The Age of InnocenceSome have said that the more privilege that one has, the more expectations are made upon them. The Age of Innocence is a period romance adapted for the screen by Martin Scorsese (who directs) and Jay Cocks (who co-wrote with Scorsese) from the novel of the same name by Edith Wharton. It is set during the "Gilded Age" (the 1870s) in New York City and concerns a young, upper-class lawyer named Newland Archer (Daniel Day-Lewis). Newland is engaged to the young and ebullient May Welland (Winona Ryder) and is happy in his romance...until the appearance of May's cousin, the Countess Ellen Olenska (Michelle Pfeiffer), challenges his conceptions of society and pulls his heart in a different direction.
|
|
The Age of Innocence opens with a sumptuous credits sequence by frequent Scorsese collaborator, Saul Bass (and his wife, Elaine), and is comprised of time-lapse photography depicting blossoming flowers concealed behind elegant lacework. Lace and flowers: these are two visual motifs emblematic of upper-crust decadence in the wake of the Civil War during this rise of opulence and industry referred to as "The Gilded Age". Unvarnished observations are made by Ellen to Newland about the absurdity of American high society in merely copying the grandeur--and all of the societal quirks that accompany it--from England. These range from an army of footmen serving this "nouveau riche" to an unspoken hierarchy not unlike the trappings of old world nobility. Newland superficially rankles at these rules that dictate the social strata of fashionable living in 19th century NYC, but goes along with it all the same. The reason for this is that Newland is conflicted at his core. Despite his comfortable lifestyle, he recognizes that this lavish life is so inexorably bound by its own secret laws that no one can truly express themselves without risk of social alienation. ("Cancelled", to put it in contemporary parlance.) Enter Ellen Olenska, who has left her philandering husband back in Poland; yet Ellen discovers that in the "New World", she is treated as a pariah by all but her closest family. Newland intercedes and argues her case to a wealthy and influential New York family, who in turn throws an exclusive party for her benefit, which subsequently marks her as a favorite of New York society from then on. Outward appearances suggest that Newland does this solely because of his contempt for such callous elitism, but there is never a moment where our thoughts do not suspect that he has an ulterior motive--that he harbors romantic feelings for Ellen. This is not because Newland appears unvirtuous; quite the contrary. Newland represents many great virtues, even those ignored by his contemporaries--not least of which is support for a woman to extricate herself from an unhappy marriage. But the careful, calculating cinematography in The Age of Innocence by the masterful Michael Ballhaus constantly focuses the audience's attention on Ellen's beauty, charm, and wit--just like Newland does. This is not a simple tale of a man seduced, or a wanton seductress; it's not even just a tale of two acquaintances who find that they share more in common than they expected. There is an inherent, magnetic attraction between them from the first moment that they espy one another at the opera, and The Age of Innocence never lets us forget this, even as these two desperately try to do the same, perpetually holding back a tide of emotion and heart swell.
At first, The Age of Innocence might appear front-loaded with an excess of character background, including figures like professional gossip and style guru, Larry Lefferts (Richard E. Grant), and May's unofficial grandmother and--for all intents and purposes--the "queen" of New York society, Mrs. Mingott (Miriam Margolyes). This can intimidate some viewers into thinking that they'll need a Cliffs Notes companion book to follow along, but that's not the case in The Age of Innocence. These details are just to emphasize the highly regimented structure of life to which people like Newland and Ellen are forced to conform. In this, they are two similar souls, lonely amongst many. Both of them feel a touch out of beat with the rest of this society, for whom gossip and status--as Newland puts it--is their pastime because they have "nothing serious to consider". Newland is intelligent, but has a penchant to consider himself superior compared to the rest of society simply because he disagrees with the way things are done. Consider this in his relationship with May, who exhibits all of the qualities of a doting and dutiful fiancée, then wife, yet is wholly a part of this exclusive world. She positively beams when she looks on Newland, and one wonders if at times he strains under her blinding luminescence; he is somewhat quieter and introverted, much like Ellen. May comes from a family deeply entrenched within this labyrinthine world of style and status, even if she doesn't present herself as such. As Newland's "affair of the heart" with Ellen progresses, one would be hard pressed not to think that she must suspect that he isn't as committed to their marriage as he once was. Given that gossip is commonplace in this environment and that Newland hasn't been as cautious as he could be to avoid being seen with Ellen, it's safe to say that although there is little more than a stolen kiss here or there to haunt Newland's conscience, everyone else has nevertheless concluded the worst on his behalf. The title thus becomes a play on words; it becomes evident that May, despite being "innocent", also assumes Newland's unfaithfulness, contemplating acts he never committed. (That doesn't mean that he wouldn't have, though.) An observation is made early on by the narrator (Joanne Woodward) about how essentially everyone speaks in a kind of code, that no one actually says what they mean. Still, the meaning of these message are clear, often appearing like a subtle threat that misbehavior will not be tolerated. Ultimately, Newland is forced to accept that despite how clever he believes himself to be, he has lost at this game, that he cannot stand by his convictions. The tidal waves of creature comforts have dashed him--and his weary heart--against the rocks. Yet similar to Scorsese's earlier movie, After Hours, his return to the comfortable and staid world from which he came represents less of a defeat and more of an acceptance...an almost Zen-like attitude about how the way things were always meant to end for him. Tragedy and respite sometimes go hand in hand, but where does that leave regret?
Recommended for: Fans of a lavish and gorgeous period piece, a romance replete with deep feeling and longing. Coincidentally, The Age of Innocence is largely devoid of any foul language or mature sexual content. Despite this, the film may be too dry for younger audiences, as it relies on people identifying with Newland and Ellen's feelings of regret and conflicted emotions, which are likely to be better appreciated by viewers with more life experience.
At first, The Age of Innocence might appear front-loaded with an excess of character background, including figures like professional gossip and style guru, Larry Lefferts (Richard E. Grant), and May's unofficial grandmother and--for all intents and purposes--the "queen" of New York society, Mrs. Mingott (Miriam Margolyes). This can intimidate some viewers into thinking that they'll need a Cliffs Notes companion book to follow along, but that's not the case in The Age of Innocence. These details are just to emphasize the highly regimented structure of life to which people like Newland and Ellen are forced to conform. In this, they are two similar souls, lonely amongst many. Both of them feel a touch out of beat with the rest of this society, for whom gossip and status--as Newland puts it--is their pastime because they have "nothing serious to consider". Newland is intelligent, but has a penchant to consider himself superior compared to the rest of society simply because he disagrees with the way things are done. Consider this in his relationship with May, who exhibits all of the qualities of a doting and dutiful fiancée, then wife, yet is wholly a part of this exclusive world. She positively beams when she looks on Newland, and one wonders if at times he strains under her blinding luminescence; he is somewhat quieter and introverted, much like Ellen. May comes from a family deeply entrenched within this labyrinthine world of style and status, even if she doesn't present herself as such. As Newland's "affair of the heart" with Ellen progresses, one would be hard pressed not to think that she must suspect that he isn't as committed to their marriage as he once was. Given that gossip is commonplace in this environment and that Newland hasn't been as cautious as he could be to avoid being seen with Ellen, it's safe to say that although there is little more than a stolen kiss here or there to haunt Newland's conscience, everyone else has nevertheless concluded the worst on his behalf. The title thus becomes a play on words; it becomes evident that May, despite being "innocent", also assumes Newland's unfaithfulness, contemplating acts he never committed. (That doesn't mean that he wouldn't have, though.) An observation is made early on by the narrator (Joanne Woodward) about how essentially everyone speaks in a kind of code, that no one actually says what they mean. Still, the meaning of these message are clear, often appearing like a subtle threat that misbehavior will not be tolerated. Ultimately, Newland is forced to accept that despite how clever he believes himself to be, he has lost at this game, that he cannot stand by his convictions. The tidal waves of creature comforts have dashed him--and his weary heart--against the rocks. Yet similar to Scorsese's earlier movie, After Hours, his return to the comfortable and staid world from which he came represents less of a defeat and more of an acceptance...an almost Zen-like attitude about how the way things were always meant to end for him. Tragedy and respite sometimes go hand in hand, but where does that leave regret?
Recommended for: Fans of a lavish and gorgeous period piece, a romance replete with deep feeling and longing. Coincidentally, The Age of Innocence is largely devoid of any foul language or mature sexual content. Despite this, the film may be too dry for younger audiences, as it relies on people identifying with Newland and Ellen's feelings of regret and conflicted emotions, which are likely to be better appreciated by viewers with more life experience.