WOMAN IN GOLD: Blu-ray (Weinstein/BBC/Origin 2015) E-one Home Video
On November 9th
and 10th, 1938, barely nine months after the peaceful Anschluss of
Austria, Adolph Hitler’s Nazis set about to publicly plunder the homes, businesses
and synagogues of Vienna’s Jewish population with impunity befitting their
insidious oligarchy. This hellish tumult was openly tolerated, if not, in fact,
entirely supported by Austria’s local citizenry; a chapter in its national
history incredulously unacknowledged. ‘Kristallnacht’ began a reign of terror
the likes of which the world may never hope to know again. But it also set into
motion a remarkable journey though fear and a triumphant battle staged by one
unlikely survivor, determined to reclaim a unique heritage rightfully belonging
to her. Simon Curtis’ Woman in Gold
(2015) picks up the story of Maria Altmann in 1999; or rather, Adele
Bloch-Bauer, Altmann’s wealthy aunt back in 1925, whose exquisite gold-leaf
portrait, painted by world-renown artist, Gustav Klimt, remained on public
display inside the Belvedere Gallery for decades thereafter; the so-called ‘Mona Lisa’ of Austria.
Heralding from
a sugar cane fortune, the Bloch-Bauers were one of Austria’s most influential
and affluent Jewish families until the war. But by 1937, Ferdinand Bloch-Bauer,
Adele’s husband, could see the writing on the walls – literally – Hitler’s
promise, to humiliate and exile Germany’s undesirables to workhouses and later,
concentration camps, forcing Ferdinand into an impossible situation - to flee;
first, to Prague, then later, Zurich where he would die impoverished in 1945.
Mercifully, Ferdinand’s beloved wife, Adele escaped the holocaust; alas, of her
own tragic fate succumbing to virulent bout of meningitis in 1925. Unwilling to heed his brother’s advice,
Maria’s father, Gustav and mother, Therese remained behind, made to endure the
cruelties yet to follow. Woman in Gold
takes up the aged Maria’s unbelievable saga, seeking restitution from the
Austrian government in 1999; a particularly arduous and lengthy process,
repeatedly stalled by representatives from the Belvedere, who fought Altmann’s
claim every step of the way.
The gallery’s
position was the Klimt paintings had been bequeathed by Adele Bloch-Bauer upon
her death in a request she had made to her husband. There is some truth to
this, insofar as Adele had wished to have her formidable array of artworks put
on public display in the country of her origin. Alas, not even she could have
foreseen the horrors yet to engulf Europe during the Second World War.
Furthermore, in uncovering the history behind the paintings, Maria Altmann
would learn the paintings in question did not, in fact, belong to Adele, but
rather were the legal property of her husband, Ferdinand – who had not parted
with them amicably before his exile. Indeed, the Bloch-Bauer estate became the
scene of an infamous Nazi looting; stripped of its worldly assets, many winding
up inside the homes of high-ranking Nazi officials thereafter. Some of the
Bloch-Bauer’s possessions even came to decorate the walls of the Berchtesgaden;
Hitler’s private retreat in the Alps.
Simon Curtis’
movie does an applicable job of conveying all this backstory succinctly,
toggling between the past – viewed through a sort of Kodachrome-faded series of
flashbacks – and ‘then’ present day,
more vibrantly realized by cinematographer, Ross Emery, as Maria Altmann (Dame
Helen Mirren, affecting as always) trails the matter with the aid of an, at
times, extremely reluctant compatriot; attorney-at-law, Randy Schoenberg (less
effectively played by Ryan Reynolds). The opening credits briefly illustrate
the process by which Gustav Klimt (Moritz Bleibtreu) created Adele’s portrait.
From this auspicious beginning we segue into breathtaking overhead shots of Los
Angeles, circa 1999; Maria performing a rather matter-of-fact eulogy over her
sister, Luise’s casket; “If life is a
race, then she has beaten me to the finish. But if life is a boxing match, then
I am the last one standing.” Afterward, Maria wastes no time in making
inquiries to an old family friend, Barbara Schoenberg (Frances Fisher) about
her son, Randy’s lawyering skills. It seems Randy left a prestigious firm to
strike out on his own; a disastrous venture since left him grappling with
unpaid student loans and financial debt crippling the security of his new
family; wife, Pam (Katie Holmes) and their as yet unborn daughter. Barbara makes Randy promise to stop by
Maria’s after his interview for a new job. The meeting goes particularly well, Randy’s
prospective boss, Sherman (Charles Dance) agreeing to give Randy another shot
at the big time, largely due to his family’s reputation. Randy is, after all, the grandson of the celebrated
composer, Arnold Schoenberg; his father, a greatly valued judge, recently
retired from the bench.
Arriving late
to his appointment with Maria, and emphatically made aware of it, Maria is
nevertheless cordial as she quietly explains her discovery of some fascinating
letters amongst her late sister’s things. It seems Maria would like to pursue
the matter of being ‘reunited’ with a world-famous painting of her beloved Aunt
Adele, presently hanging in Austria’s Belvedere Gallery. “I have to do what I can,” Maria explains to Randy, “…to keep these memories alive. Because
people forget, you see…especially the young.” Alas, Randy is rather
unimpressed, commenting, “That was a half
a century ago” to which Maria replies,
“You think that’s a long time, do you?” His transparent disregard for
Maria’s heritage causes her to quickly lose interest in him. “This was a test,” she explains, “…and we both failed.” Nevertheless,
Randy, who has absolutely no experience in art restitution, sheepishly agrees
to look over the few remaining letters in Maria’s possession. Quickly, he
establishes that the Belvedere’s claim on the paintings as their rightful
property is predicated on the highly suspect Last Will and Testament of Adele
Bloch-Bauer; a Will no one, not even Maria’s sister was permitted to review for
its authenticity.
Randy implores
Sherman to allow him a week’s fact-finding sojourn in Austria to investigate
the matter further. But his interests remain purely mercenary. A victory for
Maria would be a feather in his cap, a means to prove to Sherman his worth as
an attorney and secure the firm a nice fat retainer and/or settlement, as the
portrait is valued in the millions. However, Maria is understandably hostile toward
the notion of returning to her homeland. Thus, we regress into the first of
many flashbacks to establish the various reasons why. Maria (now played by a
winsome, Tatiana Maslany) is briefly glimpsed on her wedding day; her husband,
opera star, Fritz (Max Irons) serenading her with an aria. Amidst this gaiety,
Ferdinand quietly urges Gustav to make plans to leave Austria. But for Gustav,
it is inconceivable the family should live elsewhere. Austria is their home. In
the present, Randy gets Maria on a plane, and further convinces her partake in
a public address to the Austrian arts’ counsel on the issue of restitution. The
hearings are mere formality for the Austrian government, attended by officials
from the Belvedere merely as a courtesy, neither particularly interested in
seeing a half-century old injustice overturned. Maria points out that even the
word ‘restitution’ implies a return
to one’s previous state. And yet, as Maria illustrates, nothing can ever undo
all that has been lost to her for so many long years.
We retreat to
a painful memory; Fritz and Maria witnessing the humiliation of various Jewish
friends and neighbors being forced to paint the word ‘Jew’ on the facades of their
businesses and scrub the pavement on their hands and knees; their homes looted
and ransacked by the Nazis, who break in at will and take whatever they desire.
Maria, Fritz, Theresa and Gustav are placed under house arrest; the Nazis
taking a physical inventory of their familial possessions. Maria suggests to
one of their captors, Heinrich (Tom Schilling) she must go to the local
apothecary and fill a prescription for her ailing father. In reality, Gustav
and Theresa have already said their tearful goodbyes to their only daughter;
Gustav ordering Maria and Fritz to make a harrowing escape through the backroom
catacombs and rooftops. Narrowly, the pair averts disaster and repeated
capture; the couple stealing away with false passports aboard a waiting plane
mere hours before the borders are permanently closed.
Back in the
present, Randy and Maria are befriended by Hubertus Czernin (Daniel Brühl) a young Austrian journalist, openly embarrassed by
Austria’s stalemate on the issue of restitution, but equally ashamed of his own
father’s spurious past as a Nazi sympathizer. Hubertus has a mole contact in
the Belvedere who provides Randy and Maria with backstage access to secret
documents regarding the museum’s acquisition of the Klimt paintings. One of Woman in Gold’s most endearing
qualities is its screenplay by Alexi Kaye Campbell, precisely infused with bits of light
comedy into this otherwise sincere and, at moments, deadly serious story, but
without ever ‘making light’ of the situation itself. “This is just like a James Bond film,” Maria declares as she and
Randy prepare to embark upon their fact-finding mission. But even she cannot
fathom they will unearth an even more devastating truth; that the paintings
were stolen and her private possessions – jewelry, furs, etc. – given away to
the wives and sweethearts of high-ranking Nazi officials; some even adorning
Hitler’s private retreat in the Alps.
Making valiant
and repeated attempts to engage the Belvedere’s committee with their unearthed
facts, Maria and Randy are ignored; then, marginally tolerated by the gallery’s
smug arbitrator, Dreimann (Justus von Dohnányi). Austrian law prevents Maria
from filing charges against the Belvedere; the penal code demanding she first
put up one third of the portrait’s value in order to pursue the case further.
As this sum would amount to several million dollars, an impossible fee, Maria
has no choice but to drop the investigation and return to the United
States. However, all is not lost. For
only a few months later, while casually perusing the racks of his local Barnes
& Noble, Randy happens to discover an art book featuring Adele’s portrait
on its front cover. According a loophole in the law, Randy deduces the Austrian
government has broken a precedent for which the art restitution statute was
first retroactively applied, by ‘selling’ a likeness of the portrait as
seemingly their own public property. Maria can now take the gallery to court in
the United States using the argument the likeness was never theirs to sell in
the first place.
Despite having
hired high-priced attorney, Stan Gould (Rolf Saxon) to get the case against the
gallery dismissed, a preliminary hearing presided over by Judge Florence Cooper
(Elizabeth McGovern) rules in Maria’s favor. A short while later, Maria is
taken to lunch by Ronald Lauder (Ben Miles), the son of famed cosmetician,
Estée
Lauder. But their amicable exchange of ideas and Maria’s willingness to
entertain the idea Ronald’s New York gallery should eventually play host to
Adele’s portrait, once her rights to it have been established, sours when Ronald
suggests Maria drop Randy in favor of his own high-priced mouthpiece who specializes
in art restitution. Siding with Randy instead, the matter of the Republic of
Austria vs Maria Altmann goes all the way to the United States Supreme Court;
Dreimann determined to discredit Randy and Maria, whom he still considers no
more a threat than irksome underlings. However, after some preliminary
questioning, Chief Justice Rehnquist (Jonathan Pryce) upholds the decision to
allow the case to move forward, although without the complicity of the U.S.
government to back it, presumably under the guise as a matter threatening
national diplomacy.
Both Dreimann and
Randy are aware further litigation could take years, possibly even decades to
sort through, allowing for the natural order of things to claim Maria’s life
before she ever sees her beloved aunt’s portrait disentangled from all the red
tape, Dreimann once again asserts the Belvedere’s position: they will never
willingly surrender Woman in Gold without a fight. Maria suggests a compromise.
The paintings may continue to hang in the gallery provided they publicly admit
to having stolen them in the first place and agree to a considerable
restitution. Dreimann glibly refuses to even consider this offer. Maria storms
out of their talks, deeply wounded, and later, orders Randy not to pursue the
case any further. But he refuses to bow under pressure, reminding Maria he has sacrificed everything to chase
after her dream; having quit his job
under duress of being fired, and this with a wife and young baby to support. Frustrated,
though refusing to budge, Maria grants Randy the opportunity to engage a panel
of three arbiters in Vienna on her behalf. But she steadfastly declines to
accompany him back to Austria. In Vienna, Randy and Hubertus are reunited;
Randy nervously preparing to address the committee of arbitrators, when
suddenly he sees Maria materializing from the crowd of onlookers. “The first time I came for myself,” she
whispers to Hubertus, who offers her his chair, “This time I’ve come for him.”
As Randy begins
his oral dissertation, he reiterates some of the fundamental truths about the
case; that it ought to have never gone as far as it has, being a domestic issue
best resolved within Austria’s borders. He also identifies ‘two Austrias’; one stalwartly
opposed even to the concept any restitution should be made to the victims of
Nazism, the other seeking to rectify the injustices committed nearly a half a
century earlier. Finally, Randy points to an incontestable fact: the Klimt paintings
reached the Belvedere Gallery under a cloud of suspicion, their acquisition
both illegal and dishonest. “This is a
moment in which the past is asking something of the present,” Randy
concludes, “Many years ago, just outside
these walls, people dehumanized other people, persecuted them, sent many of
them to their deaths – decimating entire families. And they stole from them –
properties, livelihoods, objects most precious to them. So now I am asking you,
as Austrians, as human beings, to recognize that wrong…not only for Maria
Altmann but for Austria.”
After
adjourning to debate, the committee is moved to agree with Randy’s argument.
They rule the Klimt paintings must be returned to Maria Altmann. Understandably
chagrined, Dreimann rather mockingly implores Maria to reconsider what their
removal from the Belvedere, for so long considered a part of their national
pride, will mean to the people of Austria. In point of fact, he is merely
treading water and concerned only with saving his own face. Maria, however, has
no such compunction, reiterating for Dreimann how the tables have turned in her
favor. She reminds him of his unwillingness to even entertain her more than
generous offer prior to the arbitration committee’s decision. “So now my aunt will make her home in America
as I have!” she concludes. Alas, even Maria can see the shallowness in her ‘victory’.
For nothing can ever bring back the past she once knew, restore her ‘happily ever after’ memories of a
pre-war Austria or reunite her with the family lost in the holocaust. A short
while later, Maria ventures to explore the family home she knew as a girl, long
since converted into a suite of business offices. As she strolls through these
sterile rooms, the foreignness of their present state miraculously gives way to
ancient reminders of the even cadence and lavishness from that bygone era of her
youth. She is reunited with the ghosts of her mother, father, sister and
beloved Aunt Adele; the movie concluding on a semi-inspirational note: at least
a part of the past has been reconciled with Maria’s present and future.
Woman in Gold is an undeniably earnest and occasionally magnificent
bid to hew a minor cinematic masterpiece from a major cultural artifact;
Klimt’s famed painting of Adele Bloch-Bauer. Thematically, at least, we’ve seen
it all before; the nearest predecessor, George Clooney’s meandering and
unimpressive The Monuments Men
(2014). Where Clooney made his mistake was in remaining standoffish about the
personal investments by his troop of wartime art experts in search of stolen
treasures from WWII. Woman in Gold avoids this pitfall,
primarily because it empowers the audience, almost immediately, in its fertile
association with art, not as mere decorous possessions to adorn empty walls,
but as an extension of personal history; sensual, alive and longing to rectify
a grave injustice. Every painting has its own vibrant story to tell, but Woman
in Gold’s is particularly potent. Screenwriter, Alexi Kaye Campbell’s
intelligent and witty repartee between the two main characters who make up –
and take up – the bulk of our narrative, maintains a tenuous balance between
the light, almost airy comedic moments, perfectly situated between the
severities expressed in flashbacks, augmenting rather than deflecting from the
authenticity in these parallel stories.
Woman in Gold could have so easily devolved into heavy-handed tripe
and treacle about one woman’s bittersweet and altruistic triumph over the
acquisitive and conspiring forces set against her. Largely, we are spared such overbearing
melodramatics by Dame Helen Mirren’s incandescent incarnation of this sensibly
cultivated octogenarian. Mirren reigns supremely as Maria Altmann. Gradually,
she builds a performance, from smartly plotting elder stateswoman to stubbornly
resolved gris eminence of an era too far removed from Randy Schoenberg’s own
frame of reference; drawing him into her past regressions with deceptive ease
and coaxing his own reconsiderations of this painful family history with a
visit to the holocaust memorial. I have read several reviews, precipitously criticizing
Woman in Gold for its ‘mother lode of platitudinous sentiment’. By my estimation, such reviewers are both
cynical and forgetful; qualities Maria ascribes rather inauspiciously to the
young. Her point is well taken. For what restitution can be made to a woman
forced to sacrifice her homeland and her family; to whom the ill winds of Nazism
blew a pitiless dust, viewed as mere ancient history by Randy at first, and
meant to shutter, though never shut out these tortuous reminiscences?
For those acquainted
only with these atrocities via research, perusing faded photographs or 16mm
film footage on the History Channel, the war ostensibly ended in 1945. But Woman in Gold reminds us that for some,
the strain of the past persisted as a life-long, terrible and terrific
affliction, unconquerable by any passage of time. The protracted fight between
Maria Altmann and the Belvedere Gallery continues to resonate as something less
than righting an age-old injustice; a flaw perhaps in our own modern
sensibility – unable entirely to embrace, much less perceive with truthful
satisfaction, genuine heroism on display. The point of this exercise is hardly
‘victory achieved’. As Mirren’s Altmann reiterates, sobbing against Randy’s
shoulder, “My mistake was in believing
this would somehow make it all better – it doesn’t.”
Less attractive
to the overall arc of director, Simon Curtis’ story are some of the casting
decisions made, starting with Ryan Reynolds; an actor in whom I have yet been
able to warm. Like Leonardo Di Caprio before him, Reynolds is plagued by a sort
of perpetually stunted, prepubescent ‘boyish’ charm. He cannot escape this
effete quality. It lacks the intrinsic value of overt masculinity and his
scenes as husband and father, opposite a rather perpetually grim Katie Holmes,
like an American character thrust upon the plot of a Victorian novel, lack
believability, and this, despite Reynolds harboring obvious parallels in
deportment and mannerisms that occasionally make him a dead ringer for the real
J. Randol Schoenberg. Still, there is a quaint sort of Lou Costello quality to
his performance, remaining – if not in perfect register – then, at least, in
the same ballpark as Mirren’s Bud Abbott.
Mirren is a
skilled enough actress to be able to play down to Reynold’s level and style of
acting and still not sacrifice the integrity of her own performance. But Woman
in Gold needed a more butch co-star to carry the male lead. At moments,
Reynolds incarnation of Schoenberg seems more emotionally fragile than Maria,
albeit without the necessary warm shoulder to weep salty tears upon. He comes
through for Maria during her penultimate ‘breakdown’ after winning her case, but
again – it never attains the level of perfection that Mirren’s ability to
convey heartfelt and extremely wounded sadness has in spades. Even through a
veil of tears, Mirren is in command of their scenes together; particularly this
one and, more embarrassingly, the moment when Maria cruelly admonishes, then
dismisses Schoenberg for chancing the outcome of their case on arbitration in
Vienna. Reynolds gives us the frustrations of a young man on the brink, but
with an adolescent’s incapability to completely grasp the reasons why he ought
to be genuinely angry. Bottom line: he’s weak, and, at intervals, ill-suited to
sustain the magical spark, even in expertly designed banter that ought to have
buoyed the movie completely. It’s not enough of a personal failure to implode
the picture, but conversely, it does it no favors either. Bottom line: Woman in Gold is a fascinating glimpse
into one woman’s unfaltering quest to make restitution with the ghosts from her
past. That she only partially achieves this purpose is, in fact, the point of
the story.
Produced in
conjunction with BBC Films, Origin Pictures, and, 2nd District
Filmproduktion, distributed in the U.S. by the Weinstein Company, Woman in Gold was shot digitally using
Arri Alexa equipment, yielding plenty of depth and detail with very strong black
levels. The deliberately faded Kodachrome-ish flashbacks are somewhat
disappointing in that they fail to capture the lushness of period and do not
take advantage of Jim Clay’s production design. The predominant color in these
flashbacks is a sort of piggy pinkish red tint; again, deliberately achieved in
Ross Emery’s cinematography. For the sequences taking place in ‘the present’,
Emery adopts a more natural palette, albeit with a slight teal slant. But
herein, flesh tones are accurately realized as realistic, if not terribly
oversaturated. Overall, while there’s nothing wrong with these visuals. On the
flipside, there is nothing terribly impressive about them either.
As this is a
dialogue-driven feature, the quality of the DTS-HD 5.1 track is appropriately
absorbing with momentary bouts in which to exercise the surround channels – as in
the daring escape young Maria and Fritz make through the streets of Vienna to
escape the Nazis. Extras include a feature commentary from Simon Curtis and producer,
David M. Thompson; exceptionally informative with lots of back story. The rest
of the extras are toss-away: The Making of Woman in Gold barely clocking in at 23 ½ min. – dull and
predictable PR stuff. It’s also disappointing not to have the 2007 'Stealing
Klimt' documentary included herein; just a trailer to whet the
appetite, presumably for a feature yet to follow a pending home video release
in North America. At a little over 10
minutes, the Neue Galerie New York Press Conference picks up the story of
the painting after the movie; Maria Altmann having sold it to Ronald Lauder for
a record $135 million in 2006. Finally, there is a barrage of front loaded
trailers to promote other already released or pending releases from The
Weinstein Company, including the Blu-ray of Mr. Holmes. Personally, I am
looking forward to this one. Bottom line: recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
2.5
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