well-acted film, my favorite in the series so far, but maybe not something that I expect to dwell on in the coming weeks -- even as much as I love the themes it addresses. Whether it's because Scorsese isn't the perfect match for the material, or just that his specific interests don't bring more out of it than what is native to the source material itself, I'm not sure. Hey, I shouldn't have to be arguing myself into thinking it's Great, when many films are merely great. This is one of those films.

I'll wrap up in December with Kundun, assuming I find a place to get my hands on it. The pickings are slim right now on that front. 

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