LOVERS AND MARRIAGES: A Double/Triple Review

I have a Chinese girl friend from grade school and high school. I went to the Senior Prom with her and her fiancee and was a bridesmaid in her wedding. Their fiftieth anniversary is coming up but she doesn’t want me to post any photos or to talk about her, so I’ll do it covertly by reviewing two movies. Just let me say that they’re fiercely intent on being assimilated immigrants at the same time that they embrace everything in their Chinese heritage. Their understanding of American culture is, well, Baptist.

The two movies are “Two Lovers” and “A Good Woman.”

“A Good Woman” probably ought to have kept the original title -- or at least a closer echo -- since it is an admirable remake of “Lady Windermere’s Fan,” the Oscar Wilde stage classic. As it turned out, the Italians (where the movie was filmed) informed them (too late!) that “a good woman” is an Italian euphemism for a prostitute, which is a rather sharp comment on a plot that addresses the differences between marriage for high ideals and romance (enabled by money) and marriage for opportunity (money) and, well, friendship. There are two young married people: the young woman (Scarlet Johanson who was 19 at the time and not quite famous yet) is pursued by a handsome young man who wishes nothing more than an adventure. The young husband seems to have been captured by an older woman who is draining money from his checkbook, which has been her modus operandi over the years. This is in the context of a group of Brit ex-pats scurrying through the Mediterranean pleasure spots in the early Thirties.

Here’s a relevant quote from “Two-Spirit People” (what a useful book!): “. . . Southall’s reference to Banton’s contention that “high moral density is associated with small population groups where everyone knows everyone else so that deviance in role performance by one person affects all the rest.” I like that phrase “high moral density,” which I think refers to consensus rather than idealistic aspirations. The deviant in this case is the innocent and absolutely faithful young bride, who is a pigeon among the cats. But is it? Is she really the “good” woman in question? If you set Oscar Wilde loose in such a circumscribed community, he wields his verbal scalpel tellingly, but not without compassion. This movie reminds some of the similar portraits of the Brit ex-pat community in Kenya. (Has anyone written anything useful about post-colonial theory among ex-pats?)

The setting is Amalfi, impossibly, blissfully gorgeous with villas and ancient churches perched on cliffs overlooking the sea. Italian priests were kept busy denying access when they found out the original story was by Oscar Wilde and one scurvy captain played blackmail by simply sailing off with the yacht that was a set until more money was paid. But the places were so elegantly graceful that practically no set dressing was necessary except tons of silk flowers since they were shooting in the middle of winter. If there were no sound at all, one could just drift in the dream setting, unaware that the actors were freezing to death in their bare, beaded, chiffon gowns. Sometimes their noses are a little pink.

The conclusion is the best possible from the point of view of me, the scriptwriter, the director, the producer and probably the BBC repertory stalwarts. That is, the older woman (Helen Hunt) is found by a man (Tom Wilkinson) with plenty of money and much the same sort of (ahem) experienced past, who is capable of relating in a real way with a practical philosophy. The "sadder but wiser girl is the girl for him." They literally fly off into the sunset, another meltingly paradisical scene.

The other movie, called “Two Lovers,” could not be more different. Written from the life experience of the director/screenwriter who grew up in Brighton Beach, a smaller part of the New York complex, the movie opens with Joaquin Phoenix committing suicide by dropping off a bridge. When he’s rescued, he merely walks home, dripping. He’s just been jilted, is supposed to be on drugs, and is a great worry to his solid, conventional Jewish parents. He’s a pretty good black-and-white photographer who takes grim formal facades of shabby buildings. His parents have found him the perfect wife, who already loves him. But Gwyneth Paltrow lives just across the courtyard in the same apartment building. Uh-oh. She’s always in a state of crisis, appealing to him for help. He never turns her down, though she gives him the slip and hangs onto her older rich lawyer lover who refuses to leave his family.

It’s certainly obvious what he ought to do. It’s also obvious why he keeps responding to Gwyneth. There’s no sparkling dialogue, no gorgeous villas, no fabulous clothes. Phoenix plods along, heart-driven. He’s so earnest and generous, it’s hard to be very angry with him. Even the woman his parents chose remains available and forgiving. All we can do is hope this is going to work out as it should. It does. (Isabella Rossellini is Phoenix’ mother -- how can anyone raised by her go wrong?)

The next movie I saw after these two (I must have been into romances for some reason) was “Evening,” which is all about a wedding and the misadventures during it, as recalled on the deathbed of Vanessa Redgrave. Her daughter is in the film, so is Meryl Streep and her daughter, and so is Eileen Atkins, another fab BBC actress who is the “night nurse” but more like “Glinda the Good Witch” as Redgrave sees her. The plot is again regrets and blunders with the general moral that we do the best we can and everyone’s life is a mixture of happiness and wretchedness. The house is one of those idyllic Newport places perched on a sea cliff but not quite up to Amalfi grandeur. Good try, but there’s a kind of Edward Hopper feel to it. It’s American Hallmark phony, really. Blowing curtains, fireflies, and and Arrow shirt model who is the lynchpin of the story since for some unknown reason everyone is in love with him.

In the end the moral of all three romances is that you can’t hope to have a life into which no rain ever falls, not to say car crashes and even deaths, but you do the best you can and when you look back over a long stretch of years, it will be the good things, the well-loved things that remain in your mind and heart. American Baptist Chinese do this better than anyone else. Confucian Christians have got to be the world’s most reliable people, esp. when it comes to family. They don’t need fancy scenery, but they appreciate it when they see it. And their marriages last.