
March 11, 1998
One of the things I love most about certain movies is the way they
make you do some work. They don't compromise or make things easy or wait
for you, the viewer, to reach their wavelength. The films of Atom Egoyan
(The Sweet Hereafter, in my opinion, was 1997's best film), for example, do
this wonderfully, often starting off in obscure places and slowly bringing
everything together into an emotional core. These films remind me of
reading a great novel: viewers settle into them and let
things develop until, ultimately, they realize that they are hooked
and that they have been watching something great.
Oscar and Lucinda, a glorious examination of two people who fall in
love because of their shared addiction to gambling, is just such a movie.
The film, set in the late 1800's, begins with both Oscar and Lucinda
as children. We see how their personalities develop, how Oscar's neurotic
nature and love of God (due to a strict religious upbringing) evolves into
manhood, and how Lucinda's strong-willed nature stems from her parents
death and her love of glass.
We see how the two characters become addicted to gambling, how Oscar learns and
becomes amazed by it at college and sees it as a religious act (his
justification for gambling: 'Christians are by nature gamblers. We bet
that there is a God, do we not''), and how Lucinda sees gambling as the
only thing that allows her to feel free from the confines of the society.
When they meet - in a glorious scene on a boat which leads them, in a
matter of minutes, on an emotional spectrum beginning with shame and ending
in absolution - they bond over a game of cards. This image of the
two of them gambling fuels their relationship and leads them towards
love.
Oscar and Lucinda's love grows gradually, based in the subtle innuendo of
wagers (much like the love based in housework innuendo in The Remains of
the Day). Eventually, these wagers lead Oscar on a harrowing journey
(on a bet, of course) across Australia to build a church of glass in a
rural parish, all in the name and for the love of Lucinda. One of the
joys of this movie comes in its wonderful pacing. It never rushes things
along and allows the viewer to come to his or her own conclusions. The
screenplay by Laura Jones (adapted from the award-winning novel by Peter
Carey) never dumbs itself down or gives in to melodrama. Gillian Armstrong's
(1994's fantastic Little Women) direction is warm, confident, and classy.
The photography is often breathtaking, especially the image of the glass
church riding on a barge down a river towards its final destination.
This film, like a great novel, you can watch again and again,
always noticing new subtleties.
But above all, I think the acting steals the show here. Cate
Blanchett gives a great energy to Lucinda, a woman who wants a life without
the confines of social properness. And Ralph Fiennes, especially, just
amazed me. He gives a rich complexity and a great vibrancy to Oscar,
making him an truly memorable character.
This is a fantastic movie.

Eyal Goldshmid
I am a fiction writer supporting myself as a government clerk for the US
army. Until I can fully live off writing, I plan to milk all the luxury I
can from the American taxpayer.
Other Articles I've Written
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