November 19, 1997

One of the first things I noticed when I attended The Wings of the Dove is that the audience members were primarily over fifty years old even though the main characters in the film were probably in their twenties. I'm not sure what that says. Oh, I could guess. MTV's fast-paced, editing style and contemporary subjects have tainted a generation of moviegoers. But those are generalization, and generalizations are rarely fair. The few, younger moviegoers who I spoke to about the film had positive, if not rave, responses.

The Wings of the Dove is a slow-paced, sumptuously shot period film about three people whose lives intertwine and unfold in a devious and complex fashion. Adapted from a Henry James novel, its primary themes examine greed, betrayal, and responsibility for one's actions. The story follows Kate, played by Helena Bonham Carter, in a performance that transcends acting. Carter is no longer Carter but Kate, an intensely passionate woman who sabotages her own chances for happiness with her lover, Merton (played by Linus Roache with equal parts fire and subtlety), electing wealth and security over commitment. The scenes between Kate and Merton are erotically electric, ranging from simmering to pot-boiling.

One of the problems I had with the story is that Kate threw her great love away too quickly. This is somewhat reconciled when Kate leaves her Aunt Maud's posh mansion to visit her father. Her father lives amongst whores, gamblers, and drug addicts. Though it's evident that this isn't a good environment for a child, it would have strengthened the story to see Kate suffering the degradation of poverty for a little while. Yes, her father explains that even the great love he bore for Kate's mother couldn't overcome the nihilistic nature of poverty. Yes, her father reveals Aunt Maud is paying him to insure that Kate remains with her rich aunt. Yet in film, seeing is believing. Rather than hear the old man talk about poverty, why not show Kate the child experience dispiriting poverty before deciding to throw the love of her life away? It would have made Kate's character more empathetic. The depiction of Kate's father smoking dope with a whore at his side seemed like a far more intriguing, albeit decadent, world than the staid, sterile world of the very rich in which Kate decides to reside.

It's also not clear why Kate's Aunt Maud is so vindictive. When Kate's friend comments that Kate makes her aunt sound like a witch, Kate replies, "Oh, no. She can't fly - yet." Why does Aunt Maud deny Kate her love? Why can't Kate have it all? The implication is that it would be beneath her newfound station in life (Merton's a newspaper writer not a chimney sweep, for god's sake). Yet Maud's motivation seems deeper though the audience never understands what might be lurking beneath that bitter, cold surface.

The story becomes more complicated when Kate befriends a wealthy young American named Milly. Milly's role is the least dimensional; she's a naive woman whose chief goal in the film seems to be to look fragile and die stoically.

Kate has fallen into a situation which allows her to manipulate all the players. Though at first she doesn't admit her plan to herself or anyone else, it soon becomes apparent that she will finesse a falsely conceived love between Merton and Milly. The goals is for Merton to convince Milly he's in love with her so that she will leave him her considerable fortune when she dies.

Merton is understandably uncomfortable with the deceit. As he confides to Milly, "I fake passion. I fake conviction." Milly, like many people in love, chooses to hear what she wants rather than what is actually being said. As the game becomes more complex, and more ruthless, the film reveals one of its greatest strengths. Through the characters interactions, the story poses the question: what happens to desperate people who commit desperate acts, and at what cost?

With respect to production values of the film, I especially liked the synthesis of filmic elements. The art direction, lighting, and costuming often depicted Kate in hues of blue, an obvious reflection of her character. Other distinctive color themes persisted in the characterizations of Aunt Maud and Lord Mark, who were often shown in rich, creme colors and gilded surroundings, again a mirror of the superficial nature of the characters. The cinematography was suitably lush and romantic for a period piece, and though expected in this genre, appreciated nonetheless.

Returning to my original observations, I wonder if Hollywood is right. Maybe filmed classics (such as the recent Romeo and Juliet) have to be hip as well as violent in order to attract a young audience. Maybe young patrons are searching for characters whose lives more closely resemble their own, or maybe they have a finger on the pulse of something more vital, more honest than what many of the period films have to offer. I might argue that the film offered remarkably honest portrayals of the main characters and insightful truths about the darker side of human nature as well as the insatiable hunger of the human heart.

Mary Johnson is a professor of film at UCF and a mother. She is also a filmmaker working to get a film produced. Other Articles I've Written