BEING JULIA (Serendipity 2004) Alliance Atlantis Home Entertainment

Istvan Zabo’s Being Julia (2004) is an often frank, but occasionally meandering, if never anything less than amusing, critique of an actress’ life upon the wicked stage, circa 1920’s. Plushly padded in Lajos Koltai’s cinematography and Mychael Danna’s highly romantic underscore – absolute stand-outs, the movie is submarined by a flimsy screenplay from Ronald Harwood, a thinly veiled attempt to capture the essence of Somerset Maugham’s 1937 novel, Theatre. Salvaging the enterprise is its star, Annette Bening, who assails the mediocrity of the plot to deliver a marvelously nuanced performance, delineating the struggles of a woman – in love with life, her philandering hubby (played with slithery charm by Jeremy Irons), but mostly with herself, and, of course, the stage, on which all of life’s brunt and badinage are eventually played out. Bening’s title character lends the picture an air of light-headed, heedless vivacity, never entirely matched by Szabo's bloodless direction nor Harwood's faltered plotting. Even so, Bening manages to make something of the story, the tightrope of her temperamental psyche attenuated to its anticlimax, turned asunder by Bening transforming everything into sheer charade. As it turns out, Being Julia is a far more psychological complex effort by Bening than as written. But the star presumes a great deal about this character, transparently taken to her bosom, and thus emerges, through her dynamism and vigor, as purely a sensation of her own unique design.

Ironically, Being Julia would have been a much more effective picture had it not adhered so closely to Maugham’s decidedly dated premise. I suspect Szabo was going for a sort of Lubitsch-esque Euro-sophistication here; indulging in the champagne cocktail elegance and froth of this bygone era. But the amusements to be derived herein are all on the actors – Bening, first and foremost as the frenetic, frazzled, fun-loving and forthright grand dame of the theater; Irons, as her droll husband and manager, taking up the lion’s share of acting high points. Still, the picture is Bening’s to command, as she does – seemingly without a great deal of rehearsed effort, but more so, channeling the spectacular gargoyle of fast-fading youth and its devastating effects on the ego of a diva, unwilling, as yet, to surrender, either to fate or folly, slathered in slinky gowns and mink-lined wraps – the warrior-like trappings of a phoenix, yet given over to taking its last flight. Bening is obviously having a great deal of fun being Julia - outrageously sad and happy in tandem, less of the theatrical sophisticate once the curtain has come down and she can let, however briefly, that glycerin smile to slip just a little and reveal her rank cynicism and disillusionment in her private life.

Arguably, what the picture desperately needed to truly click was a distinctly tight-upper-lipped British flavor for that societal examination a la Maugham’s particular brand of critiquing its uber-stylish scruples.  Alas, as a Canadian production, with an American star, cobbled together by a Hungarian director working in Budapest, the discomfiture and dearth of any deep-rooted intelligence instead translates into a total emasculation of the sobriety within the drama, while as much deprived of any honorable or profoundly sensible good humor to experience life for the fractured folly that it usually is. Bening can chew up the scenery all she likes – and does – but it’s still a stilted backdrop of oddities she is forced to confront. And although, like her alter ego, she obviously savors the opportunity to command the whole show, her ambitions remain largely unrealized within this Tiffany-set, feather-weight fluff. Bening’s grand dame of the theater is Julia Lambert. Though the actress’ professional life could not be any better (she is currently wrapping up a successful London engagement and looking forward to a vacation), her temperament and frequent bouts of backstage depression render her a rather emotional harpy for spouse/manager, Michael Gosselyn (Jeremy Irons).

Michael and Julia have an open marriage – so lax, in fact, Michael deliberately introduces his wife to a scheming social climber, much too young for her, though undeniably handsome, Tom Fennel (Sean Evans) with the probable likelihood Julia will take a sexual interest in him. Keeping Julia distracted, in fact, allows Michael to feel less guilt about his own extramarital affairs. Before long, Tom and Julia become passionate lovers and Julia snaps out of her depression, bouncing back into a new hit show, guaranteed to make Michael a lot of money. But Tom wants too much. Not content to simply accept Julia’s expensive gifts, though she is quite generous in their affair – lavishing her stud with expensive clothes, jewelry and money for travel - Tom is really after some rapid advancement for his own career and wants Julia to offer her understudy’s position to his girlfriend on the side, Evie (Juliet Stevenson). Believing that the acceptance of Tom’s terms will bring them closer together Julia agrees; then quickly regrets her decision. Evie is decidedly not the actress that patrons will pay good money to see. Worse, Tom has grown more distant from Julia since Evie’s appointment in the play. Then, the truth comes out. Tom is scheming with Evie to have Julia knocked from her perch as the undisputed first lady of the footlights. Only, this time depression over the thought of getting old will not be the order of the day. A totally delicious revenge has taken its place.

Being Julia is a one-woman show; basically, a clever drawing room comedy of errors, expanded upon, if not altogether successfully to reveal more of the creak and dry-rot in Somerset Maugham’s original premise. The story clings together, thanks to Bening’s tour de force, masterfully carried off with a wily sense of self-deprecation. The rest of the cast are, alas, no match for her. Jeremy Irons is given precious little to do and does simply that. His Michael ought to be something of a disreputable scamp. After all, it is through his procurement of other men for his wife that he is able to enjoy the fruits of Julia’s renewed commitments to the theater - thereby lining his pockets to carry on other affairs on the side. Yet, Irons' Michael is a foppish milquetoast at best. He lacks the guts and spark of a disreputable cad to truly make us care and despise him for his scheming. Sean Evans is never quite convincing as the lover driven by hidden agendas. Almost immediately, Evans reveals too much what Tom is all about, begging the question, how a woman as uber-savvy as Julia could be so easily deceived? Evans plays Tom as a mostly petulant manipulator. There is no subterfuge to his performance. It isn’t clever – just obvious and obnoxious. The only real friend Julia has is Lord Charles (Bruce Greenwood), a closeted homosexual who wants nothing from her other than friendship, and proves, time and again, he is something of the elixir to rejuvenate Julia’s world-weary spirit. The picture’s finale ramps into a celebratory mode for pure vengeance as Julia exposes her enemies within the context of her latest play - proving once and for all, she is the undisputed grand dame of the stage.

The climax is strained, Julia crucifying Evie in front of a live audience on opening night while pretending that their confrontation is just a part of the stagecraft. Evie, of course, knows better. However, lacking the seasoned finesse of either a woman or a performer, she is powerless to prevent her own public execution on stage as Tom and Michael painful observe it from the wings. In Tom's case, he realizes his deceptions have run their course into a dead end. But for Michael, the moment is fraught with admiration for the woman he continues to call his wife. Nevertheless, we end on Julia, foregoing the resplendent mania of ‘after theater’ parties for a quiet dinner alone, yet hardly lonely, and, in fact, thoroughly satisfied with herself. In these final moments we can appreciate the strange isolationism all truly creative people share - removed from the world, even as they are applauded for their artistry by legions of adoring fans.  Being Julia is thus never easy. But Bening makes it all seem quite effortless and worth the trouble.

Alliance Atlantis DVD presentation is quite acceptable. The image exhibits a refined color palette with rich bold hues, very natural flesh tones and adequately rendered contrast levels. Blacks are solid; though on occasion do tend to be deep gray. Age-related artifacts are a non-issue. But edge enhancement and pixelization crop up now and then and are distracting. Film grain can also appear as digital grit. The audio is 5.1 Dolby Digital and quite sufficient for this primarily dialogue-driven presentation. Extras include a very brief ‘making of’ featurette and theatrical trailer.

FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

1