Ismail Merchant has died. Isn’t it strange. I don’t even know the man, and I feel a huge sense of personal loss right now.
The Ivory-Merchant movies of Forster’s novels are, of course, famous (and rightly so, in my opinion) – but for me, the most devastating and brilliant movie of theirs (Ivory directing, Merchant producing) was Mr. and Mrs. Bridge, starring Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. The film was so subtly painful that it almost registered with me on a level like a dog-whistle. Invisible to the conscious mind, but cutting through like a knife. You want to see great acting? Acting that is so good it makes me throw up my hands in despair and admiration? Watch Joanne Woodward in that movie. But it’s weird. The movie is so painful (and I can’t even say why) – its observations are so specific, so acute … that it left an imprint behind in my mind, like a bruise on my heart or brain. It’s that good. But that awful. There’s one body-language moment in a crowded auditorium, between Joanne Woodward and her son that is so exquisitely awful – the moments of missed connections, of thwarted gestures – it’s so simple, so damn simple. Devastating. It can’t be described. It’s not a violent scene, or a gory scene – but still – the effect on me was so huge that I felt like covering my eyes. Like, you don’t want to look in on someone else’s pain. You want to give them privacy in their terrible moment of psychological revelation. This all occurs in the movie without one word of dialogue.
I remember the first time I saw this painting by Goya. I was in a Humanities class in high school, and the second I saw it I had this surge of fear: I wished I could UN-see it. I wanted to erase it from my head. But I couldn’t. That night I lay awake in bed, wide-eyed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking and thinking and thinking about the horror of that scene, the sheer awfulness of man’s inhumanity to man. I don’t know – it left a deep mark – something I can’t ever UN-do.
There’s some association here, for me … The second I started writing right now about Mr. and Mrs. Bridge, I started thinking about that painting. Even though one doesn’t really have anything to do with the other. But: The scene in the auditorium was such that I wished IMMEDIATELY that I could block it out. Nothing flashy, nothing self-indulgent: It’s a quiet moment of psychological agony, noticed ONLY by the camera – even though it’s a space crowded with people. A woman’s psychic scream of loneliness … going completely unnoticed.
Weird to say that my favorite film of that famous team would be one I found so devastating that I honestly don’t think I can ever watch it again, and pretty much blocked it out as I was seeing it.
A great career. A great artist. He will be so missed. And God: Howards End!! Such a wonderful movie (and it takes quite a bit for me to say that – it’s one of my favorite books ever written).
God. I’m sad.
Rest in peace, sir.
Sheila,
Probably inappropriate to leave this comment here, but it seems clear that you are a Cary Grant fanatic, so I want to let you know about a show on him tonight and don’t know how else to inform you.
Tonight at 9:00 on my local PBS station on a show called American Masters, “Cary Grant: A Class Apart” (2005) will be featured. These shows are usually national, but I don’t know at what time it will be on in NY. Just wanted to let you know in case you want to check it out on your local PBS station that you now get VIA CABLE!
Take care
Jay:
hahaha “It seems clear that you are a Cary Grant fanatic” Uhm … what exactly was it that gave me away? Oh, you mean the 800 posts on him? I see.
Thank you SO MUCH for letting me know – but I am just getting the message now. I was out seeing Revenge of the Sith on this freezing rainy night – I finally saw it!! And so I missed the Cary Grant special.
I’ll keep my eye open for it again … thanks, Jay.
Hey – they renewed Arrested Development! I’m sure you’ve heard.
Whenever I read Gwyneth Paltrow muttering about how her mum, Blythe Danner, could have been one of the world’s greatest film actresses if she’d only concentrated exclusively on her career, I think of Joanne Woodward who can quietly lay claim to the title – without the conditional caveats. I agree that her performance in Mr and Mrs Bridge lingers – an absolutely flawless thing to see and I’m sure I could often “see” Newman graciously deferring to her (possibly, that’s just me!). Also – it’s a handy film to remember when cusp-of-wrinkly actresses start moaning about the lack of mature women’s roles.
RIP Mr Merchant indeed.
Well, though Jody: those “moaning” actresses have a good reason to bitch. There certainly are not overwhelming amounts of roles being written for anyone over the age of 45. Actresses disappear after they reach a certain age. Some of them re-emerge in their 60s … but it’s that in-between time that nobody seems to give a shite about.
Mrs. Bridge is the kind of role that comes along once in a lifetime ANYway.
I think Joanne Woodward is just absolutely AMAZING. I have always loved her – and also admired her.
Blythe Danner is good, too – but I have a feeling that she’s more of a stage actress. People who have seen her do Chekhov on stage talk about in a way that sounds almost life-changing … but not too much of her film-work (for me, anyway) reaches that level.
Merchant-Ivory weren’t just a team, they were really more of an era. Making bad quiet period movies would be the easiest thing in the world to do. It’s greatly to their credit that so many Merchant-Ivory productions were so good, period trappings left completely aside. Very, very sad.
On the other hand, Arrested Development getting renewed is most definitely cause for celebration!
Red,
I’m very familiar indeed with the invisibility of actresses of a certain age argument – when it’s far too late for Pretty Woman and much too early for Driving Miss Daisy. However, the nagging little imp within me insists that Hollywood’s prejudices would be better exploded by mature women seizing grotty, underwritten roles and making them their own rather than passively waiting for the once-in-a-lifetime Mrs Bridge part. This is scolding advice, but to take a slightly odd example, Jim Carrey should have “passed” on Ace Ventura, but turned dross into a career maker. Talent can trump all sorts of limitations. Anything to stop the moaning, frankly!
Roles like Mrs. Bridge are rare ANYway. It’s rare to find well-written roles for women ANYway. And for men too, for that matter. Good writing is rare. And so women go out and develop their own projects all the time … so that they can compete, and make the kinds of movies they want to make. Some of these fail, some of these succeed – of course. No guarantees.
I don’t see them as passively waiting at all. It’s just that it’s hard to find well-written scripts ANYwhere, and so when one does come along, the competition is fierce.
I guess you hear it as moaning, I hear it as a legitimate complaint.
Red,
Moaning and legitimately complaining are, of course, often the same thing. Point taken. I can, however, envisage a lesser actress flattening the Mrs. Bridge part, reducing it to a timidly querulous portrait of a spoilt matron – or far, far worse (Barbra Streisand, anyone?). That is to say, Woodward guaranteed it a great role. There is no such thing as a once-in-a-lifetime-part unless the actor makes it so. In the end I believe there is a weird meritocracy in Hollywood and that one tough-as-nails role model will always be worth a thousand rants from yesterday’s babes.