Bringing Dorian Gray to Film
Having finally gotten to see the movie I was most anticipating for 2009, the most recent film version of my favorite novel, and because I’ll take any opportunity I can get to discuss Dorian Gray in any way, shape, or form, I thought I’d take some blog space to look at the two most well-known attempts to turn Oscar Wilde’s only novel into a cinematic experience. Obviously, spoilers abound, both for the novel and the specific films.
I’ll be looking at what I consider key elements in telling of the story of Dorian Gray, which include: Sybil’s Fall, Dorian’s Arc, Hedonism, The Portrait, Lord Henry as the Devil, and the Opportunity for Salvation.
THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY (1945)
Writer/Director: Albert Lewin
Dorian: Hurd Hatfield
Lord Henry: George Sanders
Basil: Lowell Gilmore
Sybil: Angela Lansbury
3rd Act Love Interest: Donna Reed (as Gladys Hallward)
Sybil’s Fall: Taken by her beauty and her voice (in this version, Sybil is a chanteuse rather than a Shakespearean actress), Dorian is enthralled by this first love experience. He’s ready to commit to the fantasy and to Sybil, until Lord Henry suggests that he test her chastity. Dorian agrees, and Sybil, albeit reluctantly, fails that test. By giving herself to Dorian, she proves her unworthiness to him. He drops her; she commits suicide. While different and a bit more crude (but perhaps necessarily so for a cinematic version), this cut-and-dry destruction of the relationship is effective as Dorian’s first foray into manipulating those around him.
Dorian’s Arc: My issue with this version of Dorian is that we never really get to see any reaction from him. He never seems all that fazed by anything. He’s always wearing a mask, and he never shows his cards to anyone — not even the audience. In the novel, Dorian is extremely emotional and impetuous. When Lord Henry first needles him about the fact that he will age and his painting will not, Dorian petulantly throws himself onto the divan and has himself a good cry. We never get to see this sort of emotion from Hurt Hatfield’s Dorian. Whether by actor’s interpretation, writing or direction, he appears bored most of the film. As a reader, Dorian’s journey was of foremost interest to me. In this film version, we don’t get to go on that journey with Dorian; we only get to witness the events as they happen to him.
Hedonism: One aspect of the novel that is particular hard to translate to cinema is Dorian’s hedonistic lifestyle. The 1945 version takes the approach of the novel: it doesn’t show much at all, leaving the worst of Dorian’s sins to our imagination. In the novel, this is very effective. It’s less so in the film. However, considering the social climate at the time this film was made, the approach was appropriate. It pushed no boundaries on screen, but perhaps it did it the minds of the audience.
The Portrait: The only thing shot in technicolor in 1945’s otherwise black & white version, the portrait is certainly striking if a bit cartoonish.
Original
Defiled
Lord Henry as the Devil: In the 1945 version, Lord Henry gets the quips of the novel without as much of the bite. He’s not quite the master manipulator of either the novel or the 2009 version. For his role in Sybil’s fall, he simply tells Dorian what to do. He remains blissfully unaware of most of Dorian’s atrocities. He gives Dorian a philosophy, but it’s Dorian who runs with it full tilt.
The Opportunity for Salvation: Here we find Dorian also having grown bored with life, though his demeanor is not significantly changed from his youth. When he finds the opportunity for love with Basil Hallward’s niece, Gladys, he decides he must destroy the painting once and for all, so as not to fall back into temptation. Unfortunately, in doing so, he destroys himself. He dies as the man in the picture. The picture returns to its state of eternal, youthful beauty. Because we never saw the depths of Dorian’s despair, it was hard to feel the tragedy in his end. It felt neither earned or unfair; it was simply another event in the strange tale of Dorian’s life.
DORIAN GRAY (2009)
Writer: Toby Finlay
Director: Oliver Parker
Dorian: Ben Barnes
Lord Henry: Colin Firth
Basil: Ben Chaplin
Sybil: Rachel Hurd-Wood
3rd Act Love Interest: Rebecca Hall (as Emily Wotton)
Sybil’s Fall: In this version, Sybil once again gives herself to Dorian, though it’s worth noting she doesn’t take much convincing. (Who could blame her?) It’s not this that leads to Dorian’s shunning of her. Instead, it requires a bit more finagling on the part of Lord Henry, who takes Dorian to an opium den where he experiences both the pleasures of opium and the ladies selling it — an experience which also causes him to miss Sybil’s play. After the performance, when Sybil is already suspicious of Dorian’s whereabouts, Lord Henry pushes another thorn into Dorian’s side by asking Sybil when they plan to start a family. Her answer of “soon” causes a bit of hemming and hawing from Dorian. Lord Henry takes his leave (to the balcony to watch the fallout he’s masterminded). Dorian is extremely cold to Sybil, who begs him to make her his wife rather than one of his “whores.” At this point, Dorian walks away, lured by a life of new and unlimited experience rather than one of constancy.
If Sybil had been written as she was in the novel, Rachel Hurd-Wood would have been perfect casting. However, in the 2009 version, they make her much less of a wilting flower. It was never clear whether she was truly in awe of Dorian, as she was in the novel, or whether she simply wanted to make a good catch, so to speak. In some ways, they make her character much stronger, such as when she yells at Dorian to make her his wife instead of one of his whores. Because of this, we never see her crumble, never see her so fully crushed as we would need to to believe she would throw herself off a bridge.
Dorian’s Arc: One of the things I liked best about the 2009 version is that we followed Dorian’s journey much more closely. Ben Barnes as Dorian was as emotional as I’d hoped he’d be. We got to see him be frustrated with Lord Henry one moment and charmed by him the next. In one of his last scenes with Basil, we see him flip the switch from annoyed and cruel to the picture of innocence in one take. In that scene especially, we understand how hard it is for people to reconcile the rumors of Dorian’s lascivious lifestyle with that of his appearance. In contrast with Hatfield’s Dorian, Barnes’ Dorian runs the emotional gamut. He is constantly searching for more, both horrified by his actions but even more impressed by his own achievements. Only when he returns after a 25-year absence do we see that he has become bored with a life of hedonism. As he puts it, “pleasure is very different from happiness.”
Hedonism: The 2009 version takes the opposite approach of the 1945 version. It attempts to showcase Dorian’s hedonism: from an opium den threesome to engaging in a little “double or nothing” bet at a debutante ball to bisexual orgies and finally forays into sadomasochistic sex. The problem with such an approach, of course, is that this sort of behavior, visually sanitized for a UK rating of 15, is not quite as shocking as it perhaps should be. That being said, what was more effective than the actual events themselves was seeing their effects on Dorian. Seeing his reactions go from shocked and uncomfortable to manipulative and obsessed with consumption was much harder to watch than the shock-value sex scenes themselves. The occasional glimpse of clarity for Dorian (the news of Sybil’s death, the realization that he’s killed Basil, the moment of Jim Vane’s demise) are truly heartbreaking. It’s an emotional ride that isn’t present in the 1945 version.
The Portrait: Perhaps the aspect that has received the most criticism in the 2009 version is the heavily CGI portrait. This painting not only decays and devolves, but it also groans, moves, and is infested with maggots. In essence, it is supposed to be a living, breathing manifestation of Dorian’s soul: his unfortunate, trapped doppelganger. When Dorian attempts to kill it, it tries to escape from the confines of the canvas. It’s a good thought, but it’s not really all that effective. But again, with a modern audience, would a stationary painting really have provided the shock and awe required? There’s no denying that the CGI goes over the top, but the effort to visualize the incident is impressive in its gusto if not in its success.
Original
Defiled
Lord Henry as the Devil: Lord Henry is a much more active figure in the 2009 version. He not only provides the philosophy, but he pushes Dorian to explore it. He introduces him to gin, cigarettes, opium and sex. He opens Dorian’s eyes to the world of pleasure and encourages him to explore it to the fullest: “People die of common sense, Dorian, one lost moment at a time. Life is a moment; there is no hereafter. So make it burn, always, with the hardest flame.” At times he is explicit in his guidance, as when he places the “double or nothing” bet at the debutante ball. Other times, he is more serpentine, as in his role in the demise of Dorian & Sybil’s engagement. Dorian is everything he wishes he could be, and he enjoys pushing him. Only when he has something of his own to lose — his daughter, Emily — does he chastise Dorian for his actions. Even so, he never truly admits to his role in Dorian’s demise. Dorian, in some ways, finds his redemption. Lord Henry never does.
The Opportunity for Salvation: After having exhausted even his own depths for hedonism, Dorian returns to London, bored with life, cut off from the world he used to know both by rumor and by appearance. The society he knows has aged; internally, he has aged perhaps more than anyone, but none of that is visible. He has a notion that he might try to be good at this point — after all, what’s left? — but even that is an effort void of any joy. He is finally beginning to see the consequences of his actions, to truly feel them, and it’s not a pleasant experience. At a charity piano performance that hearkens back to his day as a true innocent, he is interrupted by the shouts of a man angry that his daughter has attended. He bellows to the crowd how absurd it is that such a cruel and morally decrepit man has received “a babe’s face.”
Later, Dorian finds himself accosted by Jim Vane, his mind ravaged by the loss of his sister 26 years ago. He escapes him once by way of his youthful looks and finally by a cruel twist of fate resulting in Jim’s death. Though he avoids bodily injury, the incident shakes him, perhaps for the first time since Sybil’s death. In a moment of panic, distraught, searching for some bit of salvation, he finds himself on the doorstep of his old friend, Lord Henry. Emily answers, and she comforts him, having already begun to fall for his tortured soul in the weeks since his return. She is the first source of comfort he’s had in years, and he seems to begin to understand the concept of love once again.
Despite Lord Henry’s understandable objections, the pair make plans to leave London so Dorian can start over. Lord Henry throws a party as a diversion so he can sneak into Dorian’s attic where the painting resides. This leads to a showdown between Lord Henry and Dorian. Emily arrives to find Dorian locked in the fiery attic with his painting. He has the key, and she begs him for it to unlock the door. Knowing what she will see, and knowing that he has the opportunity to spare her, he refuses. He professes his love and then sends her away, finally understanding what it is to put someone’s needs above his own. He turns to face his portrait, and thus his own demise. The last scene of the film shows the portrait, having survived the fire, returned to its innocent, youthful state, being locked in Lord Henry’s attic.
For me, 2009’s DORIAN GRAY has surpassed 1945’s THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY as the pre-eminent film version of Wilde’s novel. While the 1945 take is perhaps more faithful to the events of the novel, the 2009 version is a far more effective take on the heart of the novel. In the places where the 2009 version fails, it does so because it attempts to do more. I have a soft spot for films that are earnest in their endeavors, even when they’re not entirely successful. 2009’s DORIAN GRAY falls into that category.
There Will Be Blood: A Review
I kept waiting to be impressed by Paul Thomas Anderson’s There Will Be Blood, to have some golden token of wisdom implanted in my brain. I wanted to be blown away by Daniel Day-Lewis’ performance as Daniel Plainview. Even more simply, I wanted to feel something—anything, really—other than confusion. Unfortunately, it never happened.
I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me why the story is so captivating, but I have yet to read a positive review that does anything more than throw out perfunctory adjectives like “epic,” “grandiose” or “breathtaking” without really saying anything. I wanted to “get” this film. I wanted to connect. But I just can’t make it happen, no matter how many times I tell myself that I should have been blown away by this film.
The movie opened promisingly. Perhaps my favorite image of the entire film is of Plainview on a train with his newly adopted son. It’s nearly the only chance in the movie to connect with Plainview’s character. For the rest of the film, I was left in the dark as to what motivated Plainview. Sure, greed is the easy answer. The biggest question of the film for me was why his hatred for Eli Sunday (played well by Paul Dano, but more on that in a minute) was so soul-consuming. Frankly, Eli was so similar to Plainview that I would have expected some sort of kinship between them. I think Eli felt that for Plainview, but it was certainly not reciprocated.
I appreciate Mr. Day-Lewis’ immersion into the role. He was certainly unrecognizable, and his mannerisms and voice were completely appropriate and maybe even bordering on iconic. But I couldn’t connect with the character. I was pleased to see at least one other critic out there agreed with me on that point. And that’s why, out of the three 2008 Oscar nominees for Best Actor I’ve seen, I’d put him in third place behind Johnny Depp and Viggo Mortensen.
On the other hand, I was quite captivated by Paul Dano’s performance as both Eli and Paul Sunday. I’m calling it here and now: Paul Dano is the next Edward Norton. If I could have followed Eli throughout the 2-hour and 38-minute run time, I would have felt my time was better spent. I understood what was driving Eli. And while I didn’t agree with his tactics or even his motivation, I still connected with him. And to me, that’s what acting is about. An actor is a connection between an audience and a story. And Day-Lewis, whether due to the script, direction, acting or otherwise, failed to deliver.
Eastern Promises: A Review
Until this afternoon, the last film I’d seen starring Viggo Mortensen was Return of the King. In fact, I’d only ever seen Mr. Mortensen as Aragorn. Now, I will also remember him as Nikolai.
Eastern Promises didn’t strike me as my type of film when it came out. But I’d read enough positive reviews to be intrigued. The Oscar nod to Viggo for Best Actor was the final straw, so I bit the bullet and picked it up at Blockbuster.
Films in this genre normally seem a bit over my head, if I’m being honest, but I was impressed by the clarity of the story. Credit goes to both writer Steven Knight and director David Cronenberg for accomplishing that feat. After all, weaving a story about the inner workings of the Russian mob in London in a way that the average moviegoer can understand is quite an undertaking, and the team succeeded with flying colors.
The story centers a Russian mob family involved in various nefarious deeds, the most central to the story being the rape of a 14-year-old Russian prostitute, who subsequently gives birth to a daughter. A British midwife (Naomi Watts) of Russian descent is present to deliver the baby, but when the mother dies, she embarks on a quest to find the mother’s family. The mother’s diary leads her to the Russian mob family, and Nikolai, who is basically like a servant to the mob boss’ son, Kirill (Vincent Cassel), is tasked with taking care of the problem.
Ms. Watts is believable in her role, but the character doesn’t require much of a stretch for her. Armin Mueller-Stahl, who plays the Russian mob boss, is both convincingly quaint and ruthless. In a role where it would have been easy to channel Brando’s Godfather or other variations on that theme, Mr. Mueller-Stahl instead puts his own spin on what it means to be the head of a family crime organization. Whether due to the script, direction or acting, the character of Kirill seemed a little uneven to me. The subtext of the character’s psyche wasn’t evident until much later in the film than would have been preferable, but by the last third of the film, things are a bit clearer.
The real stand-out here is obviously Mr. Mortensen, hence the Oscar nod. At no point did I feel like I was looking at Aragorn or even at Viggo. He flawlessly channeled the Russian stoicism you would expect from a hired thug, and yet, even from his first scene, it was obvious there was more going on for this character than met the eye.
And, for those of you who are curious about the steam room scene: Yes, you get to see Mr. Mortensen naked (yes, completely, though not on showcase, if you get my drift), and No, there is nothing remotely erotic about the scene. It is violent, raw and cringe-inducing.
All in all, this is a very good effort from all parties involved, and it succeeds on most levels. It’s a good way to venture into the organized crime film genre for those not normally interested in such movies. And as an added bonus for LOTR geeks: if you watch the extra feature about the tattoos, you can spot Mr. Mortensen’s Elvish “Nine” tattoo on his left shoulder. 
Sweeney Todd: A Review
My sister and I caught Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street last night for the third time. I don’t usually see movies more than once in the theatres, but I was happy to make an exception for such a remarkable film.
Having never seen the stage version and having not been familiar with the music, my excitement for the movie came from the always-interesting collaboration between Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. Throw in the promise of getting to hear Johnny Depp sing? I was hooked the moment I heard about it.
There are two things to keep in mind if you plan on seeing this film: (1) there will be music (and lots of it), and (2) there will be blood (and lots of it). A lot of people with whom I’ve spoken were surprised at one or both of those aspects. So there you have it. You’ve been warned.
That being said, the blood is more of the Kill-Bill variety than of the torture porn variety. Yes, you see throats being slit, and you see blood spurting, but it’s so thick, gooey, and vibrantly red compared to the rest of the color palette that it’s almost comical. There are some extremely disturbing images in this film, though, so don’t think that it’s in any way, shape or form appropriate for kids. Stories don’t get much darker than this, and not even all adolescents can handle it, so keep that in mind when deciding whom to bring with you.
After my first viewing, I wished they had played up some of the more comic elements of the film. But Sweeney Todd seems to be a film that only gets better upon multiple viewings; case in point, I found myself chuckling at much more regular intervals throughout the film last night. The humor is very subtle in a lot of places, but it’s more evident as you get to know the story and the characters better.
My biggest (and perhaps only) criticism of the film is that I wanted to know what became of Johanna and Anthony. While the film isn’t about them, they were really the only source of purity and innocence in the film, and I wanted resolution for them as well as for myself. One review of the film I read a while back said that it seemed like Tim Burton didn’t really know what to do with them, so he simply omitted most of their story. That’s a fairly accurate analysis.
As for the acting, I thought Helena Bonham Carter was marvelous as Mrs. Lovett. I’m not sure why she wasn’t nominated for an Oscar for her performance, though with the snubs for Best Picture and Best Director as well, I’m thinking perhaps the Academy has a vendetta against Mr. Burton. Kudos must also go to 14-year-old Ed Sanders, who plays Toby, possibly the most tragic character in a film overflowing with them. His voice and acting range are both very impressive, especially among the heavyweights that are Ms. Carter and Mr. Depp.
Speaking of whom, Mr. Depp’s performance in this film is well-deserving of the Best Actor nod from the Academy. The range of emotion he shows in this role, often with just his eyes, is phenomenal. It’s a nuanced performance, and you have to watch carefully to see how his character progresses from cynical to vengeful to being driven mad with rage. The way he uses his voice in the film literally gave me chills on numerous occasions. I can’t count the number of times I’ve listened to “Epiphany,” but every time I hear him growl, “I want you bleeders,” I simultaneously cower and squeal with glee. I’m not sure there’s another actor out there who could have pulled off making a murderous barber like Sweeney Todd not only sympathetic and tragic but also magnetic.
I won’t be seeing Sweeney Todd a fourth time in theatres, but I am eagerly anticipating adding the DVD to my collection. In my opinion, this is the best of Tim Burton’s work. If you admire his style, make sure you catch it before it’s out of theatres.
Cloverfield: A Review
I was among the millions of moviegoers who helped Cloverfield to the biggest January opening ever last weekend. That being said, if I had it to do over again, I’m not sure I would have been there.
I spent the second half of the film’s 84-minute running time standing at the side of the theatre to avoid regurgitating my popcorn onto the people in front of me. While the handheld filming style makes for a very unique movie-going experience, for those of us with even the slightest susceptibility to motion sickness, it’s a gimmick we could do without.
Unfortunately, the story (and I’m using that term very loosely) would have failed miserably if it had been filmed traditionally. I say this simply because there really isn’t a story. After I’d had time to digest what I’d seen, I realized that the film really shows like a feature-length trailer for a traditional disaster movie. Spoilers ahead, so if you don’t want to know, stop reading now.
At the end of the film, we know nothing more than we did at the beginning. The monster is apparently impervious to any means of warfare the military can unleash. We don’t know its origin or its purpose. We just know it’s huge, it’s spawning little monsters that make you explode, and it’s apparently unstoppable. The characters in which we’d invested ourselves die. The writers were kind enough to throw us a crumb of resolution through the proclamations of affection from the star-crossed lovers, but it’s far from satisfying as only minutes later, they’re gone.
I’m not one to believe that all stories have to have a happy ending, but I want to leave the theatre feeling like something was at least accomplished. Perhaps if the story had been told from the monster’s point of view, I would have had a more gratifying experience.
As for the actual monster, I will admit it was pretty amazing. It’s unlike anything I personally have seen on film before. However, a friend to whom I was attempting to describe the monster pointed out that it sounded like Sin (of Final Fantasy X fame, for those not in the know), and I have to say she was pretty much spot on. While Sin, as I remember it anyway, is slightly more amorphous than the Cloverfield monster, they could certainly be cousins. (That friend, by the way, demanded to be named when I told her I was mentioning her analysis. So, Brittany Froeschle, here you go.)
So that’s my take on it, folks. Interesting (if nauseating) experiment in film-making, but ultimately unsatisfying due to the lack of a story arc.
