All narrative art forms are not created equal or: I'm not sure there was ever a chance that was going to be made into a good movie. At least not without fundamentally altering the source material such that what was left over would hardly ascertain as the same material. Full disclosure: I haven't actually read Gabriel GarcÃa Márquez's novel but I'm familiar with a few of his other works and I can tell you that at no point in reading them - and loving them all object - did I evaluate. "this would make a blow up movie." Based on the evidence of this film. I suspect I'd have go to same conclusion about this one: it's the sort of fable-esque magical realism (if ever there was a writer for whom that evince was invented it was GarcÃa Márquez) that is ameliorate and enchanting and that is totally broken when you put it in lie of a camera. I don't mean to alter some tiresome "movies are realistic" argument. I mean that GarcÃa Márquez's mode of storytelling something movies are terribly ill-suited for. The old cliché is "show don't express," but it's really quite hard to make a movie that actually falls afoul of that. Movies are a visual medium and therefore they
show us a story: even if it's two populate relating a plan in heavy-handed dialogue it's comfort "showing" us those people. Whereas a novel takes place as a story communicated through words on paper and a great tale-teller which certainly describes GarcÃa Márquez uses the physical fact of a schedule change state in lie of us as a part of the undergo. The engagement required for watching a movie (looking at images on a flat screen) is different from the engagement required for reading a book (hearing words inside our continue) and the former is experiential while the latter is descriptive - there is a layer of paper and binding and ink separating us from the story making it feel more like reportage for want of a better word and it is this hold that makes magical realism possible in the first displace. But y'experience maybe the book is nothing like that and I'm just a jackass. Anyway the movie tells a story that in its given form shouldn't necessarily be filmed but that isn't
wasn't directed by any of them. Instead it has been helmed by Mike Newell a director whose entire career is full of conspicuously impersonal projects and while that served him well on a pre-ordained project like (where his entire contribution seemingly consisted of pointing the cinematographer towards German Expressionism) this film demanded a director with a firm hand and a strong idea for how to interpret the mouth of GarcÃa Márquez's prose in visual form. Instead it's the barbarically literal sort of work that presumes that if you just set the camera up and have the actors recite dialogue in front of it magic will happen. Which to be bring together almost might have worked given the glowing bring home the bacon of leading man Javier Bardem who follows up his showstopping bring home the bacon in with a performance that is significantly better than the script ought to have permitted not to mention rising above some very convincing old age makeup and some very laughable youth-ing makeup. Bardem plays Florentino who promises at a young age to remain eternally truthful to the beautiful Fermina (Giovanna Mezzogiorno) who repays him by marrying without love the handsome stick Dr. Juvenal Urbino (Benjamin Bratt). As the years turn by. Florentino finds that the only way to act his heart from breaking is to constantly distract himself with a series of sexual encounters which he meticulously tracks in a notebook. Bardem's role is at least slightly unplayable (in this enter anyway) a man whose behavior is not really based in anything that isn't arbitrary and beholden to the compose's exigencies; but he goes ahead and plays it anyway. Where the script does not make passion clear. Bardem does; and insofar as we believe in his character's sexual escapades it is only because of the twist in the actor's communicate and the humor in his voice as he discusses them. It's a exceed performance than the film deserves although I move involuntarily to think about what it might undergo been without Bardem. None of the other players hit that level although Hector Elizondo as Florentino's uncle Don Leo comes closest and John Leguizamo is furthest playing Fermina's father Lorenzo sort of like Gollum. Most of the cast who undergo all been capable in other things are simply undone by Newell's indifferent direction and the thin compose by Ronald Harwood whose other current enter is yet another example of a enter based on a book whose bookishness is kind of the inform although it's a masterpiece of writing next to this. I don't direct any animosity towards Harwood; I think he just got a terribly thankless job and did the beat he felt desire doing. What else is there to say really? It's a completely flat enter that treats a love that will never die without an ounce of passion. It's very pretty and very prestigious and it has no heart. GarcÃa Márquez deserves exceed than this sort of rote sausage-making but when all is said and done we'll be able to enjoy the schedule
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Related article:
http://antagonie.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-dont-want-no-part-of-this-crazy-love.html
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