Charles Dance’s début feature is an impressive
achievement. Quality abounds in the stellar cast, the magnificently detailed
production design, and the knowing, sensitive cinematography of Peter Biziou and
Ed Rutherford. But the real star is the music (Joshua Bell’s maturing
brilliance is a pleasure in every bar (cross-references below). Its
power—when presented honestly—washes away anger, intolerance and unrequited
love.
Janet and Ursula Widdington (Maggie Smith and Judi Dench
respectively) share twin beds and a house full of memories in a Cornish seaside
village where they and the richly characterized townsfolk go about their
business and, occasionally, meddle in the affairs of others in a world between
wars.
Following a particularly violent storm, Ursula spies a body
on the beach and the pair scurry down to ascertain whether a morgue or hospital
should house it. Barely breathing and suffering a broken ankle, it's love at
first wave. And, with no customs to clear, the handsome foreigner, Andrea
Marowski (Daniel Brühl, charming at every turn) is hoisted into their spare room
to convalesce and learn English under the oh-so-attentive care of the
love-starved women.
Based on a story by William J. Locke, Dance's screenplay is
a marvel of patient narrative and gentle wit. To foil the near saccharine
adoration of the sisters, he inserts Dorcas (Miriam Margolyes, magnificent in
her range of expression) as the no-nonsense housekeeper who is equally adept at
ordering a dairy herd out of her path or stuffing a chicken like it owed her 3
guineas.
Soon the film resembles My Fair Lady as Ursula
teaches Marowski (a Polish musician, "Just as well he isn't German," muses Janet
with a tone that convincingly foreshadows the fate of her late husband) a new
language by turning his bedroom into a labelled dictionary. But there's really
only one phrase she wants to hear.
Even as the girls begin to argue over their charge ("I saw
him first", decries Ursula), the
sub-plot of a mysterious Russian painter (Natascha McElhone) setting up her
easel in a nearby cottage is launched. She manages to frustrate everyone: the
Angels of Mercy fear the beautiful artist (who speaks fluent German, giving her
a communication advantage with the bilingual violinist); the village doctor
(David Warner) prescribes himself a dose of her charms but can't get her to take
his medicine; Marowski hopes that secretly posing for her, violin in hand, will
lead to her bed but has to settle for a musical elopement to London.
And what music there is: from country reels to the
perennial, variation favourite The Carnival of Venice, Marowski fiddles
while the sisters burn, bringing the entire village—like the Pied Piper with a
Stradivarius—under his spell. The numerous performance sequences make little
attempt to persuade that Marowski is actually playing, but subtle bits, such as
some broken bow hair being stripped away, add a different kind of
verisimilitude.
Then, as he makes a full recovery, Ursula falls victim of
her own fantasies and, risking humiliation and scorn, nearly violates
the maternal love and trust of their talented charge. Smith and Dench play
these truly pathetic scenes beautifully and, as they do throughout, employ quiet
understatement, withering glances and real anguish to lift the drama from good
to great.
From there, the film seems to slip out of its early promise and surrender its plot to the music. But not before a wonderful segment in which the entire village dresses up to listen to a wireless broadcast by the departed virtuoso in the Widdington manor. Dorcas holds the fort while her
employers have tarted up and gone to hear Marowski live. Once the first solo
entry is heard, the reaction-shots speak volumes: the reverent, "simple"
townsfolk and the adoring but resigned caregivers subtly mirror the power and emotion of humankind's most universal language, warming every heart and soul on both sides of the screen.
Dance has given the world more than just a well-executed
film, he's provided those lucky enough to see it a few moments of human
experience that will resonate within for years to come. JWR